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ELIZABETH  AND  JAMES  ABAJIAN 
COLLECTION  OF  AFRO- AMERICANA 


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"THE)  BROTHERHOOD   OF  MAN." 

REV.  N.  B.  WOOD  (White),  Vindicator  of  the  Colored  Race  and  Author  of 

"The  White  Side  ot  a  Black  Subject,'*  and  his  friend, 

REV.  HARRY  KNIGHT  (Colored). 


1.  T.  THOMAS  FORTUNE,  Journalist.  2.   BOOKER  T.  WASHINGTON,  Educator. 

3.  Hox.  FREDERICK  DOUGLASS,  Statesman. 

4.  I.  GARLAND  PENN,  Author,  Orator;  5.  Miss  IDA  B.  WELLS, 

Chief  Commissioner,  Atlanta  Exposition.  L,ecturers  Defender  of  the  Race. 


THE  COLLEGE  OF  LIFE 


OR 

Practical  Self-Educator 

A  MANUAL  OF  SELF-IMPROVEMENT  FOR 
THE  COLORED  RACE 

FORMING  AN 

Educational    Emancipator  and   a 
Guide  to  Success 

GIVING    EXAMPLES     AND    ACHIEVEMENTS     OF    SUCCESSFUL    MEN 

AND    WOMEN    OF    THE    RACE    AS    AN    INCENTIVE    AND 

INSPIRATION    TO    THE    RISING    GENERATION 

INCLUDING 

AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED 

THE   WHOLE 

Embracing   Business,   Social,   Domestic,   Historical 
and   Religious   Education 

BY 

Henry    Davenport    Northrop,   D.  D., 
Hon.  Joseph  R.  Gay, 

AND 

Prof.   I.  Garland   Penn 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1896,  by 

HORACE    C.    FRY, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington.  D.  C. 


DEDICATION 


TO  the  Great  African  Race,  numbering  MANY  MILLIONS  in  the  United 
States  of  America,  from  whose  hands  the  shackles  of  slavery  have 
fallen  within    the   present   generation,  and  whose  progress  in  that 
short  period  has  astonished  the  world,  and  challenged  its  admiration  :- 

And  to  the  MILLIONS  of  souls  of  the  same  race  in  the  "Dark 
Continent"  to  whom  those  of  America  will  carry  the  light  of  Christianity 
to  disenthrall  them  from  the  bonds  of  savagery  and  superstition . 

And  to  yet  other  millions  now  groaning  under  the  yoke  of  "slavery 

in  semi-civilized  countries  and  in  the  islands  of  the  sea — to  all  the  sons 

and    daughters    of  Ham  wherever  they  are  found  and   whatever  their 
condition— 

We  send  this  Volume  with  our  Greeting 

Happy  indeed  should  be  the  African  Race  in  this  closing  decade 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  From  the  long  dreary  night  of  past  ages  of 
barbarism  and  slavery  the  darkness  is  passing  away — the  morning  light 
has  broken  and  the  sun  of  liberty  and  enlightenment  is  rising  gloriously 
in  the  heavens. 

To  these  People,  among  whom  the  spirit  of  liberty  has  so  recently 
been  born  and  over  whom  the  star  of  hope  is  smiling; 

To  that  Great  Nation,  which  we  believe,  shall  rise  like  a  triumphant 
Phenix  from  the  ashes  which  smoulder  over  the  superstitions,  the  pel  - 
secutions  and  the  barbaric  ruins  of  ages  past,— 

This  Volume  is  hopefully 

DEDICATED 

BY  THE  AUTHORS 


TO  THE   READER. 


In  preparing  this  volume  for  the  Eight  Millions  of  Afro-Americans  in  this  country 
certain  well-defined  objects  were  in  view,  as  follows: 

To  advise,  encourage  and  educate  the  thousands  of  young  people  of  the  race  and  to 
inspire  them  with  a  desire  to  better  their  condition  in  life  by  Self-Improvement ; 

To  afford  the  valuable  information  needed  by  the  large  class  of  men  and  women  who 
are  engaged  in  the  responsible  duties  of  active  life,  and  to  place  within  the  reach  of  parents 
a  valuable  guide  for  the  successful  training  of  their  children,  and  a  Family  Educator  for 
the  Home. 

With  the  above  purpose  in  view  portraits  of  many  successful  men  and  women  of  their 
own  race,  with  sketches  of  their  achievements  in  life,  are  given  as  examples  of  what  may 
be  accomplished  through  education,  patience,  perseverance  and  integrity  of  character. 
Many  engravings  illustrating  Afro-American  Progress  are  introduced  as  object  lessons  of 
the  great  advancement  of  their  own  people,  impressing  them  with  the  fact  that  they  must 
educate  and  elevate  themselves  if  they  would  attain  success  in  life. 

This  volume  is  intended  as  a  Self-Educator  and  is  in  no  sense  a  history  or  book  of 
biography  ;  therefore  it  cannot  be  expected  to  include  the  portraits  or  mention  all  prominent 
men  of  the  race,  nor  describe  all  historical  events.  Sufficient  portraits  and  sketches  of 
successful  Afro-American  men  and  women  are  given  as  a  GUIDE  TO  SUCCESS,  and  illustra 
tions  of  places,  objects  and  events  are  given  for  the  purpose  of  inspiring  ambition  and  as  an 
incentive  for  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  race. 

Some  subjects  concerning  the  race,  but  not  concerning  Afro-American  Progress,  have 
been  purposely  omitted,  as  it  is  believed  these  subjects  are  not  in  accord  with  the  purpose  of 
the  book.  To  the  future  the  race  must  look  forward.  Let  each  individual  prepare  for  it 
by  Self-Education.  Within  this  volume  will  be  found  "A  College  of  Life,"  embracing  the 
following  departments  : 

Thirty  Years  of  Advancement,  Afro-American  Progress  Illustrated,  Negro  Department 
Cotton  States  and  International  Exposition,  Achievements  of  Successful  Men  and  Women 
of  the  Race  as  a  Guide  to  Success. 

Rules  of  Etiquette  for  all  Occasions,  Marriage  and  Domestic  Life,  The  Care  and 
Management  of  Children,  Bible  Stories  for  the  Young,  Household  Economy,  Athletic 
Sports,  Physical  Development,  How  to  be  Healthy  and  Strong: 

Bookkeeping  and  Penmanship,  Correspondence  and  Letter  Writing,  The  Correct  Use 
of  the  English  Language,  Sentiment  and  Culture  of  Flowers,  Amusements  and  Pastimess 
How  to  Organize  Societies,  Practical  Suggestions  for  Home  and  School,  Masterpieces  of 
Eloquence  Selections  from  the  World's  Best  Authors,  and  an  Encyclopedia  of  Valuable 
Information  and  Important  Facts  for  Reference. 

iv 


CONTENTS    OF   THE    PRACTICAL 
SELF-EDUCATOR 


THIRTY  YEARS  OF  ADVANCEMENT 17 

AFRO-AMERICAN  PROGRESS  ILLUSTRATED 28 

CLERGYMEN  AND  CHURCHES 28 

BISHOP  RICHARD  ALLEN 28 

BISHOP  H.  M.  TURNER 29 

BISHOP  ALEXANDER  WALTERS 30 

BISHOP  B.  T.  TANNER 31 

BISHOP  B.  F.  LEE 33 

BISHOP  J.  A.  HANDY 34 

REV.  JOHN  T.  JENIFER 35 

REV.  JAMES  M.  TOWNSEND 36 

QUINN  CHAPEL,  CHICAGO 39 

REV.  H.  H.  GARNETT 43 

REV.  RICHARD  DEBAPTIST 43 

REV.  ALEXANDER  CRUMMEL 44 

REV.  ALLEN  ALLENSWORTH 44 

REV.  PIERRE  LANDRY 45 

REV.  AUGUSTUS  TOLTON 47 

REV.  PRESTON  TAYLOR 48 

REV.  EMPEROR  WILLIAMS 48 

REV.  W.  D.  JOHNSON 50 

REV.  D.  A.  GRAHAM 51 

REV.  M.  C.  B.  MASON 52 

REV.  J.  F.  MARSHALL 53 

REV.  B    A.  J.  NIXON 53 

ST.  PAUL'S  A.  M.  CHURCH,  RALEIGH,  N.  C...  53 

REV.  JOHN  JASPER 54 

REV.  E.  W.  S.  HAMMOND 55 

AFRO-AMERICAN  COLLEGES  AND  INDUSTRIAL 

SCHOOLS 56 

PROF.  BOOKER  T.  WASHINGTON 60 

PROF.  J.  D.  CHAVIS 62 

PROF.  A.  W.  MCKINNEY „.  64 

PROF.  T.  J.  CALLOWAY 64 

CLAFLIN  UNIVERSITY  AND  INDUSTRIAL  INSTI 
TUTE 67 

CENTRAL  COLLEGE  OF  TENNESSEE 69 

OUR  EDUCATIONAL  PROGRESS 70 

SECRET  SOCIETY  ORGANIZERS  AND  OFFICERS  71 

REV.  W.  W.  BROWN 73 

J.  J.  C.  McKiNLEY 73 

NAVAL  AND  MILITARY  HEROES 74 

TOUSSAINT  L'OUVERTURE 74 

HON.  ROBERT  SMALLS 77 

COL.  JAMES  LEWIS 78 

CAPT.  R.  A.  PAUL 79 

MAJOR  M.  B.  DELANEY 80 

THE  EDUCATIONAL  PROGRESS  OF  THE  AFRO- 
AMERICAN  RACE 81 

NORMAL  EDUCATION 81 


p«oa 

,.  82 

,.  82 

,.  83 

,.  83 

,.  84 

,  84 


COLLEGE  EDUCATION 

PROFESSIONAL  TRAINING 

THE  INDUSTRIES , 

NORTHERN  PHILANTHROPY 

SOUTHERN  APPROPRIATION 

NATIONAL  GOVERNMENT  AID 

SELF-EDUCATION  SUPPORT 84 

IN  NORTHERN  INSTITUTIONS 85 

OUR  BOYS  AND  GIRLS 85 

RISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  AFRO-AMERICAN  LIT 
ERATURE 86 

INTERNATIONAL  EXPOSITION,  1895 91 

NOTED  AFRO-AMERCAN  WOMEN  AND  THEIR 

ACHIEVEMENTS  ...,...., 95 

MRS.  C.  A.  JOHNSON — 97 

MRS.  CORA  L.  BURGAN 98 

Miss  GERTRUDE  J.  WASHINGTON 98 

Miss  IDA  B.  WELLS 99 

MRS.  W.  E.  MATTHEWS 102 

MRS.  KATIE  C.  DAVIS 102 

MRS.  N.  F.  MOSSELL 102 

Miss  PHYLLIS  WHEATLEY 103 

MRS.  FRANCES  E.  PRESTON „ IOC 

MRS.  FANNIE  B.  WILLIAMS, 107 

MRS.  ZELIA  R.  PAGE 107 

MRS.  MARTHA  ANN  RICKS 108 

THE  GUIDE  TO  SUCCESS Ill 

HON.  FREDERICK  DOUGLASS 112 

EDUCATE  YOURSELF 114 

HONESTY •. 115 

SELF-RELIANCE 117 

PERSEVERANCE 118 

FORCE  OF  CHARACTER 120 

INDUSTRY  AND  THRIFT , 121 

CARVE  OUT  YOUR  OWN  FORTUNE 123 

PROF.  I.  GARLAND  PENN 124 

PATIENCE 127 

MENTAL  AN,T  PHYSICAL  CULTURE 131 

BISHOP  B.  W.  ARNETT 131 

PRES.  S.  T.  MITCHELL 13* 

PENNIES  SAVED  MAKE  DOLLARS 136 

CULTIVATE  YOUR  BEST  QUALITIES 138 

INDEPENDENCE ...., 140 

JOHN  MITCHELL,  JR 142 

HELP  YOUR  FELLOW  BE^NG 143 

HAVE  A  DEFINITE  AIM 146 

SELF-RESPECT 149 

BUSINESS  FIRST,  PLEASURE  AFTERWARD 152 

NATURAL  ABILITY 155 

SELF-DENIAL 169 


CONTENTS    OF  THE  PROPER  CONDUCT 

OF   LIFE. 


BOOK  I. 
Rules  of  Etiquette  for  All  Occasions. 

PAGE 

"MANNERS  MAKE  THE  MAN" 17 

THE  TRUE  LADY 23 

THE  TRUE  GENTLEMAN 30 

INTRODUCTIONS  AND  SALUTATIONS 35 

CALLS  AND  VISITS 41 

EVENING  PARTIES 47 

DINNER  PARTIES 55 

ETIQUETTE  OF  WEDDINGS  AND  FUNERALS 63 

How  TO  CONVERSE  WELL 69 

ETIQUETTE  OF  CORRESPONDENCE 73 

PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS 81 

BOOK  II. 

Courtship,  Marriage  and  Domestic  Life. 

MAN  AND  WOMAN,  OR  SENSIBLE  RULES  FOR 

LOVE-MAKING Ill 

WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT  ADAPTED  TO  EACH 

OTHER 121 

THE  MODEL  WIFE 153 

THE  MODEL  HUSBAND 16:> 

THE  ALL-IMPORTANT  NURSERY 179 

HOME  OCCUPATIONS  FOR  LEISURE  HOURS 195 

HOME  PASTIMES  AND  AMUSEMENTS 211 

HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD 227 

HOUSE-BUILDING,  OR  How  TO  OBTAIN  A  HOME  269 

BOOK  III. 
How  to  be  Healthy  and  Strong. 

HEALTHY  DWELLINGS 283 

IMPORTANCE  OF  EXERCISE 291 

How  TO  STRENGTHEN  THE  MUSCLES , 301 

THE   FAMOUS    GERMAN    PAN-GYMNASTIKON, 

OR  SWING  AND  STIRRUPS 317 

HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS 327 

How  TO  NURSE  THE  SICK 351 

How  TO  GIVE  AID  IN  EMERGENCIES 357 

BOOK  IV. 

Business  Rules  and  Forms. 

OF  TERMS  USED  IN  BUSINESS 36-5 


PAGE 

BUSINESS  RULES  AND  LAWS  FOR  DAILY  USE..  371 

BOOKKEEPING 373 

FORMS  FOR  BUSINESS  LETTERS 401 

AGREEMENTS  OR  CONTRACTS 407 

LAWS  OF  PARTNERSHIP 412 

BILLS  OF  SALE,  BONDS  AND  ASSIGNMENTS 416 

DEEDS  AND  MORTGAGES 420 

RIGHTS    AND    DUTIES    OF   LANDLORDS   AND 

TENANTS , 427 

AGENCIES  AND  COLLECTION  OF  DEBTS 434 

LAST  WILLS  AND  TESTAMENTS 439 

FORM  OF  CONSTITUTION  FOR  LYCEUMS 445 

PARLIAMENTARY  RULES  AND  USAGES 450 

FORMS  FOR  RESOLUTIONS  AND  PETITIONS 454 

How  TO  CONDUCT  PUBLIC  CELEBRATIONS 458 

BOOK  V. 

Manual  of  Practical  Suggestions  and  Useful  In 
formation  for  the  Home  and  School. 

ART  OF  WRITING  WELL  AND  How  TO  EXPRESS 

WRITTEN  THOUGHTS  IN  A  CORRECT  MANNER  461 
ART  OF  WRITING  POETRY,  WITH  PRACTICAL 

INSTRUCTIONS  FOR  COMPOSING  VERSES 403 

LANGUAGE  AND  SENTIMENT  OF  FLOWERS 500 

CARE  AND  CULTURE  OF  HOUSE  PLANTS  AND 

FLOWERS 510 

CARE  AND  MANAGEMENT  OF  BIRDS  AND  OTHER 

HOUSEHOLD  PETS 526 

ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION..  542 

SYNONYMS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE 574 

FOREIGN  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  IN  COMMON  USE  594 
ABBREVIATIONS  USED  IN  WRITING  AND 

PRINTING 599 

CONUNDRUMS 600 

BOOK  VI. 

Choice  Selections  of  Poetry  from    the  World's 
Best  Authors.  606 

MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE 657 

BIBLE  STORIES  FOR  THE  YOUNG...,  ..  689 


PROF.    BOOKER    T.    WASHINGTON, 

FOUNDER   OF  TUSKEGEE  INDUSTRIAL  INSTITUTE     AI.A. 


THE  COLLEGE  OF  LIFE 


Practical  Oelh=Educabor. 

A  MANUAL  OF  SELF-IMPROVEMENT  FOR  THE 

COLORED  RACE. 


THIRTY   YEARS    OF   ADVANCEMENT. 


THE  Hon.  Frederick  Douglass  once 
said  in  a  great  public  meeting  in 
New  York,  "  The  colored  race  will 
not  crawl  forever  in  the  dust.  It  is 
honorable  to  do  whitewashing,  but  there  is 
no  reason  why  my  people  should  do  that 
and  nothing  else.  Their  day  will  come,  and 
they  will  be  found  in  all  pursuits,  achieving 
distinction  and  showing  capabilities  which 
they  never  were  supposed  to  possess." 

A  loud  burst  of  applause  greeted  these 
words.  Douglass  stretched  himself  to  his 
full  height  of  six  feet,  and  with  every  nerve 
quivering,  exclaimed,  "  The  destiny  of  the 
colored  race  is  in  their  own  hands.  They 
must  be  ir  and  suffer ;  they  must  toil  and  be 
patient ;  they  must  carve  out  their  own  for 
tune,  and  they  will  do  it." 

Already  the  words  of  the  grea.  orator  and 
prophet  are  coming  true.  Many  are  the 
names  of  Afro-Americans  who  have  distin 
guished  themselves  as  business  men,  teachers, 
clergymen,  lawyers,  editors,  authors,  legisla 
tors  and  agriculturists.  The  reader  will  find 
in  these  pages  a  glowing  record  of  their 
proud  achievements,  which  should  inspire 
the  masses  of  the  colored  people  to  aim  high 


and  march  onward  and  upward,  by  showing 
them  what  others  of  their  race  have  already 
accomplished.  Before  giving  the  biographies 
and  describing  the  successes  of  those  who 
have  climbed  high  upon  the  ladder  of  fame, 
let  us  note  the  general  advancement  made 
by  the  Afro-American  people  during  the 
thirty  years  that  have  passed  since  their 
liberation.  For  most  of  the  facts  and  figures 
that  follow,  we  are  indebted  to  the  brilliant 
Afro-American  author,  Prof.  I.  Garland  Penn. 

What   the  Figures  Show. 

To  determine  the  progress  of  the  race  in 
education  it  is  necessary  to  know  the  relative 
progress  in  the  increase  of  population  since 
Emancipation,  the  number  who  could  read 
and  write,  and  the  number  who  were  in 
school.  According  to  the  census  reports 
mere  were  in  this  country  in 

1850,  3,638,808  Afro-Americans. 

1860,  4,441,830  " 

1870,  4,880,009  " 

1880,  6,580,793 

1890,  7,470,040 

The  census  of  1 860  shows  an  increase  0 

17 


18 


THIRTY   YEARS   OF  ADVANCEMENT. 


703,022  in  ten  years;  that  of  1870  shows 
an  increase  of  438,179  in  ten  years  ;  that  of 
1880  shows  an  increase  of  1,700,784  in  ten 
years;  that  of  1890  shows  an  increase  of 
889,247  in  ten  years.  From  1850  to  1890 
the  race  increased  3,831,232  persons. 

Schools  for  the  Colored  Race. 

It  was  hardly  considered  probable  that 
any  considerable  number  of  the  freedmen 
would  at  once  seize  the  opportunity  for  im 
mediate  education  as  they  did  when  the  first 
ray  of  hope  and  light  beamed  upon  them 
from  the  philanthropic  North.  Yet  the 
Afro-American  at  once  availed  himself  of 
the  opportunities  which  were  offered  under 
the  Freedmens'  Bureau,  the  first  organized 
effort  to  educate  the  freedmen.  With  this 
effort  came  in  close  succession  efforts  of  the 
church  and  those  of  a  general  character,  so 
that  we  now  have  the  following  schools  for 
the  training  of  Afro- American  youth  :  The 
American  Baptist  Home  Mission  Society ; 
the  American  Missionary  Association ;  the 
Presbyterian  Board  of  Missions  for  Freed 
men  ;  the  Freedmen's  Aid  and  Southern 
Educational  Society ;  the  Colored  Evangel 
istic  Fund  (Southern  Presbyterian  Church)  ; 
Negro  Education  and  Evangelization  So 
ciety  (Christian  Church) ;  the  Educational 
Society  in  the  United  Presbyterian  Church  ; 
the  Protestant  Episcopal  Commission ;  the 
African  Methodist  Episcopal  Church ;  the 
African  Methodist  Episcopal  Zion  Church  ; 
the  Colored  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  ir. 
America;  the  Colored  Baptist  Church.  In 
the  non-denominational  schools  of  the  United 
States  the  number  of  schools  for  the  Higher, 
Secondary,  Normal,  Graded  and  Common 
Schools'  training  is  about  400.  More  than 
one-third  of  the  teachers  are  Afro-Ameri 
cans. 

The   number  of  teachers   in   the    Public 


School  system  of  the  United  States,  reported 
by  the  United  States  Census,  in  1890,  was 
23,866,  and  the  number  of  pupils  seeking 
education  under  the  free  school  system  was 
1,460,447.  Year  by  year  the  Afro-Ameri 
can  is  becoming  more  awakened  to  a  sense 
of  duty  in  respect  to  the  training  of  his  off 
spring.  Taking  the  census  figures  for  '90  as 
a  basis,  and  adding  the  Afro-American  teach 
ers  in  denominational  and  non-denomina 
tional  schools,  we  have  a  sum  total  approxi 
mation  of  25,000  Afro-American  teachers  in 
the  United  States  with  1,600,000  pupils. 
The  showing  as  to  teachers  is  a  bright  ray 
of  hope  for  the  Afro-American's  future,  when 
the  fact  is  considered  in  all  of  its  bearings, 
that  these  25,000  teachers  have  been  pre 
pared  and  put  into  the  field  during  a  quarter 
of  a  century,  very  little  more  than  the  school 
life  allotted  an  individual. 

Very  Rapid  Advancement. 

As  tc  pupils  the  showing  is  more  remark- 
able.  Five  years  after  the  war  closed,  in 
1870,  only  a  tenth  of  the  Afro-American 
children  eligible  to  school  opportunities  were 
actually  reported  therein.  In  1890,  we  find 
that  within  a  fraction,  ONE-HALF  of  the  eligi- 
bles  are  reported  in  school.  Figures  can  be 
given  to  authenticate  this  statement. 

In  1870  there  were,  according  to  census 
figures,  2,789,679  persons  of  color  above  the 
age  of  ten  years  who  could  not  read  or 
write.  If  we  should  make  an  approxima 
tion  of  a  million,  for  persons  of  color  under 
ten  years  (which  we  think  every  fair  minded 
reader  will  accept  as  just),  we  should  have 
3,789,679,  who  could  not  read  or  write 
in  the  year  1870.  With  a  population  of 
4,880,009,  we  should  have  one  and  a  tenth 
million  of  people  of  African  descent,  who 
could  read  and  write  in  '70.  It  is  unfair  to 
say  that  the  increase  from  '70  to  '95  should 


THIRTY   YEARS    OF  ADVANCEMENT. 


19 


be  loss  than  four  times  that  of  '70,  under 
great  and  constantly  increasing  educational 
facilities  in  all  the  dep\rtments  of  state  and 
church  education. 

If  the  reader  accepts  the  statement  that 
the  great  educational  endeavors  of  twenty- 
five  years  in  all  departments  and  all  lines, 
justify  an  increase  four  times  as  large  as  that 
of  '70,  we  shall  have  four  and  four-tenths 
millions  of  Afro-Americans  who  can  now 
read  and  write.  The  writer  maintains  that 
of  the  balance  of  illiteracy,  a  majority  are 
ex-slaves  ;  elderly  persons  who  may  not  read 
the  letter  but  who  are  yet  intelligent  by  con 
tact  and  association.  At  least  two  hundred 
thousand  boys  and  girls  of  the  race  to-day 
are  private  students.  In  a  certain  city  there 
are  ten  private  night  schools  in  which  an 
aggregate  of  300  boys  are  training  in  the 
light  of  knowledge  and  education  by  night, 
for  habits  of  industry  by  day. 

Bishop  Atticus  G.  Haygood  says,  "The 
most  unique  and  altogether  wonderful  chap 
ter  in  the  history  of  education  is  that  which 
tells  the  story  of  the  education  of  the  Ne 
groes  of  the  South  since  1865." 

Rev.  C.  C.  Smith,  D.D.,  Cor.  Secretary  of 
the  "Negro  Education  and  Evangelization 
Society "  of  the  Christian  Church,  carefully 
studies  the  problem  and  awakens  to  find 
himself  making  this  admission  that  "  The 
Negroes'  desire  for  education,  considering 
his  past  environments,  is  '  The  Eighth  Won 
der.'  " 

The  Professions. 

The  black  man's  desire  for  professional 
training  has  been  a  subject  for  adverse  criti 
cism.  It  has  been  alleged  that  he  is  acquiring 
too  much  professional  training  for  the  support 
which  conditions  among  the  race  offer  him. 
The  professions  in  which  he  is  most  largely 
represented,  are  the  ministry  and  teaching. 
These  claim  our  largest  numbers  for  many 


reasons  ;  prominent  among  them  is  the  pat 
ent  fact  that  a  people  who  would  rise  must 
have  religious  and  secular  training. 

An  admission  that  these  professions  for 
the  first  few  years  after  the  Civil  War  were 
besieged,  because  of  the  ease  by  which 
employment  could  be  obtained  in  them  is, 
perhaps,  just,  but  for  the  past  ten  years  these 
charges  are  met  with  the  declarations  of 
Conferences,  Convent-ions,  Associations,  Pres 
byteries,  Synods,  Superintendents,  School 
Boards,  etc.,  that  none  need  apply  except 
the  well-equipped.  Of  the  25,000  common 
school  teachers  in  the  Union,  two-thirds  are 
Normal  and  High  School  graduates.  The 
Theological  institutions  have  graduated  over 
600  preachers,  and  five  times  as  many  left 
school  in  their  second  and  third  years,  who 
are  now  in  the  ministry  doing  yeoman  ser 
vice. 

Practice  of  Medicine. 

These  professions  have  been  again  most 
largely  followed  for  the  reason  that  the 
facilities  were  greater,  help  larger  and  such 
training  more  easily  obtained.  Since  and 
prior  to  the  organization  of  schools  for  train 
ing  of  Afro-American  physicians,  500  gradu 
ates  in  the  practice  of  Medicine  have  come 
forth,  occupying  to-day  honorable  stations 
in  the  medical  profession  of  our  common 
country.  There  are  not  twenty-five  Afro- 
American  physicians  who  are  failures,  either 
as  to  their  knowledge  of  medicine  or  finan 
cial  condition.  Their  practice  takes  the  wide 
range  of  from  $1,000  to  $5,000  per  annum. 
Their  residences  are  generally  the  finest  and 
most  representative  in  the  towns  in  which 
they  are  located,  and  they  rapidly  accumu 
late  wealth  because  they  are  skillful  and 
successful  in  their  profession. 

The  Medical  Afro-Americans  are  yearly 
organizing  state  associations  and  bringing 
their  interests  closer  together.  A  graduate 


THIRTY   YEARS   OF  ADVANCEMENT. 


of  Meharry  Medical  School,  now  practicing 
physician  at  Jackson,  Tennessee,  publishes  a 
Medical  Magazine,  known  as  the  Medical 
and  Surgical  Observer,  while  a  staff  of  col 
ored  physicians  and  trained  nurses,  manages 
one  of  the  best  hospitals  in  Chicago — the 
Provident  Hospital.  In  dentistry  there  are 
practicing  physicians  in  the  South,  and  also 
in  the  North.  In  Pharmacy  over  100  have 
been  graduated. 

Judges  and   Lawyers. 

The  profession  in  which  Afro-Americans 
have  met  the  sharpest  opposition  and  the 
strongest  competition  has  been  Law.  There 
have  been  graduated  from  the  Law  Schools 
together  with  those  who  have  taken  private 
courses,  upwards  of  300,  among  whom  we 
find  men  of  eminent  legal  ability,  one  a 
Circuit  Court  Commissioner,  several  Judges, 
numbers  of  Clerks  of  Courts,  several  District, 
Commonwealth  and  City  Attorneys.  They 
are  also  Deans  and  Professors  of  Law  in 
their  legal  schools,  the  students  of  which 
have  not  been  turned  down  by  any  Court  or 
Board  in  examination. 

Greater  credit,  perhaps,  is  due  these  advo 
cates  for  a  successful  stand  maintained,  than 
is  due  those  of  any  other  profession.  Besides 
sharp  competition  with  white  lawyers,  open 
and  free  before  a  white  jury  in  a  land  preg 
nant  with  prejudice,  the  Afro-American 
lawyer  has  had  also  to  contend  with  his 
black  fellow  citizens,  whose  lack  of  confi 
dence  in  the  black  lawyer  is  evident,  for  the 
reason  that  prejudice,  fear  and  oppression 
have  been  elements  sufficient  in  themselves 
to  arouse  and  determine  a  pre-judgment. 

An  eminent  newspaper  of  the  South  makes 
the  statement  that  250  black  lawyers  in  the 
Union  have  practice  ranging  from  $  i  ,000  to 
$20,000  per  annum.  As  in  medicine  so  in 
law,  State  Bar  Associations  are  being  formed 


in  almost  every  state  of  the  South  for  legal 
advice,  union  and  strength. 

In  Literature. 

Our  history  shows  that  prior  to  1861, 
there  had  been  thirty-five  works  of  Afro- 
American  authorship  published  and  sold.  In 
the  earlier  days  of  1 792,  America's  first  poet 
was  Phillis  Wheatley,  a  little  black  girl,  who 
was  brought  to  this  country  in  a  slave  ship. 
After  careful  education  by  her  white  friends, 
she  published  a  book  of  poems.  The  purity 
of  style,  simplicity  of  expression,  and  refine 
ment  of  feeling  shown  in  these  poems, 
caused  many  to  doubt  their  authorship. 
This  doubt  was  set  at  rest  by  her  master 
John  Wheatley  of  Boston,  and  the  leading 
ministers  of  the  city.  They  wrote  a  letter 
in  which  they  declared  Phillis  to  be  the 
author  of  the  poems  published  by  her. 

Near  the  same  time  Benjamin  Banneker,  a 
Negro  of  Virginia,  made  his  own  measure 
ments  and  calculations,  and  published  an 
almanac.  Since  1865  over  100  books  have 
been  published  by  Afro-American  writers. 
They  have  been  mainly  histories  of  the  race, 
autobiographies,  poems,  and  works  on 
science,  fiction,  religion  and  general  litera 
ture.  A  Greek  Grammar  for  beginners,  by 
W.  S.  Scarborough,  of  Wilberforce,  Ohio,  is 
in  use  in  the  schools  of  Ohio. 

In  Journalism. 

The  first  journal  published  in  race  interest 
was  Freedom's  Journal,  issued  in  1827,  in 
New  York  City.  At  the  present  time  there 
are  over  200  journals  and  magazines  pub 
lished  by  the  colored  people  of  the  country. 
At  a  meeting  of  the  State  Press  Association 
of  Virginia,  the  statement  was  made  that 
the  Afro-American  newspapers  of  that  state 
owned  property  amounting  to  $25,000.  At 
least  two-thirds  of  these  publications  are 


THIRTY   YEARS    OF  ADVANCEMENT. 


21 


made  in  their  own  offices  and  on  their  own 
presses. 

Several  of  our  journalists  hold  responsible 
positions  on  the  leading  dailies  as  editors  of 
departments  and  reporters.  Essays,  short 
tories  and  poems  by  race  writers  have 
appeared  in  the  North  American  Review, 
Arena,  Harper's,  Forum,  Atlantic  Monthly, 
Frank  Leslie,  Our  Day,  The  Independent, 
The  Sunday  School  Journal  of  the  Metho 
dist  Church,  and  other  magazines  of  the 
country. 

Afro  American    Churches. 

Bishop  Haygood,  of  M.  E.  Church  South, 
very  truthfully  writes  in  one  of  his  books 
that  all  of  the  Negro's  interest,  particularly 
his  social  life,  centers  in  his  church.  The 
denominations  in  which  the  Afro-Americans 
are  most  largely  found  are :  Methodist  Epis 
copal,  African  Methodist  Episcopal,  African 
Methodist  Episcopal  Zion,  Colored  Metho 
dist  Episcopal  Church  in  America,  the  Metho 
dist  Protestant,  the  African  Union  Methodist 
Protestant,  the  Union  American  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  the  Zion  Union  Apostolic 
Church,  the  Evangelist  Missionary  Church 
in  America,  Congregational  Methodist 
Church,  Christian  Church,  Protestant  Epis 
copal,  Cumberland  Presbyterian,  Presbyterian 
Church  in  America,  Presbyterian  Church  in 
the  United  States,  United  Presbyterian 
Church,  Lutherans,  Congregationalist  and 
Regular  Baptist  Churches. 

The  numbers  in  these  denominations  are 
in  some  instances  very  large  and  in  others 
small.  The  division  and  separation,  particu 
larly  in  the  Methodist  Churches,  are  upon 
very  slight  and  inconsequential  grounds.  Of 
these  denominations  there  are  about  22,000 
organizations,  22,200  church  edifices,  with  a 
seating  capacity  of  perhaps  six  millions, 
(since  an  estimate  cannot  be  made  in  some 


cases  on  account  of  the  absence  of  separate 
statistics  on  this  last  item). 

The  African  Methodist  Episcopal,  African 
Methodist  Episcopal  Zion,  the  Colored 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  in  America,  the 
African  Union  Methodist  Protestant  Church, 
the  Union  American  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  The  Zion  Union  Apostolic,  the 
Evangelist  Missionary  Church  in  America, 
the  Congregational  Methodist  Church,  the 
Cumberland  Presbyterian  Church  and  regu 
lar  Colored  Baptist  Church,  own  920  halls 
with  a  seating  capacity  of  78,289. 

Number  of  Church   Members. 

The  value  of  the  Afro- Americans'  church 
property  may  be  approximated  at  $22,570,- 
882  ;  the  number  of  church  members, 
2,613,154.  This  estimate  exceeds  that  of 
Dr.  H.  K.  Carroll,  Special  Agent  for  the 
U.  S.  Census  Bureau  on  Churches,  in  the 
Forum  by  over  two  thousand  members,  for 
the  reason  that  special  care  was  taken  in  the 
separation  of  Afro-American  membership 
from  those  of  the  whites,  where  no  separate 
returns  are  given  in  the  U.  S.  Census  bulle 
tins.  The  churches  built  by  Afro-Americans 
are  very  fine.  The  Afro-American  who 
makes  five  dollars  per  week,  usually  contri 
butes  a  fifth  of  that  to  his  church. 

There  are  twenty-six  bishops  in  the  dis 
tinctively  Afro-American  Methodist  bodies. 
The  general  officers  are  men  of  ability. 
Their  colleges,  normal  schools  and  academies 
are  manned  by  Afro-American  presidents, 
principals,  professors  and  instructors.  Their 
members  contributed  for  the  last  eight  years 
over  $600,000  for  the  cause  of  education,  in 
churches  where  the  Anglo-Saxon  and  Afro- 
American  are  still  blending  their  interests. 
Four  Afro-Americans  are  at  the  head  of  four 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  schools,  Profes 
sors  hold  responsible  chairs,  and  writers  are 


22 


THIRTY    YEARS    OF  ADVANCEMENT. 


being  recognized  in  the  the  literary  channels 
of  the  church. 

In  the  Presbyterian  Church  a  similar  con 
dition  prevails.  At  the  General  Assembly, 
which  met  in  Washington,  an  Afro-American 
President,  Dr.  D.  J.  Saunders,  was  heard  in 
behalf  of  his  school  and  its  endowment,  etc. 
He  was  there  and  then  pledged  $400,000  for 
the  benefit  of  Biddle  University,  Charlotte, 
North  Carolina. 

There  are  fifty-seven  Afro-American  Presi 
dents  of  Afro-American  colleges,  denomina 
tional  and  otherwise.  About  $100,000  are 
yearly  contributed  or  expended  in  Afro- 
American  education  by  various  societies, 
denominations,  etc.,  nearly  one-half  of  which 
is  contributed  by  the  Afro-American  himself. 
Many  of  the  largest  edifices  and  finest  church 
buildings  are  those  owned  by  Afro-Ameri 
can  congregations.  "In  three  large  cities  of 
the  South  (said  a  Southern  man  in  the 
writer's  presence)  the  finest  churches  are 
'  Nigger'  churches."  One  of  the  seven  finest 
Sunday-schools  in  the  27,463  of  the  great 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  is  an  Afro- 
American  School,  the  plan  of  which  has 
been  adopted  by  several  leading  Anglo- 
Saxon  Sunday-schools. 

Wealth  and  Business  Interests. 
The  wealth  of   the  Afro-Americans  has 

been  fixed  by  statisticians  at  the  following 

figures  : 

Alabama $9,200,125 

Oregon 85,000 

Connecticut 500,155 

Delaware 1,200,179 

North  Dakota 76,459 

Florida 7,900,040 

Utah 75,ooo 

Iowa 2,500,372 

Chicago,  alone 2,500,000 

Indiana 4,004,113 

Kentucky 5,900,000 

Maine 175,211 

^Missouri    .,....,.  6,600,340 


Minnesota 1,100,236 

Montana 120,000 

New  York 17,400,756 

New  Mexico 290,000 

Nebraska 2,500,000 

Massachusetts 9,004,122 

Rhode  Island 3.400,000 

South  Carolina 12,500,000 

Tennessee 10,400,211 

West  Virginia 5,600,721 

North  Carolina 11,010,652 

Nevada 250,000 

Arkansas 8,ioo,-5i5 

California 4,006,209 

Colorado 3,100,472 

District  Columbia 5,300,633 

South  Dakota 175,225 

Georgia 10,415,330 

Illinois 8,300,511 

Indian  Territory 600,000 

Kansas 3,900,222 

Louisiana . 18,100,528 

Mississippi     .......  13,400,213 

Maryland 9,900,735 

Michigan 4,800,000 

New  Jersey 3,300,185 

New  Hampshire 300,125 

Virginia .  4,900,000 

Ohio 7,800,325 

Pennsylvania 15,300,648 

Texas 18,010,545 

Vermont 1,100,371 

Washington 573,000 

Wyoming 231,115 

The  total  amount  of  property  owned  by 
the  race  is  $263,000,000,  showing  a  sur 
prising  growth  in  the  accumulation  of  wealth. 

This  report,  which  is  an  underestimate 
has  been  accepted  as  a  most  remarkable 
showing.  It  is  an  underestimate  by  at  least 
ten  millions.  For  instance,  in  the  State  of 
Virginia,  according  to  the  report  of  the 
Auditor  of  Public  Accounts,  the  Afro- 
American  property  in  the  State  was  valued 
at  $9,425,578.  This  is  over  four  million  and 
a  half  more  than  the  above  table.  In  Texas 
the  property  interests  of  the  Afro-Americans 
are  estimated  at  twenty  millions,  two  millions 
more  than  the  above  table  gives.  The  Comp 
troller  of  South  Carolina  informs  the  writer 


THIRTY   YEARS    OF  ADVANCEMENT. 


23 


that  the  figures  above  given  for  South  Caro 
lina  are  very  much  below  the  real  estimate. 

With  these  corrections  and  one  or  two 
exceptions  the  figures  are  in  the  main  cor 
rect,  and  we  should  have  an  estimated  wealth 
of  not  less  than  $275,000,000  for  the  Afro- 
American  population  of  the  United  States. 
This  added  to  church  property  would  give 
$300,000,000. 

Until  the  failure  of  the  Penny  Savings 
Bank  of  Chattanooga,  due  to  money  loaned 
and  inability  to  make  collections,  the  Afro- 
Americans  had  five  banking  institutions. 
The  remaining  four  art  doing  a  splendid 
business.  There  are  not  less  than  thirty-five 
Building,  Loan  and  Co-operative  Associa 
tions  on  a  firm  footing  and  doing  legitimate 
business,  subject  to  the  regular  state  and 
municipal  investigation.  Lack  of  space  pre 
vents  the  details  of  the  operations,  assets  and 
liabilities  of  each  of  these  efforts. 

This  has  been  accumulated  in  spite  of  the 
failure  of  the  Freedmen's  Savings  Bank. 
This  bank  was  established  under  the  Na 
tional  Government  in  1866,  with  branch 
offices  in  the  different  states.  In  this  bank 
the  colored  people  deposited  in  the  five  years 
succeeding  the  war,  nearly  fifty-seven  million 
dollars.  As  the  result  of  bad  management 
it  failed  in  1871,  and  the  savings  from  the 
Negro's  scanty  wages  were  thus  largely 
swept  away.  The  confidence  thus  shaken 
in  the  outset  has  never  been  entirely  restored. 

Tradesmen  and  General  Laborers. 

Until  recent  years  the  Afro-American  has 
had  a  monopoly  of  the  general  trade  labor 
of  the  South.  Of  late  skilled  labor  has  been 
the  demand,  and  in  many  instances  he  has 
been  driven  out  of  the  field,  but  in  every 
southern  city  there  are  Afro-Americans  who 
can  do  the  best  work  in  all  trades.  The 
writer  knows  of  an  instance  in  which  a  very 


large  church  was  remodeled  and  a  handsome 
pressed  brick  front  was  a  part  of  the  improve 
ment.  There  could  not  be  found  in  a  city 
of  22,000  inhabitants,  masons  who  could  lay 
these  brick  satisfactorily.  In  response  to  a 
telegram  four  Afro-Americans  were  secured, 
and  the  front  was  completed.  A  more  beau 
tiful  piece  of  work  of  its  kind  has  not  been 
done  in  the  city.  One  of  these  men  was  a 
graduate  of  one  of  our  best  industrial  schools. 

Supply  of  Skilled  Labor. 

The  dearth  in  recent  years  of  our  mechan 
ics  is  due  to  age,  infirmities  and  death  of 
those  who  were  taught  the  trades  in  slavery; 
but  the  large  and  intelligent  class  of  me 
chanics,  who  are  being  sent  out  from  our 
mechanical  schools,  men  whose  heads,  hearts 
and  hands  are  trained,  is  remedying  the 
deficiency.  Nearly  6,000  of  our  young 
people  are  enrolled  in  the  Industrial  depart 
ments  of  the  various  Afro-American  schools 
and  it  is  a  fortunate  thing  that  nearly  all  of 
the  large  schools  of  the  South  now  have 
their  industrial  departments. 

Rev.  J.  C.  Hartzell,  D.D.,  Secretary  of  the 
Freedman's  Aid  and  Southern  Education 
Society,  was  heard  once  to  say,  "A  man  said 
to  me,  '  I  will  tell  you  one  thing,  you  cannot 
make  a  mechanic  out  of  a  Negro.'  I  took  a 
wheel  out  of  my  pocket  and  showed  it  to 
him.  I  said,  'There  came  into  our  shop  at 
Central  Tennessee  College,  a  black  young 
man  with  no  white  blood  in  his  veins,  who 
had  never  seen  such  a  machine  before  as  that 
required  to  make  this  wheel.  The  manager 
had  a  lot  of  these  wheels  to  make.  This 
wheel  must  be  made  very  exact ;  there  must 
not  be  the  least  variation  in  any  of  its  parts. 
The  manager  asked  the  young  man  if  he 
could  make  wheels,  and  he  said  he  would 
try.  He  did  try  and  cut  twenty-six  hundred 
of  these  cogs  before  he  made  a.  variation,  J 


24 


THIRTY   YEARS   OF  ADVANCEMENT. 


wonder  if  there  is  any  other  wheel  of  the 
kind  ever  made  by  a  Negro.  We  are  proud, 
first,  that  we  have  such  places,  and  second, 
because  such  places  are  filled  up  with  black 
boys."  This  was  done  in  the  school  of 
Mechanic  Arts,  at  Central  Tennessee  College, 
Nashville,  Tennessee.  From  the  same  school 
the  writer  saw  a  ten  inch  telescope  exhibited 
at  the  General  Conference  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  at  Omaha,  Neb.,  May, 
1892.  This  telescope  is  now  in  the  obser 
vatory  at  Laurence  University,  Appleton, 
Wisconsin,  having  been  built  for  that  pur 
pose.  Three  of  the  professors'  homes  at 
Clark  University,  Atlanta,  Ga.,  were  built  by 
the  industrial  students. 

Schools  with  Industrial  Departments. 

The  largest  agricultural  and  industrial 
features  are  connected  with  the  following 
schools :  Hampton  Normal  and  Agricultural 
Institute,  Tuskegee  Normal  and  Industrial 
Institute,  Bishop  College,  Central  Tennessee, 
Claflin  University,  Clark  University,  Shaw 
University,  Spellman  Female  Institute, 
Straight  University,  Talladega  College, 
Tougaloo  University,  State  Normal  and 
Industrial  School  (Alabama)  and  others. 

These  with  others  are  yearly  sending  forth 
skilled  laborers  who  demand  a  consideration 
and  can  easily  compete  in  all  lines  of  indus 
try,  where  prejudice  does  not  debar  them. 
Tuskegee  Institute,  situated  in  the  heart  of 
the  "black  belt"  in  Alabama  was  founded  by 
Booker  T.  Washington,  an  Afro-American. 
From  a  small  one-room  beginning  he  has  a 
school  property  there  of  twenty-one  build 
ings,  and  1 ,400  acres  of  land,  and  this  prop 
erty  is  valued  at  $180,000. 

Of  this  school,  Mrs.  A.  J.  Cooper,  in  "A 
Voice  from  the  South,"  the  ablest  book  yet 
written  by  a  Negro,  on  the  Negro,  says: 
"  la  the  heart  of  what  is  known  as  the  '  Black 


Belt,'  of  Alabama,  and  within  easy  reach  of 
the  great  cotton  plantations  of  Georgia,  Mis 
sissippi  and  Florida,  a  devoted  young  colored 
man  ten  years  ago  started  a  school  with  about 
thirty  Negro  children  assembled  in  a  comical 
looking  shanty  at  Tuskegee  His  devotion 
was  contagious  and  his  Work  grew ;  an  aban 
doned  farm  of  100  acres  was  secured,  and  that 
gradually  grew  to  640  acres,  largely  wood' 
land,  on  which  a  busy  and  prosperous  school 
is  located;  and  besides,  a  supply  farm  was 
added,  of  heavy  rich  land,  800  acres,  from 
which  grain  and  sugar  cane  are  the  main 
products. 

What  Becomes  of  Them. 

"Since  188 1,  2,947  students  have  been 
taught  here,  of  whom  102  have  graduated, 
while  200  more  have  received  training  to  fit 
them  to  do  good  work  as  teachers,  intelligent 
farmers  and  mechanics.  The  latest  enroll 
ment  shows  girls,  247  ;  boys,  264,  Of  the 
1 02  graduates,  70  per  cent,  are  teachers, 
ministers  and  farmers.  They  usually  com 
bine  teaching  and  farming.  Three  are  print 
ers  (learned  the  trades  at  school),  one  is  a 
tinner,  one  a  blacksmith,  one  a  wheelwright, 
three  are  merchants,  three  are  carpenters, 
others  are  in  the  professions  or  filling  miscel 
laneous  positions." 

The  following  statement  from  one  of  the 
leading  journals  of  Washington,  entitled, 
"  Farms  of  Negroes  ;  Nearly  all  of  them  are 
Free  from  Debt,"  is  of  interest  as  showing 
that  the  colored  race  are  capable  of  thrift 
and  good  business  management  :  "  It  is  an 
interesting  fact  that  of  all  the  homes  and 
farm  property  in  the  United  States  that  which 
is  the  least  incumbered  by  mortgages  is  owned 
by  colored  women  in  the  South.  The  statis 
tics  of  the  census  office  shows  that  27.97 
per  cent,  of  all  the  homes  and  farm  property 
in  the  country  is  mortgaged — that  is,  about 


THIRTY   YEARS    OF  ADVANCEMENT. 


72  out  of  every  100  homes  and  farms  are 
free  of  incumbrance. 

The  percentage  of  property  owned  by 
colored  men  without  mortgages  is  88.58,  and 
the  percentage  owned  by  colored  women 
without  mortgages  is  92.26 — that  is  of  all 
the  farms  and  homes  owned  by  colored 
women  in  the  United  States  36,831  are  free 
from  debt,  and  only  3,080  carry  mortgages. 
This  percentage  is  a  greai  deal  better  than 
that  of  the  white  race,  either  men  or  women. 
The  percentage  of  mortgaged  property  owned 
by  the  entire  Negro  population  is  only  10.71 
— that  is,  less  than  eleven  homes  and  farms 
o\vned  by  Negroes  in  the  United  States  out 
of  one  hundred  are  incumbered  by  debt,  and 
as  an  evidence  of  the  thrift  of  the  race  it 
appears  that  nearly  all  these  mortgages 
represent  deferred  payments  of  purchase 
money. 

Farms  and   Homes. 

Of  the  12,690,152  homes  and  farms  in  the 
United  States  1,186,174  are  occupied  by 
pure  blacks  and  224,595  by  mulattos.  Of 
the  full  blooded  Negroes  207,616  own  their 
farms  and  homes  and  978,558  pay  rent.  Of 
the  mulattos  56,672  own,  and  167,923  rent. 
Of  the  Negro  owners  167,705  are  men  and 
39,911  are  women.  The  largest  number  of 
colored  home  owners  is  found,  of  course, 
in  the  southern  states,  and  it  is  noticeable 
that  the  proportion  of  farms  owned  by 
Negroes  in  the  South  is  much  larger  than 
the  homes,  while  the  reverse  is  the  case  in 
the  North. 

"It  is  also  a  fact  that  the  proportion  of 
Negro  home-ownership  in  cities  is  much 
smaller  than  in  the  rural  districts.  The  fol 
lowing  table  shows  the  geographical  divisions 
of  Negro  property  free  and  incumbered,  and 
the  reader  will  be  struck  with  the  large  pro 
portion  of  farms  not  mortgaged  : 


States. 

North  Atlantic  . 
South  Atlantic  . 
Northern  Central 
Southern  Central 
Western 


No.  of  No.  of 

free  farms    mortgaged  farms 
and  homes.       and  homes. 


5,808  3,921 

107,084  8,032 

20,060  9.691 

100,591  7,608 

1,204  289 

Total 234,747  29,541 

Another  institution  founded  by  the  race  is 
the  Provident  Hospital,  of  Chicago.  Preju 
dice  because  of  color  has  denied  our  doctors 
opportunity  for  practical  surgical  work,  and 
refused  our  young  women  who  wish  to 
become  trained  nurses,  admittance  to  the 
hospital  training  schools  of  the  country.  Out 
of  this  necessity  grew  the  Provident  Hos 
pital,  which  is  owned  and  managed  by 
colored  men.  Patients  of  every  color  and 
all  creeds  are  treated  by  Afro- American 
nurses  and  physicians,  and  the  cures  there 
effected  have  attracted  more  than  local  atten 
tion  in  the  medical  world.  The  training: 

o 

school  has  graduated  a  number  of  nurses 
and  has  many  more  applicants  for  training 
than  can  be  accomodated. 

All  Kinds  of  Labor. 

As  a  general  laborer,  the  Negro  needs  no 
introduction.  He  has  built  the  railroads  of 
the  South,  watered  and  nurtured  its  fields, 
reclaimed  its  swamps,  beautified  its  cities, 
and  caused  the  waste  places  to  blossom  as 
the  rose. 

Besides  what  the  race  has  accomplished  as 
general  laborers  and  skilled  artisans,  it  has  a 
most  creditable  record  in  inventions.  There 
is  not  space  here  to  enumerate  all  the  patents 
that  have  been  granted  to  colored  men,  but 
these  are  sufficient  to  show  that  the  race  is 
not  deficient  in  mechanical  invention.  To  one 
skilled  mechanic  alone,  Elijah  McCoy,  of 
Detroit,  Mich.,  fifteen  patents  have  been 
granted  for  railway  lubricating  cups. 


26 


THIRTY   YEARS   OF  ADVANCEMENT. 


With  most  meagre  incentive,  our  race  has 
many  amateur  artists  who  possess  great 
native  talent,  and  several  who  have  won 
recognition  for  their  ability  as  professionals. 
E.  N.  Bannister,  of  Providence,  Rhode 
Island,  had  a  picture  in  the  Centennial 
Exhibition,  of  Philadelphia,  in  1876,  which 
was  awarded  one  of  the  medals  of  the  first 
class.  This  picture,  "  Under  the  Oaks," 
was  purchased  for  fifteen  hundred  dollars 
by  a  wealthy  Boston  gentleman.  C.  E.  Por 
ter,  of  Hartford,  Connecticut,  exhibits  in  the 
National  Academy  of  Design  of  New  York, 
in  which  city  he  has  a.  studio. 

A  Celebrated   Artist. 

H.  O.  Tanner,  of  Philadelphia,  studied  in 
his  native  city,  at  the  Academy  of  Fine  Arts, 
and  has  exhibited  in  the  art  galleries  of  New 
York,  Chicago,  Louisville,  Cincinnati,  Wash 
ington  and  Paris.  He  spent  several  years 
abroad,  prosecuting  his  studies  under  Ben 
jamin  Constant  and  Jean  Paul  Laurens,  in 
the  Institute  of  France.  On  his  return  to 
this  country  they  gave  him  a  letter  of  recom 
mendation.  He  belongs  to  the  American 
Art  Association  in  Paris,  and  won  the  prize 
for  a  sketch  of  "The  Deluge,"  from  the 
Julian  School  of  Art  in  1892,  and  another 
for  a  sketch  of  "  Peasant  Life  in  Brittany." 
Mr.  Tanner  thinks  the  picturesque  in  our  own 
race  life  can  best  be  interpreted  by  one  of 
ourselves,  and  has  a  picture  representing 
one  phase  of  Negro  life.  He  has  called  it 
"  The  First  Lesson."  As  a  study,  it  is  re 
garded  by  art  critics  as  an  admirable  piece 
of  work. 

We  have  a  number  of  excellent  crayon 
portrait  painters  who  have  made  little  effort 
to  acquaint  the  world  with  their  gifts.  We 
'also  have  a  representative  in  the  art  of 
sculpture. 

iss   Fydmonia  Lewis,  a  young,  ignorant 


girl,  saw  the  statue  of  Benjamin  Franklin  on 
a  first  visit  to  Boston,  and  exclaimed,  "  I  can 
make  a  stone  man!"  Wm.  Lloyd  Garrison 
introduced  her  to  a  leading  Boston  sculptor, 
who  gave  her  some  clay  and  the  model  of  a 
human  foot,  which  she  copied.  From  this 
beginning,  Miss  Lewis  has  now  a  studio  of 
her  own  in  Rome.  Here  she  has  executed 
work  which  has  brought  her  the  patronage 
of  noted  men  and  women.  Her  best  works 
are  busts  of  Charles  Sumner  and  Abraham 
Lincoln,  "  Hiawatha's  Wooing,"  "  Forever 
Free,"  "  Hagar  in  the  Wilderness"  and  the 
Madonna. 

Gifted  in  Music. 

"  Blind  Tom,"  our  musical  prodigy,  imi 
tates  on  the  piano  all  sounds,  and  plays  the 
most  difficult  classical  music  after  hearing 
it  once  rendered.  He  has  composed  the 
"  Battle  of  Manassas,"  in  which  the  firing  of 
cannon,  marching  of  troops  and  playing  of 
the  bands  are  perfectly  reproduced.  Madame 
Selika,  "  The  Black  Patti  "  (Madame  Jones), 
and  Mrs.  Nellie  Brown  Mitchell  are  the  best 
of  numbers  of  splendid  vocalists  who  are 
training  every  year  in  the  art  the  race  loves 
best.  Gussie  L.  Davis  is  one  of  the  most 
popular  song  writers  of  the  day.  The  Fisk 
Jubilee  Singers  made  the  music  of  the  Ameri 
can  Negro  known  throughout  the  world. 

So  eminent  an  authority  as  Dr.  Antonin 
Dvorak,  the  great  Bohemian  composer, 
voluntarily  says  :  "I  am  now  satisfied  that 
the  future  music  of  this  country  must  be 
founded  upon  what  are  called  the  Negro 
melodies.  This  must  be  the  real  foundation 
of  any  serious  and  original  school  of  com 
posers  to  be  developed  in  the  United  States. 
When  I  first  came  here  I  was  impressed 
with  this  idea,  and  it  has  developed  into 
a  settled  conviction.  These  beautiful  and 
varied  themes  are  the  product  of  the  soil, 


THIRTY   YEARS    OF  ADVANCEMENT. 


27 


They  are  American.  I  would  like  to  trace 
out  the  individual  authorship  of  the  Negro 
melodies,  for  it  would  throw  a  great  deal  of 
light  upon  the  question  I  am  deeply  inter 
ested  in  at  present. 

"These  are  the  folk  songs  of  America, 
and  your  composers  must  turn  to  them. 
All  of  the  great  musicians  have  borrowed 
from  the  songs  of  the  common  people. 
Beethoven's  most  charming  scherzo  is  based 
upon  what  might  now  be  considered  a  skill 
fully  handled  Negro  melody.  I  have  myself 
gone  to  the  simple,  half-forgotten  tunes  of 
the  Bohemian  peasants  for  hints  in  my  most 
serious  work.  Only  in  this  way  can  a  musi 
cian  express  the  true  sentiment  of  his  people. 
He  gets  into  touch  with  the  common 
humanity  of  his  country. 

A  Noble  School  of  Music. 

"  In  the  Negro  melodies  of  America  I 
discover  all  that  is  needed  for  a  great  and 
noble  school  of  music.  They  are  pathetic, 
tender,  passionate,  melancholy,  solemn,  re 
ligious,  bold,  merry,  gay  or  what  you  will. 
It  is  music  that  sets  itself  to  any  mood  or 
any  purpose.  There  is  nothing  in  the  whole 
range  of  composition  that  cannot  be  supplied 
with  themes  from  this  source.  The  American 
musician  understands  these  tunes,  and  they 
move  sentiment  in  him.  They  appeal  to  his 
imagination  because  of  their  associations. 

"When  I  was  in  England  one  of  the 
ablest  musical  critics  in  London  complained 
to  me  that  there  was  no  distinctively  Eng 
lish  school  of  music,  nothing  that  appealed 
particularly  to  the  British  mind  and  heart. 
I  replied  to  him  that  the  composers  of  Eng 
land  had  turned  their  backs  upon  the  fine 
melodies  of  Ireland  and  Scotland  instead  of 
making  them  the  essence  of  an  English 
school.  It  is  a  great  pity  that  English 
musicians  have  not  profited  out  of  this  rich 


store.  Somehow  the  old  Irish  and  Scotch 
ballads  have  not  seized  upon  or  appealed  to 
them.  I  hope  it  will  not  be  so  in  this  coun 
try,  and  I  intend  to  do  all  in  my  power  to 
call  attention  to  these  treasures  of  melody 
which  you  have. 

"Among  my  pupils  in  the  National  Con 
servatory  of  Music  I  have  discovered  strong 
talents.  There  is  one  young  man  upon 
whom  I  am  building  strong  expectations. 
His  compositions  are  based  upon  Negro 
melodies,  and  I  have  encouraged  him  in  this 
direction.  The  other  members  in  the  com 
position  class  seem  to  think  that  it  is  not  in 
good  taste  to  get  ideas  from  the  old  plantation 
songs,  but  they  are  wrong,  and  I  have  tried 
to  impress  upon  their  minds  the  fact  that  the 
greatest  composers  have  not  considered  it 
beneath  their  dignity  to  go  to  the  humble 
folk  songs  for  motifs. 

Minstrels  and  Melodies. 

"  I  did  not  come  to  America  to  interpret 
Beethoven  or  Wagner  for  the  public.  That 
is  not  my  work  and  I  would  not  waste  any 
time  on  it.  I  came  to  discover  what  young 
Americans  had  in  them  and  help  them  to 
express  it.  When  the  Negro  minstrels  are 
here  again  I  intend  to  take  my  young  com 
posers  with  me  and  have  them  comment  on 
the  melodies." 

The  facts  and  statistics  here  presented 
furnish  but  a  faint  idea  of  the  magnificent 
possibilities  of  our  race.  The  Negro  has 
marvellous  native  ability.  Let  him  have 
equal  ambition  and  determination.  Then 
will  his  future  be  assured.  He  will  become 
a  power  for  good  in  these  United  States. 
He  will  win  his  way  .by  undisputed  merit. 
He  will  command  an  approbation  and  secure 
a  position  and  distinction  that  cannot  justly 
be  denied  him.  The  golden  dawn  of  a  new 
and  better  day  "stands  tiptoe  on  the  hills.'' 


AFRO-AMERICAN  PROGRESS 
ILLUSTRATED. 


CLERGYMEN  AND   CHURCHES. 


r 


kHE  materials  for  illustrating  the  pro 
gress  of  our  race  are  so  ample  that 
one  finds  a  difficulty  in  deciding 
where  to  begin.  Turn  whither  we 
will,  the  eye  discovers  illustrious  names, 
shining  like  galaxies  in  the  firmament.  In 
nearly  all  pursuits  and  professions  the  Afro- 
American  has  distinguished  himself,  and  a 
great  array  of  shining  examples  are  thereby 
presented  for  the  encouragement  and  inspira 
tion  of  the  great  masses  of  our  colored  race, 
especially  the  young. 

When  we  consider  the  disadvantages  under 
which  our  people  have  labored,  the  lowly 
life  into  which  they  were  born,  the  little 
opportunity 'they  have  had  for  educating 
themselves  until  within  the  last  few  years, 
and  the  prejudice  that  has  confronted  them 
at  every  step,  it  must  in  truth  be  said  that 
the  progress  they  have  made  is  the  marvel 
and  the  miracle  of  modern  times.  If  the 
Negro  can  accomplish  so  much  in  the  face 
of  such  opposing  forces,  what  might  ,he  not 
do  under  favorable  conditions  and  circum 
stances. 

Among  the  many  names  that  give  lustre 
to  our  Afro-American  race,  we  place  first  of 
all  the  Bishops  of  various  churches — noble, 
self-sacrificing,  eloquent  men,  who,  by  their 
learning,  their  ability  in  the  administration  of 
church  affairs,  their  oratorical  pre-eminence 
and  unsullied  lives,  have  gained  the  highest 
position  in  the  gift  of  the  different  religious 
bodies  to  which  they  belong.  The  sketches 
of  these  distinguished  men  here  presented 
furnish  lessons  of  weighty  meaning.  They 
28 


rose  from  poverty  and  obscurity  to  places  of 
vast  power  and  influence.  From  the  lowly 
cabin  they  have  come  forth  to  stand  among 
the  great  ones  of  the  earth.  The  first  to  be 
mentioned  is  one  who  lived  before  the  present 
generation,  but  whose  noble  work  still 
endures. 

BISHOP  RICHARD  ALLEN. 

This  manly,  dignified,  staunch  friend  tc 
the  Afro-American  race,  and  the  founder  aru 
promoter  of  the  African  Methodist  Epis 
copal  faith,  was  born  in  Philadelphia  in  1760. 
He  united  with  the  Methodist  Church  at  the 
age  of  seventeen,  and  at  twenty- two  began 
preaching  and  travelled  extensively  through 
the  Middle  States. 

His  influence  as  an  orator  was  great  even 
in  youth,  and  at  the  time  of  his  conversion 
his  master  was  so  struck  by  his  eloquence 
that  he  allowed  him  to  preach  to  him,  and 
was  afterward  converted  under  his  preach 
ing.  It  is  open  to  doubt,  however,  as  to 
whether  or  not  the  divine  influence  took 
entire  possession  of  the  white  man,  as  Mr. 
Allen  was  obliged  to  purchase  his  freedom. 

Richard  Allen  was  ordained  deacon  in 
1799  by  Rt.  Rev.  Francis  Asbury,  Bishop 
of  the  Methodist  Church.  At  the  organiza 
tion  of  the  A.  M.  E.  Church,  A.  D.  1816, 
he  was  elected  the  first  African  Bishop  in 
America.  In  withdrawing  from  the  church 
in  which  he  was  refused  the  respect  that  was 
his  due  as  a  man  and  an  humble  and  zealous 
worker  for  the  cause  of  Christ,  he  took  a 
step  that  was  new  and  fraught  with  dangers 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


29 


that  cannot,  at  this  time,  be  fully  estimated ; 
but  his  friends,  Rev.  A.  Jones,  William 
White  and  D.  Ginnings,  stood  by  him,  and 
his  ultimate  success  is  a  matter  of  history. 

The  growth  of  the  A.  M.  E.  Church  is  a 
splendid  tribute  to  the  Negro  genius.  Of  all 
the  denominations  under  the  name  of 
"Methodist,"  white  or  black,  it  has  seemed 
to  touch  the  heart  of  the  Negro  and  make 
him  a  man  of  power.  Its  institutions 
and  laws  are  the  result  of  Negro 
genius,  and  also  are  the  exhibition 
of  his  executive  ability  and  abundant 
wisdom. 

When  Richard  manifested  his  faith 
in  the  future  and  declared  himself  no 
longer  willing  to  have  the  body  and 
blood  of  Christ  prostituted  by  being 
withheld  from  him  until  his  white 
brethren  (?)  were  served,  he  put  his 
foot  on  the  neck  of  hell-born  preju 
dice,  and  from  that  moment  a  new 
era  dawned  for  the  Negro,  and  a  new 
song  was  given  to  the  angels  in 
neaven.  This  was  in  the  early  days 
of  1816,  when  the  times  were  not 
favorable  to  the  expression  of  a  dis 
sent  from  anything  a  white  man  said 
or  did  in  church  or  state. 

Bishop  Allen  is  revered  by  the 
African  Methodist  Episcopal  Church 
as  the  founder  of  their  faith.  Says 
one  of  their  scholarly  writers : 

"  If  Luther  was  the  apostle  of  mind  free 
dom,  and  Wesley  of  soul  freedom,  then 
Allen  was  the  apostle  of  human  freedom  or 
liberty  of  mind  and  body.  If  Luther's 
motto  was,  'The  just  shall  live  by  faith,' 
and  Wesley's,  'The  world  is  my  parish,' 
Allen's  was,  '  I  perceive  of  a  truth  that  God 
is  no  respecter  of  persons.'  The  sons  of 
Allen,  through  Bishop  Pane,  have  formulated 
the  sentiments  of  the  three  as  follows: 


'God,  our  Father;    Christ,    our  Redeemer, 
and  Man,  our  Brother.' " 

BISHOP  HENRY  McNEAL  TURNER, 
D.D.,  LL.D. 

One  of  the  most  influential  men  in  the 
United  States  was  born  near  Newberry 
Court-House,  South  Carolina,  February  i , 
1833.  Though  free  born,  owing  to  the 


REV.  RICHARD  ALLEN, 
First  Bishop  A.  M.  E.  Church. 

absence  of  a  father's  care,  he  was  deprived 
of  many  of  the  advantages  accorded  to  boys 
of  his  age.  He  was  bound  out  to  the  hard 
est  kind  of  labor  in  cotton  fields  and  at  the 
blacksmith's  trade  until  his  manhood. 

He  was  possessed  of  a  craving  for  knowl 
edge,  and  having  procured  an  old  spelling 
book,  an  old  white  lady  and  a  boy  with 
whom  he  played  taught  him  the  alphabet 
and  to  spell  as  far  as  two  syllables,  but  he 


30 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


got  no  farther  then  as  he  was  discovered  in 
the  act.  He  found  an  old  colored  man  who 
did  not  know  a  letter  but  was  a  prodigy  in 
sounds  and  could  pronounce  anything  spelled 
to  him.  This  helper  was  removed  to  another 
plantation  and  he  was  again  left  to  his  own 
resources.  His  mother  hired  a  white  lady  to 
give  him  lessons  every  Sabbath  but  the  neigh 
bors  were  so  indignant  that  they  threatened 
to  have  the  law  on  her,  as  it  was  then  against 
the  law  to  teach  a  Negro  the  alphabet. 


REV.  HENRY  MCNEIL  TURNER.  D.D.,  LL.D 

Bishop  A.  M.  E.  Church. 

Three  years  from  this  time,  at  the  age  of 
fifteen,  he  was  given  work  in  a  lawyer's 
office,  at  Abbeyville  Court  House.  The 
men  in  the  office  were  impressed  with  his 
excellent  memory  and  taught  him,  in 
defiance  of  the  law,  to  read  accurately  his 
tory,  theology,  and  even  works  on  law. 
He  continued  to  pursue  his  studies  alone, 
and  later  went  to  New  Orleans,  thence  to 
South  Carolina,  and  still  later  to  Baltimore 
where  he  had  charge  of  a  small  mission. 


Here  he  studied  grammar,  Latin,  Greek, 
Hebrew,  German  and  theology  under  emi 
nent  private  teachers. 

He  joined  the  M.  E.  Church,  South,  in 
1848,  while  but  a  boy  and  was  licensed 
to  preach  in  1853.  He  was  ordained 
deacon  in  1860,  ordained  elder  in  1862, 
and  was  ordained  Bishop  in  1880.  He 
received  the  title  of  LL.D.  from  the  Penn 
sylvania  University  in  1872,  and  the  de 
gree  of  D.D.  from  Wilberforce  University 
in  1873.  He  was  appointed  United 
States  Chaplain  by  President  Lincoln  in 
1863,  and  served  faithfully  through  the 
war. 

After  being  mustered  out,  he  was  re- 
commissioned  United  States  Chaplain  by 
President  Johnson,  but  gave  up  that  place 
to  work  for  the  church  and  the  race.  He 
travelled  and  preached,  building  up  schools 
and  churches  all  over  the  State.  He  was 
for  several  years  Bishop  of  the  A.  M.  E. 
r  Church.  He  has  held  many  political 
;;  positions  and  as  an  orator  has  reaped  an 
immense  harvest  of  favorable  comment 
and  hearty  praise.  He  was  married  to 
Miss  Eliza  Ann  Peacher  in  1856. 

His  oratorical  ability  is  wonderful.    He 
has  been  considered  by  many  one  of  the 
best,  if  not  the  very  best  orator  of  his 
class  in  the  United  States.     Certain  it  is 
that  he  is  forcible,  eloquent  and  impres 
sive,   and    has   a  pleasing  and    sympathetic 
address. 


BISHOP 


ALEXANDER 
D.D. 


WALTERS, 


Rev.  Alexander  Walters,  D.D.,  Bishop 
of  the  A.  M.  E.  Zion  Church,  was  born 
August  i,  1858,  at  Bardstown,  Ky.  At  anj 
early  age  he  manifested  deep  concern  about 
the  Bible  and  Spiritual  things,  and  was  often 
heard  to  say  :  "  I  am  going  to  preach." 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


31 


At  the  age  of  eight  years  a  proposition 
was  made  by  the  teacher  of  his  town,  Mr. 
Rowan  Wickliffe,  to  the  Trustee  Board  of 
the  A.  M.  E.  Zion  Church,  that  he  would 
teach,  free  of  charge,  any  boy  who  might  be 
chosen  by  them  to  be  educated  for  the  min 
istry.  Young  Walters  was  chosen. 

He  remained  in  school  four  years,  and  at 
twelve  years  of  age  joined  the  church.  For 
four  years  he  worked  in  hotels 
and  on  steamboats  at  Louisville. 
In  1876  he  moved  to  Indianapolis, 
Ind.,  and  began  the  study  of 
theology  under  private  tutors. 
In  1877  he  married  Miss  Kate 
Knox,  of  Indianapolis;  was  li-  . 
censed  to  preach  May,  1877; 
joined  the  Kentucky  Annual  Con 
ference  of  the  A.  M.  E.  Zion  con 
nection,  at  Indianapolis,  Septem 
ber,  1878,  and  was  sent  from  $§1 
that  conference  to  Croydon,  Ky. 

He  remained  in  this  appoint 
ment  for  two  years,  and  was 
ordained  a  deacon  at  St.  Louis 
in  1879,  and  was  appointed  to 
Cloverport,  Ky.,  in  1880,  where 
he  remained  one  year.  In  1881 
he  was  appointed  to  the  Fifteenth 
Street  Church,  Louisville. 

In  1882  he  was  elected  secre 
tary  of  his  conference  and  treas 
urer  of  Zion's  Banner.     In  1883 
he  was  transferred  to  Stockton  Street  A.  M. 
E.  Zion  Church,  San  Francisco,  Cal.     This 
church  is  the  largest  colored  church  in  the 
West;   in  three  years  he  was  successful  in 
raising    $15,000    to    liquidate   a    mortgage 
which   has  been   on  the   church   for    many 
years. 

'  In  1 886  he  was  transferred  to  Tennessee 
and  stationed  at  Chattanooga,  where  he 
began  a  revival  on  his  first  Sabbath  which 


resulted  in  175  conversions.  Sickness  pre 
vented  him  from  remaining  longer  than  one 
year  in  this  charge,  and  he  was  sent  from 
Chattanooga  to  Knoxville,  where  he  met 
with  the  usual  success  and  was  transferred  to 
New  York  City  in  1888. 

Bishop  Walters  has  been  a  member  of  the 
General  Conference  several  times,  and  held 
the  office  of  secretary  on  two  occasions. 


REV.  ALEXANDER  WALTERS,  D.D., 

Bishop  A.  M.  E.   Zion  Church. 

He  is  the  most  popular  and  successful  pastor 
who  has  ever  held  the  pulpit  of  the  A.  M.  E. 
Zion  Church.  Bishop  Walters,  when  chosen, 
was  the  youngest  member  of  the  Board  of 
Bishops. 

BISHOP  BENJAMIN  TUCKER  TAN- 
NER,  A.M.,  D.D. 

Without    doubt,    one    of    the    brightest, 
grandest,  noblest  men  in  the  ranks  of  Negro 


32 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


Methodism  is  Dr.  B.  T.  Tanner,  the  veteran 
journalist  of  the  colored  race.  His  fame  has 
extended  from  the  lakes  to  the  gulf,  and  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.  He  was  born  in 
Pennsylvania,  and  was  not  a  slave.  He  spent 
five  years  in  study  at  Avery  College,  Alle 
gheny  City,  Pennsylvania,  where  he  paid 
his  expenses  by  working  at  the  barber's 


REV.  BENJAMIN  TUCKER  TANNER, 

Bishop  A.  M.  E.  Church. 

chair.  At  this  time  his  father  was  dead, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  care  for  his  widowed 
mother. 

His  whole  nature  was  independent,  for  he 
might  have  smoothed  his  path ;  but  he  pre 
ferred  to  work  and  win.  Mr.  Avery,  the 
founder  of  Avery  College,  offered  to  pay  his 
expenses  at  the  college,  but  he  refused. 
The  feeling  of  independence  prevented  him. 


After  spending  one  year  at  Avery  College, 
he  took  a  three  years'  course  at  Western 
Theological  Seminary.     His  birthday  being 
December  25,  1835,  he  was  twenty-five  years 
of  age  when  he  received  his  first  appointment 
from  Bishop  D.  A.  Payne  to  the  Sacramento 
Station  in  the  California  Conference.    He  did 
not  fill  the  appointment  because  of  the  dis- , 
tance  and  expense,  and  I 
was    "supply"    for    the 
Presbyterian  Church    of 
Washington,  District  of 
Columbia,    for    eighteen 
months. 

April,  1862,  he  united 

/;>^;          \  with  the  Baltimore  An 

nual  Conference,  and  was 
appointed  to  the  Alex 
ander  Mission,  E  Street, 
Washington,  D.  C.  In 
1863  he  was  pastor  to 
the  Georgetown,  D.  C., 
Church,  and  in  1866  had 
charge  of  the  "big  Balti 
more,"  after  resigning 
which  charge  he  became 
principal  of  the  Annual 
Conference  School  at 
Frederickstown,  Md. 

His  addresses  showed 
thought,  learning  and 
rare  gifts;  so  that  when 
the  General  Conference 
met  in  the  Nation's  Capi 
tal  in  1868,  he  was  not  only  made  chief  sec 
retary,  but  editor  of  the  church  organ — The 
Christian  Recorder — by  acclamation,  and  this 
honored  position  was  thrust  upon  him  in 
succession  until  he  had  served  sixteen  years. 
In  1870  he  was  given  the  degree  of  A.M.  at 
;  Avery  College,  and  Wilberforce  University 
conferred  upon  him  the  degree  of  D.D. 
sometime  in  the  seventies. 


A.M.,  D.D., 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


In  1881  he  visited  England  and  Conti 
nental  Europe,  and  attended  the  Ecumenical 
Conference.  His  spare  time  was  spent  in 
writing  books  of  use  to  his  denomination, 
among  which  we  mention  "  The  Negro's 
Origin,"  "An  Apology  for  African  Meth 
odism,"  "The  Negro,  African  and  Ameri 
can,"  and  he  is  also  editor  of  the  A.  M.  E. 
Review  since  1884.  He  is  a  member  of  the 
New  England  Historical  Society  of  the  M.  E. 
Church,  and  fills  many  important  stations  in 
his  own  church. 

Dr.  Arnett  has  said  of  Dr.  Tanner :  "  He 
has  risen  from  a  successful  barber  to  be  the 
king  of  Negro  editors ;  his  pen  is  sharper  than 
his  razor,  and  his  editorial  chair  is  finer  than 
the  barber  chair.  The  church  and  race  will 
long  remember  Dr.  B.  T.  Tanner  for  the  part 
he  has  taken  in  the  reconstruction  of  the 
South  and  for  his  words  of  encouragement." 

BISHOP    BENJAMIN    F.    LEE,    A.  B., 
D.  D. 

This  remarkable  man  went  to  Wilberforce 
University  as  hostler,  and  was  not  allowed 
to  sleep  with  the  students;  and  in  thirteen 
years  became  president  of  the  University. 

Benjamin  F.  Lee  was  born  at  Gouldtown, 
New  Jersey,  September  18,  1841.  His 
father  died  when  he  was  ten  years  old,  and 
in  1852  he  began  the  battle  of  life  alone, 
and  since  then  has  never  spent  more  than 
six  months  together  at  the  old  homestead. 
He  spent  his  winters  in  country  schools 
until  he  was  fifteen  years  old,  and  from  that 
time  until  he  was  twenty-one  he  was  em 
ployed  on  farms  and  in  factories.  During 
this  time  he  studied  algebra  and  read  many 
biographical  and  historical  works. 

Being    ambitious    for    more    learning  he 

entered    Wilberforce    University    in     1864, 

*vhere  his  recitations  were  confined  to  night 

llasses  for  one  year,  during  which  time  he 

C 


supported  himself  by  working  hard  at  all 
jobs  he  could  secure  during  the  day.  In 
1865  he  entered  as  a  regular  student  and 
finished  in  1872,  taking  the  degree  of  A.  B. 
The  only  financial  aid  he  received  during  his 
school  life  was  about  $175.  He  often 
walked  four  to  eleven  miles  during  vacation 
to  do  a  day's  work  in  the  corn  field  or  at 
harvesting. 

After  becoming  sufficiently  advanced  he 
taught  school.     During   one  period  of  six 


REV.  BENJAMIN  F.  LEE,  A.B.,  D.D.. 

Bishop  A.  M.  E.   Church. 

months  he  taught  school,  worked  Saturdays 
and  at  odd  hours  to  pay  his  board,  and 
kept  up  with  his  class  at  the  college.  He 
joined  the  church  of  the  A.  M.  E.  faith  in 
1862,  and  in  1866  was  permitted  to  exhort. 
In  1868  he  was  licensed  to  preach,  in  1870 
was  made  deacon;  in  1872  he  was  ordained 
an  elder,  and  was  appointed  to  the  pastoral 
charge  of  the  Salem  circuit,  including  Salem, 
Ohio,  and  Bridgewater,  Pennsylvania. 

In  1873  he  was  called  from  the  charge  of 
Frankfort,  Kentucky,  to  which  he  had  been 


34 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


appointed  at  graduation,  to  occupy  the  chair 
of  pastoral  theology,  homeletics  and  eccle 
siastical  history  at  Wilberforce,  which  posi 
tion  had  been  made  vacant  by  the  resigna 
tion  of  Professor  T.  H.  Jackson.  He  re 
mained  here  two  years,  and  then  took  charge 
of  the  A.  M.  E.  Church  in  Toledo,  Ohio. 
In  1876  he  was  called  to  the  presidency 


REV.  JAMES  ANDERSON  HANDY,  D.D., 

Bishop  A.  M.   E.  Church. 

of  Wilberforce  College  by  the  resignation  of 
Bishop  Payne.  He  filled  this  office  for 
eight  years  and  exerted  a  far-reaching  influ 
ence  over  the  hundreds  of  young  men.  At 
the  expiration  of  eight  years  he  was  elected 
by  the  General  Conference  of  the  A.  M.  E. 
Church  editor  of  the  Christian  Recorder,  the 
official  organ  of  that  body.  He  has  filled 
many  positions  of  honor  and  trust  under  the 
A.  M.  E.  General  Convention. 


It  was  said  of  President  Garfield  that  he 
went  "from  the  towpath  to  the  White 
House,"  and  it  may  be  said  of  the  subject  of 
this  sketch  that  he  went  from  a  hostler's 
place  to  a  college  president's  chair,  where  he 
became  the  Nestor  of  all  active  Afro-Ameri 
can  Christian  educators,  distinguished  in 
position,  yet  conspicuous  in  modesty. 

BISHOP  JAMES  ANDERSON 
HANDY,    D.D. 

Rev.  James  A.  Handy  was  born 
in  Baltimore,  Md.,  December  22, 
1826.  Notwithstanding  all  the  dis 
advantages  he  labored  under,  he  was 
industrious,  honest  and  studious.  As 
he  advanced  in  years,  he  advanced 
also  in  knowledge  of  men  and  things. 
He  was  a  leader  in  the  societies  when 
a  young  man.  He  is  one  of  the 
leading  Masons  in  the  United  States. 
Some  years  after  his  marriage  he 
was  converted  and  joined  the  Bethel 
Church,  Baltimore.  In  1862  he  was 
recommended  to  the  Baltimore  An 
nual  Conference.  At  the  close  of  the 
conference  he  was  appointed  to  Ports 
mouth,  Va.  He  planted  the  A.  M.  E. 
Church  there,  and  established  day 
and  night  schools. 

In    1868    he   was    elected    corre 
sponding    secretary    of    the    Parent 
Home  and  Foreign  Missionary  So 
ciety.     In  1878  he  was  appointed  presiding 
elder    over    the    Baltimore    District,    which 
position    he    filled   acceptably    until    1883, 
when  he  was  appointed  pastor  of  the  Metro 
politan  Church,  Washington,  D.  C. 

In  1888  the  General  Conference  at  Indian 
apolis,  Ind.,  elected  him  financial  secretary. 
He  filled  the  office  so  well  that  at  Philadel 
phia,  May,  1892,  he  was  elected  Bishop  and 
ordained  in  the  same  month.  The  Metro- 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


35 


politan  Church  will  stand  as  a  lasting  monu 
ment  to  his  financial  ability  and  reputation 
as  a  business  man,  as  well  as  a  minister  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


slaves.  At  the  age  of  eighteen  John  was 
carried  by  his  owners  to  Baltimore  where  he 
served  as  under  clerk  in  several  dry  goods 
houses. 


METROPOLITAN  A.  M.  E.  CHURCH,  WASHINGTON,  D.  C. 


REV.  JOHN  T.  JENIFER. 

Rev.  John  Thomas  Jenifer  was  born  in 
Upper  Marlboro,  Prince  George  County,  Md., 
March  10,  1836,  in  the  Tyler  family.  His 
parents  John  H.  and  Catharine  Jenifer  were 


In  1859  he  went  to  Nev,  Bedford,  Mass., 
to  live  with  his  father  who,  in  1841,  went 
there  on  the  "  underground  railroad."  Here 
John  studied  two  years  with  a  purpose  of 
entering  mercantile  business,  but  being  moved 


REV.  J.  D.   CHAVIS,   A.M.,  B.D., 
President  Bennett  College,  Greensboro,  N.  C. 


PROF.  R.  R.   WRIGHT,  A.M., 
President  Georgia  State  Industrial  College. 


PROF.  A.  ST.  GEORGE  RICHARDSON,  B.A., 
Principal  Morris  Brown  College,  Atlanta,  Ga 


.  THOMAS  J.  CALLOWAY,  A.B., 
Pres't  Alcorn  A.  &  M.  College,  West  Side.  Miss 


38 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


Townsend  and  one  sister  are  the  only  sur 
vivors  of  the  family. 

After  an  eight  years'  residence  in  Law- 
venceburg,  Ind.,  they  removed  to  Oxford, 
Ohio.  James,  who  was  ten  years,  learned  his 
letters  and  could  spell  easy  words.  Oxford  was 
not  quite  so  antagonistic  to  Afro- Americans 
as  either  Gallipolis  or  Lawrenceburg.  In  it 
were  a  few  people  who  prized  worth  more 
than  appearances,  and  who  were  willing  to 
accord  equal  rights  to  all.  Dr.  Townsend 


REV.  J.  M.  TOWNSEND,  D.D. 

loves  Oxford  and  regards  it  as  his  old  home, 
and  the  scene  of  many  happy  days. 

The  second  or  third  winter  after  the  family 
removed  to  Oxford,  the  Rev.  John  Turner  was 
conducting  a  religious  revival  in  the  town, 
and  the  subject  of  our  sketch  felt  constrained 
to  give  his  heart  to  God,  and  to  become  a 
member  of  the  A.  M.  E.  Church.  His 
Bourse  as  a  member  of  the  church  was  so 
consistent,  his  piety  so  devoted  and  his  ability 
so  marked  that  he  was  licensed  as  a  minister 
when  only  about  eighteen  years  old.  At 
that  time  he  felt  he  had  a  call  from  the 


Master  to  go  forth  and  proclaim  the  Gospel 
to  the  dying  world. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1863,  in  response 
to  a  call  of  Gov.  Andrews  of  Massachusetts 
for  Afro-American  volunteers  to  form  the 
54th  Massachusetts  Infantry,  he  went  to 
Boston  and  enlisted  as  a  private  and  was 
shortly  made  corporal.  After  the  fight  at 
Olustee  he  was  detailed  hospital  steward,  in 
which  capacity  he  was  serving  when  the 
regiment  was  discharged  at  Port  Royal,  gen 
erally  called  Hiltonhead,  S.  C.  The  54th 
was  mustered  out  on  Boston  Common  early 
in  the  fall  of  1865,  and  the  subject  of  our 
sketch  returned  to  his  home  at  Oxford. 

Worked  his  Way  Through. 

H^  went  into  the  business  of  making 
brooms  but  that  was  not  a  success.  Then 
he  went  to  Oberlin  and  worked  his  way 
through  the  college.  After  receiving  his 
diploma  he  taught  school  at  Evansville,  Ind. 
Shortly  after  entering  upon  his  second  year 
as  teacher  he  went  to  Hamilton  and  mar 
ried  Miss  Cornelia  Settle,  who  proved  to  be 
both  a  companion  and  helpmate. 

At  the  Conference  of  the  A.  M.  E.  Church, 
held  in  1872,  he  was  ordained  a  deacon.  In 
the  following  June  he  was  ordained  an  elder 
and  assigned  to  Richmond,  Ind.  From  there 
for  the  next  two  years  he  was  assigned  to 
Terre  Haute.  He  next  went  to  Indianapolis 
but  was  shortly  elected  missionary  secretary 
of  the  church,  which  place  he  filled  for  nine 
years.  He  has  travelled  extensively  both  in 
this  and  other  countries. 

He  was  a  member  of  the  World's 
Ecumenical  Conference  in  London,  England, 
in  1 88 1,  and  was  one  of  the  commissioners 
of  the  Organic  Union  of  the  A.  M.  E. 
Church  and  the  B.  M.  E.  Church.  He  was 
the  secretary  for  thirteen  consecutive  ses 
sions  of  the  Indiana  Conference,  and  was  * 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


39 


delegate  three  times  to  the  General  Confer 
ence. 

In  1888  he  was  elected,  by  a  very  large 
majority,  as  a  member  of  the  State  Legisla 
ture  for  Wayne  County,  Ind.,  and  served  his 
•constituency  with  marked  fidelity  and  ability. 
He  made  such  a  decided  impression  on  the 
public  mind  that  in  May,  1889,  President 
Benjamin  Harrison  appointed  him  as  the 
recorder  of  the  general  land  office  at  Wash 
ington,  D.  C.  He  accepted  the  position  and 
-discharged  the  duties  so  well  as  to  be  com 
plimented  both  by  the  President  and  other 
leading  officials.  He  resigned  in  October, 
1891,  because  he  felt  that  a  higher  duty 
called  him  into  active  church  work. 

Success  in   Chicago. 

He  returned  to  Richmond,  Ind.,  and  took 
charge  of  Bethel  Church,  which  he  rebuilt, 
and  it  now  is  one  of  the  prettiest  and  most 
commodious  church  buildings  in  Richmond. 
After  the  building  was  completed,  furnished 
and  paid  for,  the  pastor  received  very  urgent 
calls  to  other  churches. 

The  most  urgent  of  these  came  from 
•Quinn  Chapel,  the  largest  and  finest  A.  M. 
E.  Church  in  Chicago.  Dr.  Townsend's  suc 
cess  in  Chicago  was  phenomenal.  During 
nine  months  of  his  pastorate  548  persons 
united  with  the  church.  The  beautiful 
church  edifice  was  completed  and  thousands 
of  dollars  were  paid  on  the  church  debt. 

If  his  life  is  spared,  the  near  future  will  see 
Dr.  Townsend  a  Bishop  of  the  A.  M.  E. 
Church,  not  because  of  a  mere  ambition  for 
power  and  place,  but  because  his  people 
know  he  is  fitted  for  the  high  position  and 
that  he  will  reflect  credit  upon  it.  But 
wherever  he  may  be  placed  he  will  always  be 
found  a  worker  for  humanity,  a  doer  of  deeds 
as  well  as  an  inspirer  to  good  actions,  thus  ex 
hibiting  to  others  the  highest  type  of  manhood. 


QUINN   CHAPEL,   CHICAGO. 

In  A.  D.,  1844,  there  lived  in  a  small  hut 
in  the  alley  near  State  street,  between  Lake 
and  Randolph  streets,  Chicago,  a  plain  but 
devout  Afro-American,  named  John  Day. 
A  few  Afro-Americans  used  to  congregate 
at  Day's  house  to  hold  prayer  meetings.. 
This  house  becoming  too  small,  the  meetings 
were  removed  to  the  house  of  Maria  Parker, 
who  lived  adjoining  Day's.  Maria  Parker 
had  a  daughter,  Mrs.  Anna  Fulton,  the  old 
est  member  of  Quinn  Chapel,  now  living. 


QUINN  CHAPEL,  CHICAGO, 

In  1845,  tne  prayer  meeting  assembly 
having  grown  to  the  proportions  of  a  relig 
ious  society,  they  moved  from  the  house  of 
Mother  Parker,  as  she  was  called,  into  the 
school  house  on  Madison  street,  a  few  doors 
from  State  street.  In  1846,  Madison  Patter 
son,  an  exhorter,  took  the  leadership  of  the 
society,  having  as  his  assistant  A.  T.  Hall,  a 
barber,  then  a  journeyman  in  the  shop  of  the 
well  known  Oliver  Henderson,  of  Chicago. 

Madison  Patterson  took  the  society  to  his 
house  on  State  street,  near  Van  Buren  street, 
where  class  and  prayer  meetings  were  held 


40 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


till  they  purchased  one  half  of  the  white 
Baptist  Church,  30x50  feet,  located  on  the 
corner  of  La  Salle  and  Washington  streets, 
which  they  hauled  on  to  a  lot  on  the  east 
side  of  Wells  street,  now  Fifth  avenue,  be 
tween  Jackson  and  Van  Buren  streets. 

In  1847,  Rev.  William  Paul  Quinn,  then 
Bishop  of  the  African  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  sent  the  Rev.  George  Johnson,  a 
missionary  from  the  New  York  Annual  Con 
ference,  who,  with  the  assistance  of  Philip 
Ward,  July  22,  1847,  organized  the  society 
under  the  discipline  of  the  African  M.  E. 
Church,  and  called  it  Quinn  Chapel.  There 
were  seven  members  who  formed  the  organi 
zation  as  follows  :  Rachel  Day,  John  Day, 
Adelia  Lucas,  Mary  Jane  Randall,  A.  T. 
Hall,  Maria  Moose  and  Edward  Gordon. 
Frank  Scrips  was  the  appointed  class  leader. 
Annie  Lewis,  Anna  Scrips,  Virginia  Camp 
bell  and  Virginia  Dixon  joined  immediately 
after  the  organization.  The  first  trustees 
were  William  Randall,  Edward  Gordon, 
Isaiah  Parker,  John  Day,  John  Rollins,  Wil 
liam  Lucas,  and  John  Farns worth. 

The   First   Class   Leader. 

The  Quinn  Chapel  Society  was  the  second 
Methodist  Church  in  Chicago.  At  that  date 
there  were  St.  Mary's  Cathedral  on  Madison 
street,  the  First  Presbyterian  Cathedral  on 
Washington  street,  and  the  First  Baptist 
Church  on  Wabash  avenue,  and  Thirty-first 
street. 

The  Rev.  A.  T.  Hall  was  the  first  class 
leader  of  the  Quinn  Chapel  Society,  and  was 
the  first  Afro-American  licensed  to  preach 
in  Chicago.  He  is  now  the  oldest  traveling 
minister  in  the  Iowa  Conference  of  the 
A.  M.  E.  Church. 

The  first  pastor,  September,  1847-1848, 
was  the  Rev.  Thomas  Farnsworth,  the  sec 
ond  1848-1850  was  the  Rev.  Aaron  Parker; 


the  third,  1850-185 1,  was  the  Rev.  Elisha 
Weaver.  Weaver  being  removed,  the  Rev 
A.  T.  Hall  filled  the  unexpired  term,  when 
he  became  the  fourth  pastor,  1851-1852, 
serving  two  years;  the  fifth  pastor,  1852- 
1854,  was  the  Rev.  J.  A.  Warren. 

Under  the  Rev.  Mr.  Warren's  administra 
tion  the  society  purchased  the  lot  on  the 
southwest  corner  of  Jackson  street  and 
Fourth  avenue,  now  Custom  House  Place, 
occupied  by  the  magnificent  Monadnock 
Building.  They  moved  from  the  Wells 
street  lot  to  this  location  in  1854,  where  they 
had  erected  a  new  house  which  was  dedi 
cated  and  paid  for  the  same  day.  The  trus 
tees  at  this  time  were  John  Lucas,  William 
Sparrow,  John  Collins,  Isaiah  Baker,  •  A.  T. 
Hall.  The  Rev.  Bird  Parker,  an  able 
preacher,  was  employed  to  travel  and  collect 
funds  to  pay  for  the  church  property. 

The   Successive   Pastors. 

The  sixth  pastor,  1854-1855,  was  the  Rev» 
William  Davis;  the  seventh  pastor,  1855- 
1857,  was  the  Rev.  Elisha  Webber;  the 
eighth  pastor,  1857-1858,  was  the  Rev.  M. 
M.  Clark;  the  ninth  pastor,  1858-1861,  M  as 
the  Rev.  Willis  R.  Revels ;  the  tenth  pastor, 
1861-1862,  was  the  Rev.  William  A.  Dove; 
the  eleventh  pastor,  1862-1864,  was  the 
Rev.  Charles  Birch;  the  twelfth  pastor,  1864- 
1866,  was  the  Rev.  A.  T.  Hall;  the  thir 
teenth  pastor,  1866-1868,  was  the  Rev.  Wil 
liam  C.  Trevan  ;  the  fourteenth  pastor,  1868- 
1869,  was  the  Rev.  Amos  Mclntosh  ;  the 
fifteenth  pastor,  1869-1870,  was  the  Rev. 
William  S.  Langford ;  the  sixteenth  pastor, 
1870-1871,  was  the  Rev.  William  C.  Trevan. 

On  October  9,  1871,  the  noted  Chicago- 
fire  destroyed  the  Quinn  Chapel  building  on 
Jackson  street  and  Fourth  avenue  (Custom 
House  Place),  when,  under  the  leadership  of 
Elder  William  C.  Trevan,  they  mortgaged 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


41 


the  lot  for  $1000  and  purchased  the  old 
Taylor  Building  on  Fourth  avenue  (Custom 
House  Place)  between  Taylor  and  Twelfth 
streets,  where  they  worshipped  until  the  fire 
of  July  15,  1873,  when  they  were  again 
burned  out. 

They  then  occupied  Union  Hall,  corner 
of  Clark  and  Monroe  streets,  remaining  there 
till  they  moved  into  an  old 
store  on  the  east  side  of 
Third  avenue  south  of  Van 
Buren  street.  Having  mort 
gaged  the  Fourth  avenue 
(Custom  House  Place)  and 
Jackson  street  lot,  they  were  J| 
compelled  to  sell  it.  With 
the  proceeds  they  purchased 
a  lot  on  Fourth  avenue 
(Custom  House  Place)  near 
Van  Buren  street. 

The  seventeenth  pastor, 
1871-1874,  was  the  Rev. 
G.  C.  Booth.  In  1876  the 
corner-stone  of  the  new 
brick  building  on  Fourth 
avenue  (Custom  House 
Place),  was  laid  during  the 
administration  of  the  eigh 
teenth  pastor,  1875-1876, 
the  Rev.  E.  C.  Joiner.  The 
building  committee  con 
sisted  of  H.  A.  Bartlett, 
M.  M.  Lucas,  C.  H.  Jack 
son  and  Rev.  E.  C.  Joiner, 
pastor.  The  nineteenth 


interests  were  such  as  to  render  the  building 
as  well  as  the  location  wholly  unsuitable  as 
a  place  of  worship  ;  hence  the  pastor,  Dr.  J. 
T.  Jenifer,  induced  his  congregation  to  sell 
the  Fourth  avenue  (Custom  House  Place), 
to  pay  off  the  debt,  $11,000,  and  purchase 
the  lot  75x192  feet  on  the  southeast  corner 
of  Twenty-fourth  street  and  Wabash  avenue. 


,     - 

-.   • 


BIG  BETHEL,  PHILADELPHIA, 


pastor,  1877-1880,  was  Rev.  G.  C.  Booth, 
second  term;  the  twentieth  pastor,  1880- 
1884,  was  the  Rev.  George  H.  Shaffer  ;  the 
twenty-first  pastor,  1884-1889,  was  the  Rev. 
T.  W.  Henderson  ;  the  twenty-second,  1889- 
1893,  Rev.  J.  T.  Jenifer. 

The  changes  on  Fourth  avenue  (Custom 
House  Place)  caused  by  business  and  other 


where  a  fine  church  edifice  75x1 12  has  been 
erected  of  Gothic  architecture,  costing  $45,- 
ooo,  with  additional  cost  of  completing,  about 
$10,000  more. 

The  building  is  a  stone  structure  with 
tower  on  the  corner,  and  in  style  and  struc 
ture  is  compatible  with  the  locality,  as  well 
as  growth  and  progress  of  the  congregation. 


42 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


.and  also  as  the  center  for  humane  and  Chris 
tian  work  among  the  Afro-American  people. 
The  Quinn  Chapel  congregation  is  among 
the  most  thrifty  and  intelligent  of  Chicago's 
Afro- American  citizens.  The  church  has  an 
excellent  Sunday  School  with  other  flourish 
ing  societies,  lyceum,  etc.  This  society  has 
had  fifty  years  of  eventful  history.  It  has 


REV.  HENRY  HIGHLAND   GARNETT, 

Late  U.  S.  Minister  to  Liberia. 

purchased  four  lots,  erected  four  buildings 
for  worship,  suffering  the  destruction  of  two 
church  building  by  fire,  removed  eight 
times,  and  under  the  Methodist  itinerant 
custom,  has  had  twenty -four  changes  of  pas 
tors,  some  of  them  being  scholarly  men  and 
able  preachers  and  divines.  Yet,  through 
.all  these  vicissitudes  they  have  kept  in  ad 


vance,  with  a  fast  hold  on  the  confidence  o! 
the  Afro-American  people  and  the  esteem  of 
the  best  citizens  of  Chicago. 

At  the  end  of  the  third  quarterly  confer 
ence,  Rev.  J.  T.  Jenifer,  who  had  so  earn 
estly  labored  with  the  congregation,  was 
called  to  the  Metropolitan  Church,  in  Wash 
ington,  D.  C.,  the  connectional  church,  by 
the  Bishops.  Rev.  G.  C. 
Booth,  a  former  pastor,  was 
appointed  to  fill  out  the  un- 
expired  term  or  last  quarter 
of  the  conference  year  of  1 893 
In  the  meantime  the  boards 
were  soliciting  the  services  of 
Rev.  J.  M.  Townsend,  then 
1  u  located  at  Richmond,  Ind., 

and  their  wishes  were  granted. 
After  Conference  in  1893,  he 
took  charge  of  the  church, 
and  although  everything  and 
everybody  seemed  to  be  at  a 
stand  still,  Dr. Townsend  went 
to  work.  Never  before  in  the 
history  of  Quinn  Chapel  were 
its  affairs  so  prosperous.  Dur 
ing  the  revival  that  started  on 
New  Year's  night,  more  than 
500  persons  joined  the  church, 
and,  in  spite  of  the  dull  times, 
during  the  last  third  of  the 
conference  year  the  trustees 
raised  over  $4000,  or  more 
than  they  formerly  raised  dur 
ing  a  year  of  prosperity.  This 
money  did  not  include  the  stewards'  collec 
tions  and  money  taken  in  for  charitable  pur 
poses. 

The  auditorium  of  the  church  which  was 
nothing  but  bare  walls  and  naked  floors  was 
converted  into  as  fine  a  church  as  any  in  the 
connection,  and  ranks  with  any  church  in  the 
city  of  Chicago,  without  regard  to  the  de- 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


43 


nomination.  The  great  pipe  organ  and  the 
sun  burners  add  a  great  deal  of  beauty  to 
the  place  and  the  sanctuary,  which  is  built  in 
the  shape  of  a  semi-circle,  is  very  beautiful, 
and  besides  this  the  pews  and  all  the  rest  of 
the  furniture  are  of  the  highest  order  of 
excellence.  On  the  whole  it  is  indescribable, 
and  for  a  person  to  appreciate  the  same  it 
must  be  seen.  A  great  victory  has  been 
.achieved  not  only  by  the  A.  M.  E.  connection, 
but  by  the  Afro- Americans  of  Chicago  in 
.general,  and  the  people  of  other  places 
will  join  in  the  triumphant  praise. 

REV.  HENRY  HIGHLAND 
GARNETT,  D.D. 

This  celebrated  preacher  and  states 
man  was  born  in  slavery  in  Kent 
County,  Md.,  December  23,  1815,  but 
his  father,  by  the  aid  of  Thomas  Gar- 
rett,  a  Quaker,  succeeded  in  bringing 
him  and  the  other  members  of  the 
family  to  freedom.  They  lived  for  a 
time  in  Bucks  County,  Pa.,  but  soon 
moved  to  New  York,  where  he  studied 
for  a  while  in  the  Mulberry  Street 
School. 

He  was  obliged  by  the  poverty  of 
his  farpily  to  work  as  cabin  boy,  and 
afterward  endeavored  to  gain  an  edu 
cation  ,  but  was  unsuccessful  until  he 
went  V>  the  Oneida  Institute  at  Whites- 
boro.  He  graduated  in  1839,  anc^»  as  ^ 
in  '$f  meantime  lost  his  family  through  the 
slave  hunters,  he  settled  in  Troy. 

He  studied  theology  diligently,  and  in 
1842  was  licensed  to  preach  and  became 
pastor  of  the  Liberty  Street  Church,  with 
Which  church  he  remained  for  ten  years, 
publishing  the  Clarion.  He  was  pastor  of 
the  Shiloh  Presbyterian  Church  of  New  York 
for  twenty-six  years,  and  only  resigned  this 
charge  to  go  to  Liberia  as  resident  minister. 


He  did  not  live  long  after  sailing,  but  he 
has  left  an  example  for  others  of  his  race 
that  should  be  followed.  He  was  an  elo 
quent  and  charming  speaker,  and,  although 
a  cripple  for  life,  this  only  seemed  to  add  to 
the  brilliancy  of  his  mind. 

REV.  RICHARD  DeBAPTIST,  D.D. 

This  well-known  clergyman  is  a  man  of 
mark,  of  whom  Fredricksburg,  Va.,  may 


REV.  RICHARD  DEBAPTIST,  D.D. 

well  be  proud.  He  was  born  November  1 1, 
1831,  and  received  a  fair  education  in  Vir 
ginia  under  the  guidance  of  his  father  and  in 
secret.  He  was  ordained  to  the  ministry  at 
Mount  Pleasant,  and  taught  public  school  for 
colored  youth  in  this  place  for  three  years. 
Here  he  first  exhibited  those  sterling  traits 
of  character  which  have  since  distinguished 
him  and  placed  him  in  the  front  rank. 

He  was  pastor  of  the  Baptist  Church  in 
Mount  Pleasant  for  four  years,  and  then  took 


44 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


the  pastorate  of  the  Olivet  Baptist  Church  of 
Chicago,  which  charge  he  held  from  1 863  to 
1882.  During  this  time  he  built  two  church 
edifices,  at  a  cost  of  $33,000,  and  brought 
into  membership  more  than  1700  persons. 

He  has  held  the  position  of  Corresponding 
Secretary  of  the  Wood  River  Association 
ever  since  his  election  in  1864,  and  was 
President  of  the  Baptist  Mission  four  years. 
He  has  been  editor  of  several  religious  and 


REV.  ALEXANDER  CRUMMEL,  D.D. 
secular  periodicals.  He  was  married  in 
1855  to  Miss  Georgiana  Brische  of  Cincin 
nati,  Ohio,  but  lost  her  November  2,  1872. 
He  was  married  again  in  1885  and  his  wife 
died  in  1886,  leaving  him  with  three  children. 

REV.  ALEXANDER   CRUMMEL, 
A.B.,  D.D. 

This     prominent    representative    of    the 
Protestant    Episcopal   Church  was  born    in 


New  York  City.  His  father  was  an  African 
prince  and  his  mother  was  a  free  woman.  At 
an  early  age  he  entered  the  Mulberry  Street 
School  in  New  York,  and  in  1831  attended 
a  school  which  had  been  founded  for  the 
purpose  of  giving  advantages  to  the  colored 
youth  for  the  study  of  the  classics. 

The  instructions  were  not  what  met  with 
the  approval  of  his  parents  and  he  was 
sent  to  Canaan,  N.  H.  Here  he  stayed 
but  a  few  months  when  he  was 
forced  to  leave  on  account  of  race 
troubles.  In  1836  he  entered  the 
Oneida  Institute  and  remained  three 
years. 

He  was  received  as  a  candidate 
for  holy  orders  in  1839  by  Rev. 
Peter  Williams,  and  was  admitted 
to  priestly  orders  by  Bishop  Lee  of 
Delaware.  Afterward  he  was  able 
to  enter  and  graduate  from  Queen's 
College,  Cambridge,  England,  and 
went  to  Africa,  where  he  achieved 
great  success  as  a  missionary.  In 
1862  he  published  a  valuable  col 
lection  of  addresses  which  are  fitting 
evidences  of  his  simple,  touching 
faith,  his  intense  personality,  and 
devoted  Christian  spirit. 

REV.  ALLEN    ALLENS 
WORTH,  A.M. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch  was 
born  of  slave  parents,  in  Louisville,  Ky,  April 
3,  1843.  He  evidenced  a  thirst  for  knowl 
edge  at  an  early  age.  When  the  Ely  Nor 
mal  School  was  established  in  Louisville,  he 
was  its  janitor  and  among  its  first  pupils. 

While  serving  as  a  missionary  in  Kentucky, 
he  was  appointed  by  President  Grover  Cleve 
land  to  the  chaplaincy  of  the  Twenty-fourth 
United  States  Infantry.  He  was  selected  by 
the  Republicans  as  an  elector  on  the  Garfield 


1.  PROF.  L,.  S.  CLARKE,  Athens,  Ga. 
2.  PRIN.  F.  G.  SMITH,  M.D.,Nashville,Tenn.     3.  PROF.  A.  W.  MCKINNEY,  A.M.,  Huntsville,  Ala. 

4.  PROF.  F.  G.  SNELSON,  A.B.,  Athens,  Ga. 
5.  DR.  R.  F.  BOYD,  A.M.,  M.D.,  Nashville,  Tenn.     6.  PROF.  W.  B.  MATHEWS,  Cartersville,  Ga. 

7.  REV.  PROF.  J.  A.  JONES,  Shelbyville,  Tenn. 
8.  PROF.  A.  TOLUVER,  Marrietta,  Ga.         9.  PROF.  W.  H.  SPENCER,  Columbus,  Ga. 


ft, 

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to 


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§ 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


45 


;and  Arthur  ticket.  Recognizing  his  success 
in  life,  and  appreciating  his  course  as  a  Chris 
tian  and  a  man  of  scholastic  habits,  the  Roger 
Williams  University  conferred  upon  him  the 
honorary  degree  of  Master  of  Arts. 
I  Mr.  Allensworth  furnishes  another  striking 
illustration  of  what  may  be  accomplished  by 
a  young  man  in  humble  life  who  has  the 
right  kind  of  stuff  in  him,  who  is  studious, 
reliable  and  determined  to  succeed.  In  every 
responsible  position  he  has  shown  himself  to 
be  master  of  the  situation,  and  has  gained 
the  confidence  and  respect  of  the  entire  com 
munity. 

REV.   PIERRE  LANDRY. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch,  who  stands 
first  among  the  colored  citizens  of  Ascension 
Parish,  Louisiana,  by  reason  of  his  abilities 
and  the  prominence  of  the  position  in  life 
they  have  given  him,  was  born  on  the  plant 
ation  of  the  late  Dr.  F.  Provost,  opposite 
Donaldsonville,  April  19,  1841,  and  was 
reared  by  Pierre  Damas  Bouziac  and  Zaides, 
his  wife,  free  people  of  color. 

The  boy  was  sent  to  a  school  on  the 
plantation,  conducted  by  Mrs.  Reno  for  the 
benefit  of  free  colored  children,  and  was  later 
taught  the  trade  of  confectioner  and  pastry 
•cook.  At  the  Provost  succession  sale,  May 
1 6,  1854,  young  Landry  was  offered  to  the 
highest  bidder,  and  became  the  property  of 
the  late  M.  S.  Bringier,  one  of  Ascension's 
wealthiest  sugar  planters,  the  purchase  price 
being  $1,665.  The  boy  was  at  once  installed 
as  chief  pastryman  of  the  Bringier  mansion, 
and  was  subsequently  appointed  superin 
tendent  of  the  yard  and  the  servants  charged 
with  its  care. 

Some  time  afterwards  he  formed  a  com 
mercial  partnership  with  the  chief  butler, 
Joseph  Burbridge,  and  they  conducted  a 
store  on  the  plantation,  dealing  in  such  arti 


cles  as  they  were  permitted  to  sell  to  the 
other  slaves.  The  latter  were  entitled  to 
one  pint  of  molasses  each  per  day,  and  were 
privileged  to  trade  at  the  store  to  the  extent 
of  this  allowance,  which,  by  an  arrangement 
with  the  overseer,  remained  in  the  sugar- 
house  subject  to  the  orders  of  the  firm. 

A  moss-press,  broom  factory  and  wood 
yard  were  also  established  in  connection  with 
the  store,  and  the  work  of  plantation  ditch 
ing  by  contract  carried  on,  the  principals 
dealing  with  the  overseer  and  sub-letting 
contracts  to  the  plantation  hands.  After  a 
prosperous  career  the  firm  of  "Joe  and 


RFV.  ALLEN  ALLENSWORTH,  A.M., 

Chaplain  United  States  Infantry. 

Caliste"  was  dissolved  by  mutual  consent  in 
1862. 

Young  Landry  early  developed  a  taste  for 
mechanics,  and  in  1860  obtained  his  release 
from  house  and  yard  duty  and  served 
apprenticeships  under  Mr.  Ursin  Boudreaux, 
head  carpenter  of  the  plantation,  and  Mr. 
James  Lear,  the  well-known  and  skillful 
engineer  and  machinist.  He  remained  on 
the  plantation  until  1866,  having  made  three 
futile  efforts  to  enter  the  army,  and  in  that 
year  moved  across  the  river  to  this  town, 
where  he  has  maintained  his  domicile  ever 
since. 


46 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


At  the  municipal  election  in  1868  he  was 
elected  mayor  of  the  town  and  commissioned 
by  General  Rousseau,  then  commanding  the 
Department  of  the  Gulf,  being  the  first 


ST.  PAUL'S  CHURCH,  SHREVEPQRT,  LA, 
colored  man  to  hold  such  a  position  in  this 
State.  He  served  out  his  term  of  one  year, 
and  was  subsequently  Justice  of  the  Peace, 
Town  Tax  Collector,  member  and  President 
of  the  Board  of  School  Directors  of  Ascen 


sion  Parish,  member  and  President  of  the 
Police  Jury  of  Ascension,  Postmaster  of 
Donaldsonville  four  years ;  was  selected  to- 
the  House  of  Representatives  in  1872;  to 
the  State  Senate  in  1874,  and  again  in 
1878;  to  the  Constitutional  Convention 
in  1879,  and  again  to  the  House  of 
Representatives  in  1880  and  1882. 

He  was  converted  in  1862  and  be 
came  a  member  of  the  Methodist  Epis 
copal  Church  under  the  pastorate  of 
Rev.  Thomas  Kennedy,  the  first  colored 
preacher  appointed  by  Bishop  Thomp 
son,  in  1866.  Mr.  Landry  was  one  of 
the  founders  of  the  St.  Peter  M.  E. 
Church,  of  Donaldsonville,  and  occu 
pied  every  one  of  its  offices  succes 
sively.  He  was  elected  a  lay  delegate 
from  the  Louisiana  Conference  to  the 
General  Conference  held  at  Brooklyn 
in  1872;  joined  the  travelling  connec 
tion  in  1878  and  received  an  appoint 
ment  from  Bishop  W.  L.  Harris,  serving 
three  successful  years  as  pastor  of  St. 
Peter. 

At  the  Annual  Session  of  the  Louisi 
ana  Conference  at  Shreveport  in  1881, 
he  was  appointed  Presiding  Elder  of 
the  Baton  Rouge  District  by  Bishop 
C.  D.  Foss,  served  the  limit  of  four 
years  in  that  position,  and  in  1885  was 
appointed  Presiding  Elder  of  the 
Shreveport  District  by  Bishop  W.  F. 
Mallalieu.  After  four  years  faithful  ser 
vice  in  that  capacity  he  was  appointed 
pastor  of  the  St.  Paul  Church  at  Shreve 
port,  and  in  two  years  completed  the 
building  of  that  edifice  and  rebuilt  the 
parsonage  at  a  total  expense  of  $7000, 
superintending  the  work  himself  and  turning 
over  at  the  expiration  of  his  term  one  of  the 
best  pieces  of  colored  church  property  in  the 
Louisiana  Conference. 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


47 


At  the  Annual  Conference  at  New  Orleans, 
January  14,  1891,  Mr.  Landry  was  appointed 
Presiding  Elder  of  the  South  New  Orleans 
District  by  Bishop  John  P.  Newman,  D.D., 
LL.D.,  and  was  continued  on  the  same 
mission  by  Bishop  Mallalieu,  D.D.,  at  the 
last  session  of  the  Louisiana  Conference  at 
New  Orleans,  January  13,  1892.  At  the 
same  session  he  was  elected  one  of  the 
three  ministerial  delegates  to  the  General 
Conference  which  met  at  Omaha,  May  I 
to  31,  1892. 

Rev.  Mr.  Landry  is  an  incorpoi-ator  and 
member  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  of  the 
New  Orleans  University,  one  of  the  lead 
ing  institutions  for  the  education  of  colored 
youths  in  this  country,  and  deservedly 
enjoys  the  confidence  and  esteem,  not  only 
of  the  people  of  his  own  race,  but  of  all 
classes,  wherever  he  is  known. 

Mr.  Landry  has  been  greatly  aided  in 
his  important  work  by  the  kind  counsel 
and  wise  efforts  of  the  two  noble  women 
who  have  been  united  to  him  in  marriage. 
His  family  is  a  remarkable  one,  not  merely 
in  size  but  in  other  ways.  In  complying 
with  our  request  to  furnish  some  facts  con 
nected  with  his  successful  career,  he  writes : 

"  I  am  the  father  of  sixteen  children — 
two  dead ;  was  twice  married,  first  to 
Miss  Amanda  Grigsby,  of  Ascension,  who 
died  December,  1883,  and  again  to  Miss 
Florence  A.  Simpkins,  of  Mansfield,  La., 
in  1886. 

"  By  the  grace  of  God,  I  have  beeii  aL.e 
to  give  a  liberal  education  to  my  children, 
and  am  still  doing  so.  Five  of  them  are 
married  and  are  prosperously  engaged  in 
educational  and  other  pursuits." 

REV.  AUGUSTUS    TOLTON. 

The  first  and  only  Afro-American  Catholic 
priest    was    born    April    i,    1854,    in    Rails 


County,  Mo.  His  father  died  at  a  hospital 
during  the  war,  and  when  Augustus  was 
seven  years  old  his  mother  with  two  other 
children  started  out  to  liberate  herself  and 


REV.  AUGUSTUS  TOLTON, 
First  Afro-American  Catholic  Priest. 

children.  She  travelled  on  foot  through 
many  dangers  until  she  reached  Quincy,  111. 
Here  Augustus  was  reared,  and  from  the 
age  of  seven  to  nineteen  he  worked  in  a 
tobacco  factory,  studying  all  his  spare  time. 


48 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


In  1872  his  health  failed,  and,  following  the 
advice  of  friends,  he  stopped  work  at  the 
factory  and  gave  his  time  to  study.  He 
attended  a  Catholic  school  for  a  time,  but 
race  troubles  drove  him  from  there  to  a  non- 
Catholic  institution. 

Father  McGirr,  hearing  of  it,  at  once 
opened  his  school  to  colored  children. 
Augustus  pursued-  his  studies,  with  the 
aid  of  Catholic  friends,  until,  through  the 


REV.  PRESTON  TAYLOR. 

influence  of  Father  Meichal  Reinhardt,  he 
secured  admission  to  the  Propaganda  Col 
lege,  Rome,  where  he  entered  the  priest 
hood.  Father  Tolton  is  a  man  of  sterling 
worth  and  a  scholar  of  rare  intelligence. 
He  has  met  with  many  difficulties,  but  has 
overcome  all  obstacles,  dignifying  every 
position  he  has  held  by  hi  manly  bearing, 
his  earnest  and  enthusiastic  spirit  and  con 
spicuous  abilities. 


REV.  PRESTON  TAYLOR, 

was  born  of  slave  parents  on  November  7, 
1 849,  at  Shreveport,  La.  He  was  taken  to 
Georgia  at  the  age  of  one  year.  He  served 
in  the  war  as  drummer  boy  and  afterwards 
learned  the  stonecutter's  trade,  but  was  una 
ble  to  secure  employment  on  account  of 
prejudice. 

He  worked  as  porter  on  a  railroad  train 
for  four  years,  and  was  so  well  liked  by  his 
employers  that  at  the  expiration 
of  that  time  he  was  given  a  pass 
for  an  extended  trip  which  he 
took  through  the  North.  Re 
turning  he  took  the  pastorate  of 
the  Christian  Church,  of  Mt.  Ster 
ling,  Ky.,  which  position  he  occu 
pied  for  fifteen  years. 

v  He  was  also  chosen  General 

Evangelist  of  the  United  States 
for  this  faith.  Mr.  Taylor  has 
written  for  many  periodicals  and 
is  an  influential  Mason  and  Odd 
Fellow,  holding  state  offices  in 
both  lodges.  His  headquarters 
are  at  Nashville,  Tenn.,  where  he 
has  the  pastoral  oversight  of  the 
Gay  Street  Church. 

Mr.  Taylor  is  an  enterprising 
business  man,  having  in  connec 
tion  with  his  sacred  calling  acted 
in  the  capacity  of  railroad  contrac 
tor,  understanding  fully  that  there 
is  nothing  derogatory  to  the  ministry  in  seculai* 
pursuits  if  carried  on  in  the  right  spirit,  while 
the  gains  thus  acquired  are  used  for  benevo 
lent  purposes.  For  rare  ability,  honest  dealing, 
kindly  spirit  and  everyday  usefulness,  he  is  s 
bright  example,  and  does  credit  to  his  race 

REV.  EMPEROR  WILLIAMS. 

Rev.  Emperor  Williams  was  born  a  slave 
in    1826,  in  the  family  of   General   Gaines, 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


49 


Nashville,  Term.     He  went  to  Louisiana  in 

1839,  and  was  sold  to  a  Negro  for  $600,  in 

1840,  who  treated  him  badly.     He  was  sold 
in    1841    to    James    Macintosh,    a    builder. 
Williams  was  a  master  mason,  and  from  1846 
to  1858  was  the  trusted  foreman  of  his  owner. 
He  joined  the  church  in  1845,  and  had  been 
promised    his    freedom  for  years  and   that 
boon  came  in  1858   under  peculiar  circum 
stances.     His  master  had  a  difficult  piece  of 
cornice  work  and  none   of   the  white  men 
could  put  it  up.     Williams  said  he  could, 
and  his  master   replied  that  if  he  did  he 
should    have    his  freedom.     He  took    the 
plans  of  the  difficult  piece  of  work  and  laid 
them  on  the  floor  of  his  cabin  and  studied 
them  all  night,  until  he  got  every  part  per 
fectly  in  his  mind  and  the  next  day  took 
his  gang  of  men  and  accomplished  his  diffi 
cult  task.     The  promise  was  redeemed  and 
our  friend  was  a  free  man.      In   1849   he 
married  a  slave  woman,  who  was,  like  him 
self,  a  remarkable  character.     After  he  was 
free  .he  offered  $2000  in  gold  for  his  wife 
buc  her  owners  would  not  sell  her.     Not 
long    after,    in    1862,    Butler    took     New 
Orleans,  and  Emperor  Williams  got  his  wife 
for  nothing,  and  took  his  money  and  bought 
.a  home. 

He  had  Learned  to  Write. 

While  a  slave  Williams   sometimes  car 
ried  a  pass  written  by  himself,  which  was  as 
follows : 

"Permit  the  boy,   Emperor,  to  pass  and 
repass,  and  oblige,  Mr.  WILLIAMS." 

His  master,   whose   name  was   Williams, 
saw  it  and  the  following  colloquy  took  place : 

"  Where  did  you  learn  to  write  like  that  ?  " 

"While  I  was  collecting  your  rent,  sir." 

"My  name  is  that." 

"No,  sir;  that  is  not  your  name,  but  mine. 
I  would  not  commit  a  forgery." 
D 


His  master  gave  him  a  seventy-five  dollai 
suit  of  clothes  and  a  nice  cane,  and  said: 
"  Go  and  preach  until  you  die  ;  I  am  tired  of 
you  and  your  God  bothering  me  any  more." 

Afterwards,  when  dying,  he  sent  for 
Williams  and  told  him  that  slavery  was 
wrong  and  bade  him  good-bye. 

In  1866  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church 
was  organized  in  New  Orleans,  and  Emperor 
Williams  was  one  of  the  original  twelve.  A 
large  portion  of  his  time  he  has  been  presid- 


REV.  EMPEROR  WILLIAMS. 

ing  elder.     He  was  a  member  of  the  Gen 
eral  Conference  in  1 866. 

He  is  a  man  of  great  natural  ability, 
thoroughly  trustworthy  and  impartial  in  his 
judgment  of  men  and  measures.  When 
ground  was  broken  for  the  new  university 
building,  on  St.  Charles  avenue,  in  New 
Orleans,  he  was  one  of  the  speakers.  He 
is  not  a  fluent  speaker,  except  occasionally  in 
times  of  great  enthusiasm,  and  when  deeply 
moved  the  few  words  he  utters  make  a  pro- 


50 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


found  impression.  Here  are  some  of  his 
sentences  on  that  memorable  occasion.  Lift 
ing  his  hands  to  the  heavens  he  said  : 

"  I  wonder  if  this  is  the  world  I  was  born 
in.  For  twenty  years  I  was  a  slave  on  these 
streets.  It  was  a  penitentiary  offence  to 
educate  a  Negro.  I  have  seen  my  fellow  ser 
vants  whipped  for  trying  to  learn,  but  to 
day,  here  I  am  on  this  the  greatest  avenue 
in  this  -great  city,  with  the  Bishops  and  the 
elders  and  people  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 


MISSION  CHURCH,  CHARLESTON,  S.  C. 

Church,  speaking  at  the  breaking  of  ground, 
where  a  building  is  to  be  erected  for  the 
education  of  the  children  of  my  people.  I 
wonder  if  this  is  the  world  I  was  born  in." 

REV.  WILLIAM   D.  JOHNSON,   D.D., 

Secretary  Board  of  Education. 

William  Decker  Johnson  was  born  March 
19,  1842,  in  Calvert  County,  Md.,  and  at  an 
early  age  removed  with  his  parents  to  Balti 
more,  where  he  attended  private  schools. 


He  was  converted  in  1861,  and  the  same 
year,  by  Bishop  A.  W.  Wayman,  received 
license  to  exhort.  In  1862  he  entered  Lin 
coln  University,  Pennsylvania,  graduating  as; 
valedictorian  in  1868.  He  was  the  favorite 
student  of  the  Hon.  William  E.  Dodge,  of 
New  York,  who  educated  hundreds  of. 
young  people  for  Christian  work. 

Dr.  Johnson  had  been  for  sixteen  years 
pastor  of  various  churches,  when  in  1884 
the  General  Conference  at  Baltimore  elected' 
him  secretary  of  education.  He  at  once 
organized  the  department,  and  has  been 
twice  re-elected  to  the  position  for  terms  of 
four  years.  Bishop  Atticus  G.  Haygood,. 
D.D.,  LL.D.,  speaking  of  his  management^ 
says:  "More  than  most  men,  he  grasps  a 
great  problem.  His  plans  are  great,  but  not 
chimerical.  His  methods  look  to  the  long 
run,  and,  with  God's  favor,  will  issue  in> 
blessings  to  the  whole  people."  Mr.  Nor 
man  W.  Dodge,  son  of  the  Hon.  William 
E.  Dodge,  says  :  "  Rev.  William  D.  John 
son  has  been  well  known  and  much  esteemed 
by  our  family  for  years.  My  father  took  a 
particular  interest  in  him,  and  helped  him  in 
his  good  work  at  different  times," 

A  Born  Orator. 

Mr.  Johnson  has  many  such  recommend^- 
tions,  which  have  been  of  great  service  in  the 
educational  work. 

While  at  college  he  developed  consider 
able  power  as  a  speaker,  and  has  ever  since 
continued  on  the  same  line.  The  Nashville- 
American,  August  2,  1884,  speaking  of  him, 
says  :  "He  is  a  born  orator,  and  a  man  of; 
superior  literary  attainments." 

He  has  spoken  with  acceptance  in  the- 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  halls  in  Philadelphia  and  New 
York,  in  the  Sam  Jones  Tabernacle  at 
Cartersville,  Ga. ;  Dr.  Talmage's  Tabernacle, 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  ;  before  the  Unitarian 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


National  Conference  at  Saratoga,  N.  Y.,  and 
the  Centennial  Conference  of  Methodism  at 
Baltimore,  Md.  His  greatest  effort  was 
made  when  a  delegate  from  his  church  to 
the  General  Conference  of  ,__»_«. 

the  M.  E.  Church  South, 
sitting  in  Atlanta,  Ga. 
That  address,  bearing  on 
the  race  problem,  was 
copied  into  all  the  news 
papers  and  translated  into 
several  foreign  languages. 
Mr.  Johnson  has  at  dif 
ferent  times  represented  his 
work  in  the  National  Edu 
cational  Association  and  the 
American  Association  of 
Educators  of  Colored 
Youth.  During  the  World's 
Fair  he  read  papers  before 
the  religious  and  educa 
tional  congresses,  and  also 
delivered  an  address  in  the 
Hall  of  Columbus,  Art  Pal 
ace,  Chicago,  on  the  Negro 
Element  of  the  American 
People. 

REV.  D.  A.  GRAHAM. 

This  noted  divine  was 
born  in  Princeton,  Ind., 
January  11,  1861.  His 
father  was  born  a  slave  in 
Tennessee,  but  came  to 
Indiana  and  settled  in  the 
early  days  of  that  State, 
where  he  became  one  of 
the  most  influential  Afro- 
Americans  in  that  vicinity. 

Young  Graham  was  the  first  Afro-Ameri 
can  youth  graduated  in  the  town  of  his 
Nativity.  He  first  followed  teaching  for  six 


ington,  Ind.,  in  the  last  two  places  attending 
to  the  pastoral  work  of  the  church  while 
serving  as  principal  of  the  school. 

In    1882    he   united  with  the  Indiana  A. 


ST.  PAUL'S  CHURCH,  COLUMBUS,  O. 

M.  E.  Conference  at  New  Albany,  Ind., 
under  Bishop  James  A.  Shorter.  After 
serving  four  years  in  the  pastorate  in 


Indiana  he  was  sent  to   Michigan  by  Bishop 
years  in  Princeton,  Washington  and  Bloom-     Campbell,  and  was  one  of  the  charter  mem> 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


foer^of  the  Michigan  Conference.  His  four 
years  in  that  State  were  a  brilliant  success, 
and  it  is  the  common  verdict  that  he  was  the 


REV.  D.  A.  GRAHAM. 

most  popular  Afro-American  preacher  ever 
located  in  Michigan.  The  famous  temper 
ance  lecturer,  Mrs.  Lucy  Thurman,  several 
times  stated  this  fact  publicly,  during  her 


BETHEL  CHURCH,  CHICAGO. 
work  in   Chicago.      He  was  alike  popular 
with  white  and  colored,  on  fhe  platform,  as 
well  as  in  the  pulpit. 


From  Michigan  he  was  transferred  by 
Bishop  Brown  to  Minneapolis,  and  stationed 
at  St.  Peter's.  The  minutes  of  the  Michigan 
Conference  describe  his  departure  from  that 
body  in  Saginaw  as  being  like  a  funeral,  so 
dearly  was  he  beloved  by  the  entire  con 
ference. 

When  Bishop  Wayman  was  looking  lor  a 
pastor  for  Bethel  Church,  Chicago,  he  con 
cluded  that  Elder  Graham  could  fill  the  bill. 
His  appointment  was  a  great  surprise  to 


REV.  M.  C. 


MASON. 


every  one,  and  especially  to  himself.  So 
young  a  man  had  never  pastored  Bethel,  nor 
any  of  the  churches  of  equal  rank  in  the 
connection.  But  his  success  has  been  almost 
phenomenal,  both  spiritually  and  financially, 
and  Bethel  has  never  had  a  pastor  whose 
influence  was  so  potent,  nor  of  whom  she 
was  so  proud. 

REV.  M.  C.  B.  MASON,  A.M.,  B.D. 

Rev.  M.  C.  B.  Mason,  A.M.,  B.D.,  Field 
Agent  Freedmen's  Aid  and  Southern  Educa- 


REV.  WILLIAM.  E.  HOLMES,  A.  M., 
Atlanta  Baptist  Seminary. 


READING  ROOM. 


HELPING  OUR  STUDENTS  TO  HELP  THEMSELVES, 
ATLANTA  BAPTIST  SEMINARY. 


LIBRARY. 


GROUP  OF  COLLEGE  STUDENTS,  ATLANTA  BAPTIST  SEMINARY. 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


53 


tion  Society,  was  born  a  slave  in  Louisiana. 
As  soon  as  an  opportunity  offered  he  began 
to  study.  He  took  the  full  classical  course 
in  the  New  Orleans  University,  and  the  theo 
logical  course  at  Gamon  Theological  Semin 
ary,  Atlanta,  Ga.  He  is  a  forcible  speaker 
and  is  doing  good  work  for  the  society. 
Such  men  indicate  the  possibilities  of  the 
race.  Tens  of  thousands  who  will  die  in 
obscurity  would  have"  done  equally  well  if 
they  could  have  had  the  advantages  of  an 
education. 

REV.  JULIAN  FRANKLIN   MAR 
SHALL. 

The  Baton  Rouge  District,  Louisiana,  has 
made  a  splendid  record,  due  mainly  to  the 
energy  and  intelligent  work  of  its  able  and 
painstaking  presiding  elder.  Mr.  Marshall 
was  born  in  Virginia  in  1 847,  but  has  lived 
since  his  second  year  in  Louisiana.  He  was 
blessed  with  a  pious  praying  mother  whose 
religious  instructions  have  been  a  constant 
stimulant  to  him  all  through  his  life.  He 
has  always  been  studious,  a  lover  of  good 
books  and  blessed  with  a  splendid  memory ; 
he  has  performed  a  prodigious  amount  of 
literary  work.  Indeed,  he  may  be  reckoned 
among  the  ablest  ministers  of  the  church. 

From  1877,  the  year  in  which  he  was 
admitted  into  the  Louisiana  Conference,  he 
has  ably  and  successfully  filled  some  of  the 
most  important  appointments  within  its 
bounds — Alexandria,  Shreveport,  New  Or 
leans  ;  and  in  the  office  of  presiding  elder 
since  1886  he  has  rendered  excellent  ser 
vice.  He  was  a  delegate  to  the  General 
Conference  of  1888,  and  was  chosen  by 
Bishop-Elect  J.  P.  Newman,  D.D.,  to  repre 
sent  the  General  Conference  in  the  services 
of  his  consecration.  In  all  the  positions  he 
has  filled  he  has  rendered  excellent  service, 
and  has  been  highly  esteemed. 


REV.  B.  A.  J.  NIXON,  B.D. 

The  following  in  brief  are  the  positions  that 
have  been  held  by  this  well-known  preacher 
and  educator :  Twenty  years  teacher  in 
Tennessee ;  President,  Turner  High  School, 
Shelbyville,  Tenn. ;  Trustee,  Turner  High 
School ;  Trustee,  Wilberforce  University, 
Wilberforce,  Ohio ;  Member,  General  Educa 
tional  Board,  A.  M.  E.  Connection  ;  Presi 
ding  Elder,  Columbia  A.  M.  E.  District,. 
Nashville,  Tenn. 

He  is  a  man  of  fine  presence  and  varied 


REV.  B.  A.  J.  NIXON,  B.D. 

gifts.  Zealous,  devoted  and  thoroughly 
educated,  he  has  exerted  a  wide  influence 
and  in  a  marked  degree  commands  the  re 
spect  of  all  associated  with  him. 

ST.   PAUL'S  A.   M.    CHURCH 

Raleigh,  N.    C. 

This  edifice  cost  $32,000.  The  corner 
stone  was  laid  June  24,  1884.  The  dimen 
sions  are  65  by  97  feet,  with  chapel  on  west 
side.  The  chapel,  40  by  65  feet,  contains 
Sabbath-school  and  class-rooms,  all  under 
slate  roof.  The  chapel  is  a  part  of  the  main 


54 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    IL^QSl rLATED. 


building,  and  can  be  used  in  times   of  large 
.congregations. 

This     large    and     commodious     building 
reflects  great  credit   upon   the  congregation, 


MT.  ZION  A.  M.  E.  CHURCH,  JACKSONVILLE,  FLA. 
being  one  of  the  most  attractive  church  edi 
fices  in  the  city.     It  is  admired  for  its  con 
venient  arrangements  which  afford  the  best 
facilities  for  carrying  on  its  work. 


REV.  JOHN  JASPER. 

The  theory  that  the  sun  moves  has  been 
advanced  by  many,  but  the  theory  of  Mr. 
Jasper  differs  from  that  of  nearly  every  other 
by  being  advanced  as  a  Bible  argument. 
Rev.  John  Jasper  was  the  youngest  of 
twenty-four  children,  and  was  born  on 
the  Fourth  of  July,  1812,  in  the  County 
of  Fluvanna,  Va.  He  began  his  career  as 
cart  boy,  but  was  soon  made  house  boy, 
and  further  dignified  by  the  promotion 
to  table  waiter,  tending  garden  in  his 
spare  time.  He  hired  himself  out  to  work 
by  the  year  and  continued  in  this  kind 
of  service  for  several  years. 

He  was  always  of  an  astronomical 
turn  of  mind,  and  if  he  had  had  the 
advantage  of  education,  would,  doubt 
less,  have  made  one  of  the  foremost 
scientists  of  the  times.  He  was  con 
verted  in  1839,  and  began  preaching. 
He  was  very  successful  and  was  very 
impressive,  especially  in  funeral  sermons, 
and  was  in  great  demand  at  the  time. 
He  has  been  married  three  times.  He 
was  called  to  preach  in  the  Third  Baptist 
Church  in  Petersburg  in  1874.  His  life 
has  been  full  of  arduous  work,  and  from 
his  position  as  a  slave  he  has  risen  to 
considerable  wealth. 

His  theory  with  regard  to  the  move 
ment  of  the  sun  is  unique,  and  he  ad 
vances  some  very  good  arguments  in 
favor  of  it.  He  has  travelled  through 
the  North  lecturing,  and  has  visited  most 
of  the  leading  cities  in  the  Union.  He 
is  very  earnest  and  a  man  of  sound  judg 
ment  and  good  hard  sense. 

Mr.  Jasper  affords  a  striking  illustra- 
tration  of  what  can  be  accomplished  by 
steady  industry  and  perseverance.  From 


the  humblest  surroundings  in  early  life  he 
has  risen  to  a  position  of  influence. 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


REV.    EDWARD   W.    S.    HAMMOND, 
D.D. 

Rev.  Edward  W.  S.  Hammond,  D.D., 
editor  of  the  Southwestern  Christian  Advo 
cate,  is  ?  member  of  the  Lexington  Con 
ference,  and  was  born  in  Baltimore,  Md., 
February  14,  1842.  He  is  the  son  of 
Christian  parents,  who  had  formerly  been 
slaves. 

He  was  converted  at  an  early  age,  and 
attendee,   the  schools  taught  in  his 
native  city  for  the  benefit  of  free  col 
ored  people.  Through  the  munificence 
of  the  late  Hon.  William  E.  Dodge,  of 
New  York,  he  was  enrolled  as  a  stu. 
dent    of    Lincoln    University    (neat 
Oxford,  Pa.)  in  1864,  where  he  pur 
sued    a    collegiate    and    theological 
course  until  1867.     In  1872  he  was 
admitted  into  the  Washington  Con 
ference,    and    appointed     to    Union 
Chapel,    Cincinnati,   Ohio,  where    he    \'1j 
had  marked  success.     He  afterward   I 
filled    the    following    appointments :    \ 
Paris,   Ky.,  1874-76;    Hardinsburg, 
Ky.,     1876-78;       Lexington,     Ky., 
1878-80;     Presiding    Elder    of    the 
Indiana  District,  1881-84;    Coving- 
ton,  Ky.,  1884-86;   Presiding  Elder 
of  the  Ohio  District,  1887-92. 

He  was  elected  reserve  delegate  to 
the  General  Conference  of  1876,  and 
•delegate  in  1880,  when  he  made  a 
•speech  in  favor  of  the  election  of  a  colored 
Bishop  which  attracted  general  attention. 
He  was  elected  reserve  delegate  to  the 
General  Conference  of  1884,  and  a  delegate 
to  that  of  1888  and  that  of  1892,  from  which 
•body  he  was  elected  editor  of  the  South- 
•western  Christian  Advocate.  He  received  the 
[honorary  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
New  Orleans  University  in  May,  1888. 

He  has  written  extensively  for  the  religious 


and  secular  press,  and  has  been  generally 
successful  in  the  several  positions  to  which 
he  has  been  called. 

The  foregoing  examples  of  successful  Afro- 
Americans  speak  for  themselves.  Says  the 
Hon.  Frederick  Douglass:  When  we  con 
sider  that,  during  two  centuries,  the  colored 
people  of  this  country  were  doomed  to  igno 
rance  and  illiteracy,  the  record  presented 
seems  almost  incredible.  No  one,  fifty  years 


REV.  JOHN  JASPER. 

ago,  could  have  imagined  the  possibility  of 
such  intellectual  energy  and  activity  among 
them. 

The  eager  and  persistent  efforts  of  these 
people  to  avail  themselves  of  the  power  of 
education  is  a  matter  of  amazement.  The 
gates  of  knowledge  were  scarcely  ajar  when 
in  they  rushed  pell  mell,  almost  trampling 
upon  one  another  in  the  race  to  reach  its 
most  exalted  benefits. 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


AFRO=AMERICAN  COLLEGES  AND  INDUSTRIAL 

SCHOOLS. 


WHAT  our  people  can  accom 
plish  by  education  has  been 
shown  during  the  last  genera 
tion.  There  is  an  old  saying 
that  "what  has  been  done  can  be  done 
again."  A  large  number  of  our  race  have 
proved  their  ability  to  master  not  only  the 
ordinary  branches  of  learning,  but  also  to 
meet  the  demands  of  the  "higher  education." 
This  is  an  undeniable  fact,  and  is  valuable  as 
showing  that  the  colored  man  can  be  taught 
and  trained  for  all  professions  and  pursuits. 

He  has  that  inquiring  mind,  which  is  one 
of  the  first  essentials  for  obtaining  knowledge. 
He  has  a  praiseworthy  curiosity  for  prying 
into  what  he  does  not  know  already.  He  is 
eager  to  learn.  Wherever  and  whenever 
educational  advantages  have  been  placed 
within  his  reach,  he  has  made  diligent  use  of 
them.  Common  schools  and  higher  institu 
tions  of  learning  have  only  to  be  thrown 
open  to  him  and  he  will  walk  in,  proud  of 
his  new  and  grand  opportunities  and  ambi 
tious  to  succeed. 

His  mind  and  heart  are  stirred  by  the  new 
era  that  has  dawned  upon  him,  his  look  is 
upward,  and  he  begins  to  understand  that 
the  noblest  manhood  and  the  highest  posi 
tions  of  citizenship,  wealth  and  social 
influence,  can  be  gained  only  by  self-culture 
and  education. 

What  is  thought  upon  this  subject  by  one 
of  the  leading  Afro-American  educators 
may  be  learned  from  the  following  article  by 
Principal  F.  G.  Snelson,  of  the  Public  School, 
Cartersville,  Ga.  The  article  is  entitled, 
"What  Ground,  in  what  Studies  should  be 
Covered  by  a  Grammar  School  Course?" 
and  is  taken  from  the  columns  of  the  Negro 
Educational  Journal.  Principal  Snelson  is  a 


representative  man  of  our  race,  and  this 
renders  his  views  upo.i  the  importance  of 
primary  education  of  special  interest. 

Mr.  Snelson  says  :  The  importance  of  a 
thorough  and  comprehensive  Grammar 
School  course  is  becoming  more  and  more 
apparent  every  year.  In  the  Higher  Insti 
tutions  of  learning,  in  Trade  Schools  and 
Business  Universities  pupils  who  have  made 
a  thorough  mastery  of  the  fundamentals  of 
the  Grammar  School  course  seldom  fail  of 
marked  success  in  the  completion  of  their 
courses  of  studies  and  in  their  business 
careers.  Every  working  man  needs  to  know 
far  more  than  the  trade  he  has  learned.  If  he 
has  not  a  brain  educated  to  think,  he  will 
surely  be  outwitted  by  the  superior  intelli 
gence  of  contractors.  "  Hand-skill  is  essen 
tial  but  hands  must  be  moved  by  a  thinking 
head,"  says  one  very  wisely.  The  Ground 
to  be  covered  demands  : 

In  the  Form  of  a  Story. 

Thorough  preparation — the  bringing  to 
gether  all  the  helps,  materials  and  incentives 
necessary  to  incite  the  acute  interest  of  the 
teacher  and  prepare  him  for  the  lesson.  The 
pupil  himself  must  be  prepared  also ;  his 
interest  fully  awakened  and  his  expecta 
tions  of  receiving  some  good  covetously- 
aroused. 

The  Ground  to  be  covered  requires  the 
powers  of  admirable  presentation.  The 
German  idea  is  that  the  teacher  shall  relate 
the  lesson  in  the  form  of  a  story — thus  hold 
ing  out  the  idea  of  a  far  higher  grade  of 
teaching  force  and  showing  the  demands  for 
better  Normal  training. 

The  Ground  to  be  covered  will  suggest 
the  clearest  association  of  those  notions  and 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


57 


ideas  that  have  a  resemblance,  brought 
together,  compared,  and  absorbed  and  truly 
assimilated  from  the  broad  and  enchanting 
field  of  knowledge. 

Stoy's  watchword,  "Repetition,  repeti 
tion,  eternal  repetition,"  will  strengthen 
immensely  in  one  harmonious  whole  and 
into  the  conscious  possession  of  full  knowl- 


has  been  learned.  The  recent  scientific 
term  is  apperception,  by  which  is  meant  the 
intellectual  appropriation  of  all  the  informa 
tion  acquired.  Its  products  may  be  called 
habits  of  body  and  habits  of  thought,  or  the 
true  discipline  of  the  head,  heart  and  hand. 
It  may  be  called  culture,  produced  by  ideas 
internally  assimilated  like  food  eaten,  digested 


JUBILEE  HALL,  FISK  UNIVERSITY,  NASHVILLE,  TENN. 


edge,  the  memory  and  logical  powers  of 
the  pupil.  It  will  give  completeness,  it  will 
unite  the  old  and  the  new,  it  will  organize 
disconnected  materials  into  a  system  and 

turn  the  mental  possessions  into  elements  of 

i 

power. 

The  Ground    to  be  covered  should  ever 
keep  in  view  the  familiar  application  of  what 


and  wrought  into  blood,  bone  and  sinew  of 
perfect  usefulness. 

Our  Grammar  School  course  demands  the 
greatest  attention,  because  the  vast  majority 
of  our  school  population  will  never  reach 
beyond  its  narrow  confines.  It  is  the 
chosen  few  who  enter  the  colleges ;  it  is 
the  select  alone  that  ever  are  blessed  with 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


the  advantages  of  trade  and  professional 
education.  Therefore  the  potent  elements 
of  the  successful  lives  of  the  great  army  of 
our  youth  must  be  forcefully  impressed  by 
the  grammar  school  teacher. 

As  regards  the  number  of  studies  used, 
our  working  watchword  should  be,  Non 
multa  sed  multum,  not  a  superfluity,  but  an 
appropriate  selection  and  excellence  of  text 
books.  What  is  known  in  modern  pedagogy 


ral  history,,  physics  and  physiology.  Among 
those  of  the  second  class  may  be  mentioned 
reading,  drawing,  spelling,  penmanship,  music 
and  composition.  The  purpose  of  the 
"thought"  studies  is  to  furnish  food  material 
and  stimulate  concepts.  The  purpose  of 
"  expression  "  studies  is  to  intensify  impres 
sions  made,  facilitate  analysis  of  concepts, 
and  make  them  more  definite  and  clear. 
Geography  should  be  the  outgrowth  of 


CHRISMAN  HALL,  CLARK  UNIVERSITY,  ATLANTA,  GA. 


as  co-ordination  of  studies  should  be  of  spe 
cial  consideration.  The  program  or  course  of 
studies  may  be  divided  into  two  classes  : 
1st,  those  studies  which  deal  with  objects  of 
thought  and  that  furnish  the  best  material 
of  knowledge ;  2d,  those  studies  which  deal 
only  or  for  the  most  part  with  simple  expres 
sion. 

Among  those  of  the  first  class  may  be 
named  geography,  history,  arithmetic,  natu- 


the  natural  sciences ;  political  geography 
should  be  the  outgrowth  of  physical  geogra 
phy,  and  both  should  be  the  stepping-stones 
to  history.  Such  co-ordination  involves, 
1st,  the  teaching  of  clay  modeling  of  the 
various  grand  divisions  of  the  earth  in  its 
physical  phenomena ;  2d,  the  teaching  of 
spelling  with  composition  ;  3d,  the  teaching 
of  composition  with  all  the  "thought" 
studies,  with  a  comprehensive  exercise  of 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


59 


the  simple  applications  of  grammatical  con 
structions  of  subject,  predicate  and  object; 
4th,  the  insertion  of  general  reading  matter 
bearing  directly  on  thought  studies ;  and, 
5th,  the  weaving  of  such  moral  ideals  from 
all  the  studies,  separately  or  in  combination, 
:as  will  display  to  the  pupils  the  practical 
manifestations  of  good  will,  benevolence, 
justice,  temperance,  charity,  etc.  The  field 
of  school  ethics  is  exceedingly  narrowed, 


Simon  N.  Pattin.  of  the  University  of  Penn 
sylvania,  declares  that  children  can  be  edu 
cated  to  form  higher  combinations  of  things 
which,  taken  together,  give  much  larger 
sums  of  pleasure,  etc. 

The  Ground  to  be  covered  in  the  Gram 
mar  School  course  should  embrace  the  sub 
jects  of  taxation,  its  purposes,  rightfulness, 
methods,  justice,  its  benefits  and  necessities  ; 
what  role  these  have  played  in  wars  and 


MORGAN  COLLEGE, 

but  there  remains  a  ray  of  hope  for  efficient 
moral  training.  The  will  must  be  moved  by 
motives  of  the  truest  moral  stamina. 

Mythology,  that  idealized  history,  the 
legends,  folk-lore,  fairy  tales  and  dramas,  are 
all  freighted  with  ethical  lessons  of  the  bless 
ings  of  good-will,  and  the  curses  of  ill-will 
and  injustice;  the  inevitable  return  of  the 
•deed  upon  the  doer;  and  the  moral  grandeur 
of  those  who  obey  the  laws  of  conscience 
with  unswerving  determination.  Professor 


BALTIMORE,  MD. 

revolutions,  and  what  the  rights  £.n<i  duties 
of  true  citizenship  are,  and  thus  prepare 
every  pupil  who  completes  the  Grammar 
Course  for  the  active  duties  of  life  as  though 
he  would  never  enter  the  school-room  again 
as  a  student. 

Patriotism !  The  kind  of  patriotism  neces 
sary  is  that  which,  while  inspiring  the  chil 
dren  with  enthusiastic  love  for  their  own 
country  and  its  institutions,  carries  their 
sympathies  beyond  the  barriers  of  territory, 


60 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


race  or  language,  and  which  will  make  them 
feel  that  all  nations  are  a  part  of  a  great 
whole  or  communism  called  Civilization,  and 
that  every  American  must  "  act  well  his 
part"  toward  making  his  own  nation  a 
strong  contributor  to  ';he  best  forces  of  all 
Christendom. 

Well  might  the  distinguished  satirist  of 
the  Renaissance  declare  that  the  aim  of 
education  is  a  complete  man ;  who  fears, 
loves  and  serves  God  and  loves  his  neighbor 
as  himself;  skilled  in  art  and  industry ;  pos 
sesses  the  greatest  amount  of  knowledge, 
and  constantly  strives  for  greater  perfection 
in  it.  Finally  the  Ground  to  be  covered 
should  ultimately,  invariably  teach  the  love 
of  God : 

Could  we  with  ink  the  ocean  fill ; 
Were  every  stalk  on  earth  a  quill ; 
And  were  the  skies  of  parchment  made 
And  every  man  a  scribe  by  trade — 
To  tell  the  love  of  ^od  alone, 

Would  drain  the  ocean  dry, 
Nor  parchment  could  contain  the  whole, 

Though  stretched  from  sky  to  sky. 

To  the  foregoing  may  appropriately  be 
added  here  sketches  of  several  leading  Afro- 
American  educators.  The  first  to  be  named  is 

PROF.    BOOKER    T.  WASHINGTON. 

Principal  Washington  of  Tuskegee,  Ala., 
was  born  a  slave  at  Hale's  Ford,  Va.,  April, 
1857.  The  place  of  his  birth  and  early 
childhood,  was  a  small  one-room  cabin,  with 
a  dirt  floor — there  being  an  opening  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor  where  the  sweet  potatoes 
were  kept  in  the  winter.  He  belonged  to  a 
family  by  the  name  cf  Burrows. 

Very  soon  after  the  war  he  went  with  his 
mother,  Jane  Ferguson,  his  step-father  and 
the  remainder  of  his  family  to  Maiden,  W. 
Va.,  to  live.  Here  he  worked  in  the  salt 
furnaces  the  greater  part  of  each  year,  and 


went  to  school  during  three  or  four  months. 
Mr.  Washington  usually  secured  some  one 
to  teach  him  at  night  when  not  permitted  to- 
attend  school  in  the  day.  After  working  in 
the  mines  and  furnaces  for  a  considerable 
time,  he  secured  employment  at  the  house  of 
Mrs.  Viola  Ruffner,  a  lady  of  New  England 
birth  and  training,  and  who,  though  very 
exacting  regarding  all  matters  of  work,  was 
very  kind  and  showed  her  interest  in  the 
education  of  young  Washington  in  a  number 
of  v^vs. 

Slept  Under  the  Sidewalk. 

In  1871,  in  some  way  Washington  heard 
of  Hampton  Institute  in  Virginia  He  at 
once  made  up  his  mind  to  enter  that  institu' 
tion.  With  his  own  small  earnings,  amount 
ing  to  six  dollars  per  month,  and  with  what 
his  family  were  kind  enough  to  give  him,  he 
found  himself  in  Richmond,  Va.,  but  friend 
less,  shelterless  and  homeless.  Casting 
about,  however,  he  soon  discovered  a  hole 
under  a  sidewalk  that  offered  a  night's  sleep. 
As  luck  would  have  it,  when  he  awoke  next 
morning  he  found  he  was  near  a  vessel  un 
loading  pig  iron,  and  application  was  at  once 
made  to  the  captain  for  work,  which  was 
given. 

Mr.  Washington  worked  here  until  he  had 
enough  money  to  pay  his  way  to  Hampton 
Institute,  which  place  he  reached  with  a  sur 
plus  of  fifty  cents.  He  remained  at  Hamp 
ton  three  years,  working  his  way  through, 
and  graduated  with  one  of  the  honors  of  his 
class.  After  graduating  and  teaching  in 
West  Virginia,  his  old  home,  for  a  while, 
and  spending  a  year  in  study  at  Wayland 
Seminary,  Washington,  D.  C.,  Mr.  Wash 
ington  was  invited  to  return  to  Hampton  as 
a  teacher.  In  this  capacity  he  remained  at 
Hampton  two  years,  till  1881,  when  appli 
cation  was  made  to  Gen.  S.  C.  Armstrong. 


STUDENTS  LEARNING  TRADE  OF  BRICKLAYING,  TUSKEGEE  INSTITUTE. 


VTTENDING  THE  CONVENTION  AT  THE  TUSKEGEE  NORMAL   AND  INDUSTRIAL 
INSTITUTE,  TUSKEGEE,  ALABAMA 


DRESSMAKING  SCHOOL,  TUSKEGEE  INSTITUTE. 


BUILDING  AND  WAGONS 
BUILT  BY  THE  .STUDENTS  AT  TUSKEGEE. 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


61 


by  citizens  of  Tuskegee,  Ala.,  for  some  one 
to  start  an  institution  at  Tuskegee,  on  the 
plan  of  Hampton. 

Mr.  Washington  was  at  once  recom 
mended  for  the  position.  Upon  reaching 
Tuskegee,  he  found  neither  land  nor  build 
ings,  nothing  but  the  promise  of  the  state  to 
pay  $2000  annually  toward  the  expenses  of 
the  school.  The  school  was  started  in  an 
old  church  and  shanty  with  thirty  students 
and  a  teacher. 


and  wealthy  people  throughout  the  country. 
This  is  attested  by  the  fact  that  he  succeeds 
in  raising  from  $50,000  to  $60,000  each 
year  with  which  to  carry  on  the  school 
work.  Several  individuals  give  from  $3000 
to  $10,000  each  annually  toward  the  support 
of  the  school.  Mr.  Washington's  services 
are  in  constant  demand  to  speak  at  associa 
tions,  clubs  and  prominent  churches. 

The  speech  that  brought  him  first  into 
prominence  was  before  the  National  Educa- 


MAIN  BUILDING,  NEW  ORLEANS  UNIVERSITY,  LA. 


The  history  of  the  school  and  its  present 
condition  are  already  known  far  and  wide. 
It  is  enough  to  say  that  the  institution  with 
its  1900  acres  of  land,  its  28  or  more  large 
buildings,  with  its  1000  or  more  teachers  and 
pupils,  its  wealth  in  live  stock,  and  its  valua 
tion  of  over  $250,000  is  a  prodigy  of  devel 
opment. 

Principal  Washington  has  met  with  un 
usual  success  in  making  the  acquaintance 
and  securing  the  confidence  of  prominent 


tion  Association,  Madison,  Wis.,  in  1884. 
Soon  after  he  was  invited  to  address  the 
Boston  Unitarian  Club,  the  most  intelligent 
and  wealthy  club  in  the  world  he  being 
the  first  colored  man  to  address  the  club. 
He  has  also  spoken  at  Plymouth  Church 
(formerly  Henry  Ward  Beecher's),  Trinity 
Church,  Boston  (formerly  Phillips  Brooks'), 
and  many  other  of  the  most  prominent 
churches  in  the  country. 

Mr.  Washington  is  regarded  as  one  of  the 


62 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


leading  men  of  this  country,  and  is  held  in 
high  esteem  everywhere,  as  was  shown  by 
his  being  made  on  one  occasion  the  guest  of 
honor  at  the  table  of  the  Governor  of  Massa 
chusetts.  Surely  then,  if  we  take  into 
account  his  great  work,  it  is  not  going  too 
far  to  place  Mr.  Washington  among  the 
foremost  men  of  his  country  and  time. 

Probably  there  is  no  man  in  the  United 
States  that  has  done  more  for  our  people 
than  Prof.  Washington.  We  take  the  fol 
lowing  complimentary  notice  from  the  Daily 
Herald,  Quincy,  111.: 


when  he  entered  slavery  and  when  he  came 
out.  He  interested  every  one  greatly  in  the 
subject/' 

PROF.  J.  D.  CHAVIS..  A.M.,  B.D. 

This  distinguished  educator  was  born  in 
the  vicinity  of  Greensboro,  N.  C.,  August 
9,  1863.  He  was  born  of  free  parents, 
William  and  Nellie  Chavis,  but  under  the 
peculiar  circumstances  and  laws  which  have 
existed  in  North  Carolina  and  all  slave-hold 
ing  States.  This  gave  him  no  advantage 
over  the  unfortunate  slave. 


PHILANDER  SMITH  COLLEGE,'  LITTLE  ROCK,  ARK. 


"Earnestness,  simplicity  and  common 
sense  characterized  the  man  and  his  addresses 
at  the  Congregational  Church.  Very  large 
congregations  greeted  him  both  morning  and 
evening,  and  no  one  could  have  more  atten 
tive  listeners.  He  speaks  with  great  rapidity, 
with  much  emphasis,  but  weaves  in  his 
humor  so  that  he  is  never  wearisome.  His 
stories  were  full  of  wit  and  always  to  the 
point.  Some  passages  were  exceedingly 
eloquent,  especially  one  last  evening  where 
he  described  the  contrast  between  the  Negro 


On  his  father's  side  he  is  thought  to 
be  second  cousin  to  Rev.  John  Chavis, 
a  prominent  colored  Presbyterian  minister, 
a  true  educator,  who  taught  some  of  the 
best  white  families  in  the  State  before  the 
war. 

Young  Chavis,  in  1875,  having  acquired 
the  rudiments  of  education  under  great  dif 
ficulties,  while  sitting  on  his  ox- vagon 
loaded  with  wood,  saw  the  foundation  of 
Bennett  College  being  laid.  He  there  deter 
mined  some  day  to  go  to  that  college.  Two 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


63 


white  boys  with  him  laughed,  and  ridiculed 
his  ambition. 

A  few  years  later  he  graduated  from  that 
same   institution ;    completed    his   course  in 


In  the  fall  of  1889  he  was  elected  Princi 
pal  of  the  City  School  in  Winston,  N.  C. 
From  there  he  was  called  to  a  professorship 
in  Bennett  College.  This  position  he 


SCHOOL  OF  PRINTING,  CLAFLIN  UNIVERSITY 


SCHOOL  OF  PAINTING,  CLAFLIN  UNIVERSITY. 


Clark  University  in  1887,  with  the  degree  of 
A.B.;  spent  three  years  in  Gammon  Theologi 
cal  Seminary  and  graduated  from  there  in 
1889  with  the  .degree  of  B.D. 


acceptably  filled  for  three  years.  In  the  fall 
of  1892  he  married  Miss  Cornelia  Elizabeth 
Dorsette,  an  accomplished  lady  and  teacher, 
herself  being  a  graduate  of  Bennett.  College^ 


•64 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


having  taught  in  North  Carolina  and  in  Tus- 
kegee  Normal  Institute,  Ala.,  for  a  number 
of  years. 

In  1893  Prof.  Chavis  was  appointed  Presi 
dent  of  Bennett  College,  toward  which  his 
ambition  was  directed  years  ago.  His 
executive  ability  and  business  tact,  shown  in 
his  work  of  former  years,  give  him  pre-emi 
nent  fitness  for  the  responsible  and  honora 
ble  position  of  president  of  the  institution, 
which  position  he  now  successfully  fills. 

PROF.  A.  W.  McKINNEY. 

This  very  successful  teacher  and  clergy 
man  was  born  February  6;  1853,  in  Frank 
lin  County,  Ala.  His  parents  were  slaves, 
and  when  he  was  about  four  years  old  they 
were  sold  from  him,  and  he  never  saw  them 
again  till  long  after  the  Emancipation. 

By  his  own  unaided  efforts  and  diligent 
study  he  obtained  a  common  school  educa 
tion.  After  earning  and  saving  some  money 
he  went  to  Grenada,  Miss.,  and  entered  a 
high  school  taught  by  a  Northern  lady. 
While  here  he  worked  evenings,  mornings 
.and  Saturdays,  and  helped  to  pay  his  board, 
and  continued  his  studies. 

Here,  in  the  year  1873,  he  was  converted 
.and  joined  the  M.  E.  Church  under  Rev. 
Gilbert  Brooks.  It  was  through  the  advice 
of  that  good  man  that  he  entered  Central 
Tennessee  College  at  Nashville,  Tenn.,  in 
the  year  1874,  where  he  was  in  regular 
attendance  till  1877,  when  he  was  elected 
Principal  of  Nimrod  Institute  at  Eutaw,  Ala. 

In  1 88 1  he  was  elected  Principal  of  the 
City  Public  School  at  Marion,  Ala.  Dur 
ing  these  years  of  educational  work  he  also 
served  as  pastor  of  SouhV  Chapel,  Eutaw, 
and  Marion,  respectively.  His  three  years 
at  the  place  last  named  were  years  of 
marked  success.  In  1882  he  returned  to 
Central  Tennessee  College  and  graduated  in 


1884.  In  1885  he  was  appointed  pastor  of 
Lakeside  M.  E.  Church  at  Huntsville,  Ala., 
which  place  he  served  two  years.  In  1886 
he  was  elected  President  of  Central  Alabama 
Academy,  which  he  now  holds.  Under  his 
care  the  school,  which  was  at  one  time 
advertised  for  sale,  has  been  regularly  main 
tained  with  an  increased  attendance,  and  the 
buildings,  grounds  and  facilities  greatly 
improved. 

In  1 888  he  was  chosen  as  the  ministerial 
delegate  to  the  General  Conference  of  the 
M.  E.  Church,  which  met  that  year  in  the 
City  oi  New  York.  In  the  year  1892  he 
was  again  honored  by  his  brethren  of  the 
Central  Alabama  Conference,  who  elected 
him  as  their  delegate  to  the  General  Confer 
ence,  which  met  that  year  in  the  City  of 
Omaha,  Neb. 

PROF.  THOMAS  J.  GALLOWAY,  A.£. 

President  Calloway  was  born  August  12, 
1866,  in  Cleveland,  situated  in  the  mountain 
ous  district  known  as  "  East  Tennessee." 
The  subject  of  this  sketch  experienced  the 
usual  routine  life  of  a  farmers  lad.  His 
parents  were  ex-slaves  and  could  neithet 
read  nor  write.  They  managed,  however, 
to  keep  their  four  boys  and  three  girls  in  the 
town  school  five  to  six  months  in  the  year, 
using  them  during  the  remaining  months  to 
do  the  work  on  the  farm. 

Thomas  Junius  was  the  fifth  child  and 
third  .son,  and  was  quite  early  regarded  a? 
the  "Yankee"  brother.  At  the  age  of  six 
teen,  through  a  wise  enactment  of  the  Ten 
nessee  Legislature,  granting  scholarships  to 
each  Senatorial  District,  he  was  enabled  to 
enter  Fisk  University.  While  in  that  insti 
tution  he  was  elected  for  three  years  business 
manager  of  the  Herald,  a  college  publica 
tion,  and  enjoyed  the  hearty  confidence  of 
all.  He  graduated  in  1889,  after  a  schoo.1 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


life  of  many  difficulties,  but  surmounted  by 
his  characteristic  energy. 

After  graduation,  desiring  to  perfect  him 
self  in  practical  education,  he  went  to  Chi- 


ored  High  School  of  Evansville,  Ind.,  and 
Mr.  Galloway  was  at  once  employed.  The 
Evansville  schools  being  somewhat  "  in  poli 
tics,"  and  thus  suffering  from  outside  infiu- 


SCHOOL  OF  ART,  CLAFLIN  UNIVERSITY, 


DRESS-CUTTING  SCHOOL,  CLAFLIN  UNIVERSITY. 


cago,  and  by  working  at  odd  hours  was 
enabled  to  complete  the  course  of  Bryant 
and  Stratton's  Business  College.  At  this 
time  there  happened  a  vacancy  in  the  Col- 


ences,  he  resigned  in  May  to  accept  a  position 
in  the  War  Department,  Washington,  D.  C  . 
tendered  him  through'  the  Civil  Service  Com 
mission,  he  having  stood  a  high  examination. 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 
During  his  service  for  the  Government  he  I        In    the    spring    of    1894    he  was    elected 


used  his  spare  hours,  first,  to  take  special 
studies  in  law  and  afterward  to  establish 
and  maintain  quite  a  flourishing  educational 


Secretary  of  Tuskegee  Normal  and  Indus 
trial  School,  Tuskegee,  Ala.,  of  which  Pro 
fessor  Booker  T.  Washington  is  Principal 


SCHOOL  OF   BRICKLAYING,  CLAFLIN  UNIVERSITY. 


STEAM   LAUNDRY,  CLAFLIN  UNIVERSITY. 


bureau,  styled  the  "Colored  Teachers' 
Agency,"  designed  to  aid  colored  schools 
in  every  part  of  the  United  States,  in  selecting 
the  best  available  teachers,  and  likewise  fur 
nishing  positions  for  deserving  teachers. 


Before  assuming  charge  of  his  duties  at 
Tuskegee,  the  trustees  of  Alcorn  Agricul 
tural  and  Mechanical  College,  near  Rodney, 
Miss.,  elected  him  President  of  that  institu 
tion.  This  college  was  established  in  1871, 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


67 


ns  a  result  of  purchase  by  the  State,  of  Oak 
land  College,  a  famous  old  institution  for 
white  boys,  founded  in  1828  by  Southern 
Presbyterians,  and  sold  to  the  State  because 
of  the  loss  of  endowments  through  results  of 
the  war. 

It  comprises  2 1  buildings,  over  300  acres 
of  land.  Fifteen  teachers  are  employed  and 
over  300  students  are  enrolled.  The  courses 
are  Academic,  Scientific,  Preparatory  and 
Business.  Agriculture  is  taught  theoreti- 


elected  at  Tuskegee,  upon  his  election  to  the 
Presidency  of  Alcorn  College.  He  is  now 
devoting  his  energies  and  talents  to  the 
development  of  that  institution  with  much 
success.  As  one  of  the  evidences  of  his 
ability  he  has  through  his  efforts  secured 
for  his  school  the  donation  by  Congress 
of  a  township  of  land  amounting  to 
twenty-three  thousand  and  forty  acres, 
which  it  is  hoped  will  realize  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars. 


PHARMACEUTICAL  LABORATORY,  MEHARRY  MEDICAL  COLLEGE,  NASHVILLE,  TENN. 


cally  and  practically;  so  also  are  carpentry, 
blacksmithing,  printing,  shoemaking  and 
dairying.  The  institution  aims  to  prepare 
young  people  to  take  charge  of  public 
schools  of  the  State  and  to  make  useful 
and  thrifty  citizens.  While  the  shops  do 
not  aim  to  produce  mechanics  they  develop 
skill  that  enables  many  of  the  students  to 
follow  trades. 

Mr.  Calloway  resigned  his  position  in  the 
War  Department,  Washington,  D.  C.,  and 
also  the  position  to  which  he  had  just  been 


CLAFLIN     UNIVERSITY     AND     IN 
DUSTRIAL     INSTITUTE. 

This  institution  of  learning  is  located  at 
Orangeburg,  S.  C.  The  property  consists  of 
nearly  two  hundred  acres  of  land  and  thirty 
school  and  industrial  buildings.  The  cam- 
pas  is  pleasantly  located  and  well  shaded 
The  existence  of  the  institution  is  due 
largely  to  the  Hon.  Lee  Claflin  and  family, 
of  Boston.  The  faculty  is  composed  of  six 
teen  members.  Twenty  persons  are  em 
ployed  in  the  mechanical  and"  industrial 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


departments.      There  are   more  than  1000 
students  in  annual  attendance. 


printing,  painting  and    graining,  brickmak- 
ing    and    laying,    blacksmithing^    tailoring, 


AFRICAN  BOYS  BEING  EDUCATED  AT  CENTRAL  TENNESSEE  COLLEGE. 


FIRST  ENGINE  BUILT  AT  CENTRAL  TENNESSEE  COLLEGE. 


Twenty  trades  and  industries  are  taught, 
some  of  which  are  as  follows:  Carpentry, 
cabinetmakingf,  building,  steam  laundry, 


shoemaking,  cooking,  domestic  economy, 
dress  cutting,  fitting  and  making,  crochet 
ing,  artistic  painting  and  needle  work.  The 


'THE  PLANET"  COMPOSING  ROOM. 


"THE  PLANET"  MAILING  DEPARTMENT. 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


69 


industrial  department  does  most  of  the 
building  and  all  of  the  repairing.  All  furni 
ture  needed  in  the  dormitories  is  manufac 
tured  by  the  students.  The  institution  has 
proved  the  practicability  of  teaching  the 
trades  in  connection  with  the  literary  studies. 


CENTRAL 


COLLEGE 
NESSEE. 


OF    TEN- 


The  president  of  Central  Tennessee  Col 
lege  writes: 

"The  Meharry  Phar 
maceutical  Department 
of  Central  Tennessee 
College  has  been  in 

o 

operation  for  two  years. 
During  the  past  session 
nine  students  were   en 
rolled,  three    of  whom 
completed  the  required 
course    of  study.     The 
demand    for    colored 
pharmacists  far  exceeds 
the  supply,  and  during 
the  past  year  I  have  re 
ceived  applications  from 
five  different  States,  ask 
ing  for  young  men  to 
take     charge    of    drug 
stores;    but,    as    all    of 
our   pharmaceutical 
graduates  were  already 
provided    for,    I    was 
unable    to    supply    these    demands.       Our 
medical    graduates    have    opened,    and   are 
now  successfully  conducting  two  drug  stores 
in  Atlanta,    Ga.,   two   in  Nashville,  two  in 
Arkansas,  one  in  Greenville,  Miss.,  one  in 
Galveston,  Tex.,   one    in   Macon,   Ga.     The 
Meharry    Dental   and    Pharmaceutical    De 
partments  of  Central  Tennessee  College  take 
their  name  from  the  generous  and  philan- 
trophic    Meharry  family,  to  whom  we  are 


largely  indebted  for  our  present  buildings, 
grounds,  apparatus,  aid  in  support,  and  the 
beginning  of  an  endowment." 

The  school  building  is  supplied  with  work 
benches,  tool  room,  offices,  etc.  It  is  heated 
by  steam  and  ventilated  by  swinging  win 
dows  in  the  cupola  above.  The  building 
was  founded  by,  and  is  under  the  control  of, 
H.  G.  Sedgwick,  an  accomplished  mechani 
cian.  The  magnificient  outfit  of  machinery 
was  given  by  Professor  Sedgwick,  who  con- 


TELESCOPE  MADE  AT  CENTRAL  TENNESSEE  COLLEGE. 

secrated  it  by  his  own  splendid  genius  to  the 
work  of  Christian  education. 

Mr.  Sedgwick  is  a  Methodist  minister,  and 
in  entering  upon  this  work  was  impelled  by 
a  profound  consciousness  of  duty.  The 
course  is  for  four  years.  It  is  noticed  that 
the  students  who  stand  highest  in  their  liter 
ary  classes  take  the  most  interest  in  the 
department  of  mechanical  arts,  thus  com 
bining  mental  and  manual  training. 


70 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


The  telescope  made  by  colored  students 


SPECIMENS  OF  WORK, 
CENTRAL  TENNESSEE  COLLEGE. 

now    in    use    at   tne    observatory,    Law 


rence  University,  Appleton,  Wis.  The  en« 
tire  mounting,  with  the  exception  of  the 
object  glass,  the  eye-piece  and  the  steel 
tube,  was  built  at  the  machine  shops  of 
the  School  of  Mechanic  Art,  Nashville, 
Tenn.  All  of  the  polishing  and  nickel- 
plating,  and  all  of  the  surface  work  as 
done  by  the  students. 

Specimens  of  Work. 

Explanation :  i .  Steel  hammer,  forged 
by  hand.  2.  Cold  chisel,  forged  by  hand. 

3.  One    end    of    crobet    file,    polished. 

4.  Iron  nail,  electroplated,  first  in  copper, 
then  in  nickel,  then  in  silver,  after  being 
polished.    5,  6.  Steel  hammer,  forged  by 
hand.     7,  8,  9,  10,  12.    Parts  of  clock 
work,      ii.  Graduated  scale.      13.  Dia 
mond  point  angular  lathestool.    14.  Steel 
octagon  prick  punch,  forged  by  hand. 

15.  Steel    calipers,    forged    by    hand. 

1 6.  Brass    cog-wheel   for   tower    clock. 

17.  Steel     hammer,    forged    by    hand. 

1 8.  19,  20.    Specimens  of  brass,  silver 
and  gold  electroplating.     2 1 .  Steel  ham 
mer,  forged  by  hand. 

These  choice  specimens  of  handicraft 
were  all  made  by  Afro-American  students 
connected  with  the  School  of  Mechanic 
Arts,  Central  Tennessee  College,  Nash 
ville,  Tenn. 

OUR  EDUCATIONAL  PROGRESS. 

As  illustrating  the  advancement  made 
by  our  race  in  education,  the  following 
facts  from  Johnson's  "School  History  of 
the  Negro  Race  in  America"  will  be  of 
interest  : 

Can  the  Negro  learn  anything?  was 
the  first  question  he  had  to  answer  after 
schools  were  established  for  him.  The 
fact  that  every  slave  State  had  laws 
against  his  being  taught  before  the  war  and 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


71 


that  they  opposed  it  afterward  ought  to  be  a 
sufficient  answer. 

But  if  this  is  not  sufficient,  think  of  the 
deeds  of  Professor  Scarborough,  of  Macon, 
Ga.,  author  of  a  series  of  Greek  text-books 
which  have  been  adopted  at  Yale ;  George 
W.  Williams,  author  of  the  "  History  of  the 
American  Negro  ;  "  Joseph  T.  Wilson,  author 
of  "Black  Phalanx;"  C.  G.  Morgan,  class 
orator  at  Harvard,  1890,  and  a  host  of 
others. 

The  high  schools,  seminaries,  colleges  and 
professional  schools  for  colored  people  num 
ber  nearly  two  hundred.  Many  of  them  are 
controlled  entirely  by  colored  faculties  as 
Livingstone  and  Bennett  Colleges,  North 
Carolina ;  Morris  Brown  College,  Georgia ; 
Tuskegee  Normal  School,  Alabama ;  Wil- 
berforce  University,  Ohio  ;  Virginia  Normal 
and  Collegiate  Institute;  Kittrell's  Normal 
and  Industrial  Institute  and  Shaw  Univer 
sity,  except  its  president,  who  is  white,  but 


one  of  the  first  presidents  to  recognize  the 
ability  of  young  colored  men  to  teach  the 
higher  branches.  The  plan  works  admirably 
well  and,  besides,  teaches  the  race  to  confide 
in  the  ability  of  its  own  educated  men  and 
women.  It  affords  lucrative  employment  to 
many  who  are  by  nature  and  choice  fitted^ 
for  the  work  of  teaching. 

The  colored  people  of  the  South  have 
made  more  progress  in  education  since  the 
war  than  in  anything  else,  and  they  are  still 
thirsty  for  knowledge.  The  schools  every 
where  are  crowded.  The  love  of  knowledge 
seems  to  be  instinctive,  and  thousands  of 
faithful  mothers  spend  many  weary  hours  at 
the  ironing  board  and  wash-tub  in  order  to 
get  money  to  help  their  children  obtain  an 
education.  With  the  start  they  now  have 
twenty-five  years  more  of  earnest  work  will 
show  marvellous  changes  in  the  educational 
condition  of  the  race,  attended  by  marked 
improvement  in  every  respect. 


SECRET  SOCIETY  ORGANIZERS  AND  OFFICERS. 


OUR  people  have  not  been  slow  to 
see  the  advantages  arising  from 
combined   effort.     They  believe 
in  societies  for  mutual  improve 
ment,    for    dispensing    charity  to     aid    the 
unfortunate,  for  protecting  their  civil  rights, 
for  aiding  one  another  in  business  and  for 
elevating  the    race.     They   welcome    every 
organization  that  promises  to  secure  for  them 
any  political,  social  or  material  benefits. 

The  history  of  secret  societies  proves  that 
many  of  them  possess  a  value  and  confer 
benefits  that  are  something  more  than 
imaginary.  Otherwise  these  various  orders 
could  not  have  flourished  as  they  have.  Their 
members  are  devoted  to  them,  spend  much 
time  and  money  in  maintaining  them,  and 
show  in  other  ways  that  they  are  receiving 


some    real    advantage   by    continuing    their 
membership. 

Afro-Americans  are  -especially  interested 
in  societies  whose  prominent  feature  is  prac 
tical  benevolence,  for  example,  the  care  of 
the  sick  and  aged  poor,  the  assistance 
needed  by  those  who  for  the  time  being  are 
out  of  work,  and  the  help  required  by  them 
in  the  effort  to  obtain  employment.  Taking 
the  different  church  societies,  of  which  there 
is  a  vast  number,  and  the  secret  orders  of  a 
more  general  character  into  account,  it  is 
safe  to  say  that  a  very  large  proportion  of 
our  people  are  enrolled  as  members  of 
organizations,  of  one  form  or  another,  all 
aiming  to  promote  the  moral,  social  and 
material  welfare  of  those  connected  with 
them,  and  helping  to  sustain  them. 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


mystery  thrown  around  a  secret 
society.  He  is  attracted  by  the 
charming  regalia  and  the  brilliant 
parades.  He  takes  pride  in  the 
order  to  which  he  belongs,  and  if 
there  is  any  political  organization 
that  aims  to  advance  his  interests, 
secure  his  rights  and  elevate  him 
to  the  full  measure  of  a  noble  citi 
zenship,  he  throws  into  it  all  his 
energies,  and  is  faithful  to  his 
duties  and  obligations.  Who  can 
estimate  the  immense  benefits  thus 
derived,  or  the  noble  impulses  thus 
given  to  our  race  ? 

We  have  space  for  mentioning 
only  one  or  two  prominent  organi 
zers  and  officers,  but  take  pleasure 
in  presenting  the  following  brief 
sketch  from  a  contemporary  jour 
nal. 


CHARLES  H.  BROOKS, 
Grand  Secretary  G.  U.  O.  of  Odd  Fellows  of  America. 


Thus  the  great  fact  has  not  escaped 
our  people  that  "in  union  there  is 
strength."  The  finest  achievements 
are  brought  about  by  combined  effort, 
by  uniting  energies  and  directing  them 
to  a  common  object.  The  colored  man, 
as  all  know,  is  emphatically  a  social 
being.  He  is  happy  in  the  society  of 
his  kind.  His  nature  peculiarly  fits 
him  for  uniting  with  others  in  joint 
efforts  for  bettering  his  condition  and 
securing  benefits  that  he  could  not 
obtain  if  acting  independently  and 
alone. 

It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that 
he  is  ever  ready  for  united  action. 
The  great  benevolent  orders  have  a 
charm  for  him.  He  likes  the  air  of 


GEORGE  BRYAN  MILLS,  ESQ., 

Founder  of  the  Order  Esdros,  Baltimore,  Md. 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


73 


REV.  W.  W.  BROWN. 

"We  are  pleased  to  note,"  says  the  jour 
nal  above  mentioned,  "  that  our  people  are 
beginning  to  appreciate  the  power  there  is  in 
well-managed  organizations.  The 
bane  of  the  race  has  been  in  its 
division,  but  necessity  is  now  driv 
ing  our  people  together  into  societies 
and  associations  for  mutual  benefit 
and  advancement.  The  great  race 
organizer  is  Rev.  W.  W.  Brown,  the 
Grand  Worthy  Master  of  the  True 
Reformers,  who  is  now  bending  his 
energies  in  the  direction  of  instill 
ing  business  principles  into  a  peo 
ple  who  have  not  been  taught  the 
true  value  and  virtue  of  amassing 
wealth. 

"  There  is  another  feature  among 
the  True  Reformers  that  should 
not  be  overlooked,  and  that  is  the 
fact  that  through  that  organization 
many  members  of  our  race  obtain 
remunerative  employment,  who 
would  otherwise  be  without  work, 
and  that  is  an  important  item  in 
the  history  of  race  progress.  The 
organization  is  growing,  and  we 
expect  to  see,  ere  long,  well- 
equipped  banking  establishments 
under  its  supervision  and  direction. 
We  favor  the  movement  of  the  True 
Reformers,  because  it  tends  to  bene 
fit  the  masses,  and  is  doing  a  great 
work  for  the  race." 

We  also  take  pleasure  in  men 
tioning  another  name  favorably 
known  in  the  Order  of  Odd  Fellows. 

J.  J.'C.  McKINLEY. 

Mr.  McKinley  was  born  in  Russellville, 
Ky.,  March  5,  1852.  He  attended  the 
common  schools  of  Louisville,  and  entered 


the  University  of  Berea  in    1870.     In   1875 
he  accepted  a  position  in  the  public  schools 
of  Louisville,  where  he  has  since  taught. 
Mr.  McKinley  is  one  of  the   most  promi 


REV.  W.  W.  BROWN, 

Founder  of  the  Order  of  True  Reformers. 

nent  Odd  Fellows  in  the  State.  In  1 88 1  he 
was  elected  Secretary  of  the  Kentucky  Grand 
Lodge.  He  has  written  a  number  of  books 
on  Odd  Fellowship. 


74 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


J.    J.    C.    McKlNLEY. 

From  the  foregoing  sketches  it  will  be 
seen    that    many    of    the    most    prominent 


colored  men,  many  of  the  lead 
ers,  who  may  justly  be  consid 
ered  the  wisest,  the  most  far- 
seeing  and  the  most  devoted  to 
the  interests  of  our  race,  advocate 
friendly  societies,  and  look  with 
favor  upon  the  different  fraternities, 
the  objects  and  aims  of  which  tend 
to  the  improvement  of  the  masses 
and  the  bettering  of  their  condition. 
Such  societies  have  become  numer 
ous  and  are  well  supported. 

They  find  among  their  members 
those  who  make  good  and  careful 
officers,  active,  reliable  and  efficient. 
And  these  fraternities  are  also 
schools  of  education.  They  teach 
the  art  of  combined  effort,  the 
proper  control  of  finances,  and  the 
rules  that  should  govern  organized 
bodies  of  men.  They  promote  a 
spirit  of  brotherhood  and  of  active 
charity.  They  interweave  the  mu 
tual  relations  of  separate  individuals, 
bring  them  closer  together,  and 
teach  the  great  lesson  that  the  welfare  or  mis 
fortune  of  one  is  the  common  concern  of  all. 


NAVAL  AND  MILITARY  HEROES. 


AS  a  race  the  Afro-Americans  are  not 
ambitious  for  military  glory.     Our 
people  are  peaceable  and  willing  to 
settle  their  difficulties  without  any 
resort  to  arms.     The  character  of  the  race 
must  not  be  judged  by  exceptional  instances 
of  violence  and  bloodshed.     Yet  when  driven 
to    it,   the    race    has    shown    great   fighting 
qualities  and  has   displayed  a  valor  equal  to 
that  of  the  most  renowned  chieftains  of  other 
peoples. 

Among  the  famous  commanders  who  have 
shown  the  most  brilliant  military  genius,  the 


first  to  be  named  is  that  grand  historic  char 
acter  who  was  called  the  Napoleon  Bona 
parte  of  his  race. 

TOUSSAINT  L'OUVERTURE. 

This  celebrated  soldier,  statesman  and 
martyr  is  supposed  to  have  been  born  in  the 
Island  of  Haiti,  or  San  Domingo,  May  20, 
1743.  Though  very  delicate  in  his  extreme 
youth,  he  became  stronger  with  years  and 
always  showed  a  kind  and  open  disposition. 
His  real  name  was  Toussaint  Breda,  from  the 
estate  on  which  he  worked  as  a  slave  tending 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


75 


flocks  and  herds.  He  was  made  coachman 
by  M.  De  Libertas,  and  later  steward  of  the 
sugar  house.  He  married  a  widow  with  one 
son  and  learned  to  read. 

In  1791  the  revolution  broke  out  and  he 
joined  the  soldiers,  first  working  among  them 
as  physician,  but  was  afterward  called  to  the 
front  to  lead  them.  Under  his  leadership  the 
revolution  was  successful  and  he  restored  the 
island  to  peace  and  became  the  ruler.  All 
San  Domingo  was  prosperous  and  happy 
under  his  rule  until  Bonaparte  issued  a 
decree  in  1801  restoring  slavery  to  the  island 
and  sent  French  troops  to  carry  the  order 
into  effect. 

Made  a  Prisoner. 

L'Ouverture's  property  was  destroyed,  his 
family  scattered  and  himself  taken  to  the 
borders  of  Switzerland  and  thrown  into  a 
dungeon,  where  he  died  April  3,  1803.  His 
noble  character  is  shown  in  his  last  words  to 
his  son,  "  Some  day.  you  will  return  to  San 
Domingo  and  you  must  forget  that  France 
murdered  your  father." 

It  is  difficult  to  do  justice  to  this  extraor 
dinary  man  who  left  a  profound  impression 
upon  his  countrymen  and  his  time.  His 
passion  was  the  love  of  liberty.  In  the  great 
struggle  for  freedom  in  San  Domingo  he 
allied  himself  with  France,  believing  he  had 
more  to  hope  for  from  this  nation  than  from 
England,  but  he  was  basely  deceived.  It 
was  through  an  act  of  treachery  that  he  was 
seized  by  the  French  Commanding  Officer, 
in  order  that  he  might  be  transported  to 
France,  thus  permitting  slavery  to  be  re 
stored  in  the  Island. 

By  the  sheer  force  of  his  native  ability  and 
integrity  he  rose  to  the  highest  position 
among  his  people,  and  it  is  not  too  much  to 
say  that  no  nobler  leader  ever  marshalled 
an  army  or  struggled  for  independence.  Not 


merely  great  military  genius,  not  merely 
great  ability  as  a  statesman  appeared  in  his 
marvelous  career,  but  above  all  his  exalted 
character  shone  resplendently,  and  he  was 
too  honest  to  be  bribed,  too  courageous  to 
surrender,  and  too  devoted  to  the  welfare  of 
his  race  to  count  his  life  dear  to  him. 

Speaking  of  him  as  a  soldier,  Wendell 
Phillips  has  said :  Cromwell  manufactured 
his  own  army;  Napoleon  at  the  age  oi 


TOUSSAINT     L'OUVERTURE. 

twenty-seven  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the 
best  troops  that  Europe  ever  saw.  They 
were  both  successful.  "But,"  says  Macau - 
lay,  "with  such  disadvantages  the  English 
man  showed  the  greatest  genius.  Whether 
you  will  allow  the  inference  or  not,  you  will 
at  least  grant  it  is  a  fair  mode  of  measure 
ment  ;  apply  it  to  Toussaint.  Cromwell 
never  saw  an  army  until  he  was  forty.  This 
man  never  saw  a  soldier  until  he  was  fifty. 


76 


AFRO-AMERICAN   PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


and  sent  him  home  con 
quered;  at  the  most 
warlike  blood  in  Eu 
rope,  the  French,  and 
put  them  under  his  feet ; 
at  the  pluckiest  blood 
in  Europe,  the  English 
and  they  skulked  home 
to  Jamaica."  The  sol 
diers  were  proud  of 
their  general  and  under 
his  guidance  performed 
miracles.  It  seems  as 
if  he  never  slept.  The 
title  "L'Ouverture  "  was 
given  him  because  an 
officer  said  that  wher 
ever  Toussaint  goes  he 
always  makes  an  open 
ing,  the  word  means 
"the  opening." 


PRESIDENT   HIPPOLITE, 

San  Domingo. 

Cromwell  manufactured  his  own  army,  out 
of  what?  Englishmen — the  best  blood  in 
Europe  out  of  the  middle  classes  of 
Englishmen — the  best  blood  of  the  Island. 
And  with  it  he  conquered  what?  English 
men — their  equals. 

"This  man  manufactured  his  army  out 
of  what?  Out  of  what  you  class  a  de 
spicable  race  of  Negroes,  debased  and 
demoralized  by  two  hundred  years  of 
slavery.  One  hundred  thousand  of  them 
imported  into  the  Island  within  four  years, 
unable  to  speak  a  dialect  intelligible  even 
to  each  other.  Yet  out  of  this  mixed,  as 
you  say  despicable  mass,  he  forged  a  thun 
derbolt,  and  hurled  it  at  what?  At  the 
.proudest  blood  of  Europe,  the  Spaniard, 


MAJOR  F.  C,  REVELLS,  WASHINGTON,  D. 


" 


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13 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


77 


.1  would  call  him  Napoleon,  but  Napoleon 
.iiade  his  way  through  a  sea  of  blood.  This 
man  never  broke  his  word.  "  No  Retaliation  " 
was  his  great  motto  and  the  rule  of  his  life ; 
and  the  last  words  uttered  to  his  son  in  France 
were  these:  "My  boy,  you  will  one  day  go 
,  back  to  San  Domingo :  forget  that  France 
'murdered  your  father."  I  would  call  him 
Cromwell,  but  Cromwell  was  only  a  soldier, 
and  the  state  .he  founded  went  down  to  him 
into  his  grave ;  I  would  call  him 
Washington,  but  the  great  Virgin 
ian  held  slaves. 

This  man  risked  his  empire 
rather  than  permit  the  slave  trade 
in  the  humble  village  of  his  domin 
ions.  You  think  me  a  fanatic  to 
night,  for  you  read  history  not  with 
your  eyes  but  with  your  prejudices. 
But  fifty  years  hence,  when  truth 
gets  a  hearing,  the  muse  of  history 
will  put  Phocion  for  the  Greeks, 
Brutus  for  the  Romans,  Hampton 
for  England,  Fayette  for  France, 
choose  Washington  as  the  bright 
consummate  flower  of  our  earlier 
civilization,  and  John  Brown  as  the 
ripe  fruit  of  our  noon-day;  then 
dipping  her  pen  in  the  sunlight, 
will  write  in  the  clear  blue,  above 
them  all,  the  name  of  the  soldier, 
the  statesman,  the  martyr,  Tous- 
saint  L'Ouverture. 

HON.  ROBERT  SMALLS. 

The  daring  exploits  of  this  distinguished 
representative  of  his  race  date  back  to  the 
early  days  of  the  Civil  War.  He  was  born  in 
Beaufort,  S.  C.,  April  5,  1839.  Being  a 
slave  he  had  little  opportunity  for  obtaining 
an  education,  but  was  possessed  of  a  high 
order  of  intelligence  and  those  traits  which 
characterize  every  born  leader  of  men. 


In  1851  he  moved  to  Charleston  where 
he  familiarized  himself  with  ships  and  ship 
ping.  At  the  outbreak  of  the  war  he  was 
employed  on  the  Confederate  Steamer  Planter, 
a  vessel  plying  in  Charleston  harbor.  Smalls 
being  in  sympathy  with  the  Federal  cause, 
determined  to  watch  his  opportunity  and 
deliver  the  vessel  to  the  U.  S.  naval  officer 
of  that  district.  This  bold  exploit  gave  him 
wide  repute.  He  was  made  captain  of  the 


HON.   ROBERT  SMALLS. 
vessel,  and  was  highly  esteemed  by  his  supe 
riors  for  his   good    sense,  intelligence   and 
bravery. 

After  the  Planter  was  put  out  of  commis 
sion  in  1866,  Captain  Smalls  was  elected  a 
member  of  the  State  Constitutional  Conven 
tion.  He  was  of  course  the  hero  of  an 
important  act  in  the  drama  of  the  late  war, 
and  his  people  always  delighted  to  hear  him 
tell,  in  his  own  style,  the  story  of  the  cap- 


78 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


ture.  His  zeal,  good  sense  and  pure  disin 
terestedness,  easily  made  him  the  idol  of  his 
people,  whose  faith  in  him  was  unbounded. 
It  was  reported  in  the  newspapers  that  two 
colored  men,  partisans  of  his,  were  talking 
on  the  corners.  Said  one  to  the  other,  "  I 


SERGEANT  WM.  H.  CARNEY, 

Fifty-fourth  Massachusetts  Regiment. 

tell  you,  Smalls  is  the  greatest  man  in  the 
world."  The  other  said,  "  Y-e-s,  he's  great, 
but  not  the  greatest  man."  "  Pshaw,  man," 
replied  the  first  speaker.  "Who  is  greater 
than  Smalls?"  said  No.  2.  "Why,  Jesus 
Christ."  "O,"  said  No.  i,  "Smalls  is  young 
yet." 


At  the  general  election  in  1 868,  he  was 
elected  to  a  seat  in  the  House  of  Represen 
tatives  of  the  State,  and  signalized  his  efforts 
by  the  introduction  of  the  Homestead  Act, 
and  introduced  and  secured  the  passage  of 
the  Civil  Rights  bill.  He  continued  in  this 
capacity  until  Judge  Wright 
was  elected  as  associate 
judge  of  the  Supreme  Court 
of  the  State,  when  he  was 
elected  to  fill  his  unexpired 
time  in  the  Senate  in  1870, 
and,  at  the  election  in  1872, 
he  was  elected  Senator, 
defeating  General  W.  J. 
Whipper. 

His  record  here  was 
brilliant,  consistent,  and 
indeed  he  led  in  all  the 
most  prominent  measures. 
His  debating  qualities  were 
tested,  and  he  was  acknowl 
edged  a  superior  and  pow 
erful  talker.  He  was  on 
the  "  Committee  on  Fi 
nance,"  chairman  of  the 
"Committee  of  Public 
Printing,"  and  a  member 
of  many  other  leading  com 
mittees. 

Mr.  Smalls  was  elected 
as  a  Republican  to  the 
Forty-seventh,  Forty- 
eighth  and  Forty- ninth 
Congresses,  and  took  high 
rank  among  the  leaders  of 
the  House  as  a  wise  and  patriotic  statesman. 


COL.   JAMES  LEWIS. 

He  was  born  in  Woodville,  Wilkinson 
County,  Miss.,  in  the  year  1832.  At  the  age 
of  fifteen  his  work  on  the  river  began.  At 
the  time  of  the  emancipation  he  was  working 


AFRO-AMERICAN    PROGRESS    ILLUSTRATED. 


as  steward  on  board  the  Confed 
erate  transport,  De  Soto,  and  at  the 
glad  news  at  once  made  his  way  to 
New  Orleans  and  petitioned  the 
commanding  officer  to  allow  him  to 
raise  what  he  maintains  was  the  first 
regiment  of  colored  troops  that  en 
tered  the  United  States  Army. 

Mr.  Lewis  raised  two  companies 
and  was  mustered  in  at  the  head  of 
one  as  Captain  of  Company  K.  In 
1864  he  returned  to  the  city  and 
became  a  custom-house  broker  until 
he  was  appointed  travelling  agent 
for  the  Educational  Department  of 
the  Freedmen's  Bureau,  in  which 
capacity  he  travelled  all  over  the 
State  and  established  schools.  At 
the  close  of  his  work  with  the 
Bureau,  he  was  made  by  the  Hon. 
William  P.  Kellogg,  United  States 
Inspector  for  Customs.  This  place 


'ATTAIN  R.  A.  PAUL,  RICHMOND,  VA. 


COLONEL  JAMES  LEWIS. 

he  held  to  1869.  He  became  Sergeant 
of  the  Metropolitan  Police  and  was  pro 
moted  to  the  captainship.  He  later  held 
the  positions  of  Colonel  of  the  Second 
Regiment,  State  Militia,  and  Adminis 
trator  of  Police  and  Public  Improve 
ments.  In  1877  he  was  appointed 
Naval  Officer  of  the  Port  by  President 
Hayes,  and  was  afterward  made  Super 
intendent  of  the  United  States  bonded 
warehouses  in  New  Orleans. 

CAPTAIN  R.  A.  PAUL. 

Robert  Austin  Paul,  late  Commander 
of  State  Guards,  Richmond,  Va.,  was  born 
at  Livingston,  Nelson  County,  Va.,  No 
vember  3,  1846.  His  parents  were  slaves 


AFRO-AMERICAJN    PROGRESS   ILLUSTRATED. 


and  at  an  early  age  he  was  bound  out  under 
circumstances  very  unfavorable  to  the  ac 
quirement  of  knowledge,  which  was  his  chief 
ambition  from  early  youth. 

After  the  war,  with  the  assistance  of  his 
mother,  who  had  been  allowed  by  her 
master  to  acquire  a  fair  education,  he  soon 
equipped  himself  for  his  active  and  useful 


MAJOR  MARTIN  R.  DELAEEY. 

career.  He  entered  politics  early  and  has 
been  identified  with  all  important  political 
movements  in  his  State,  being  the  only  Afro- 
American  to  hold  the  messengership  at  the 
Virginia  State  House.  Through  his  influence 
the  Legislature  created  the  State  Guards  of 
the  City  of  Richmond,  and  he  was  made 
Captain.  This  organization  has  taken  part 
with  credit  in  nearly  every  competitive  drill 


in  the  State,  besides   having  taken  part  in 
national  drills. 

Captain  Paul  gave  up  his  military  life  sub 
sequently  and  became  one  of  the  most 
efficient  mailing  clerks  in  the  Richmond 
Postoffice.  He  has  marked  literary  ability 
and  has  contributed  largely  to  magazines  aiv; 
papers.  He  is  Past  Master  of  the  Masonic 
Lodge  at  his  home  and 
is  very  much  esteemed. 

MAJOR    MARTIN    B. 
DELANEY,  M.D. 

This  distinguished  sci 
entist   and   lecturer  was 
born  at  Charlestown.Va., 
May  6,  1812.     He  was 
the    son    of  an    African 
Prince      and     a     Golah 
woman    of    high    rank. 
He  was  married  to  Kate 
A.  Richards  in  1843.  In 
1818  he  first  began   to 
take  instructions  and 
studied  in  secret  until  it 
was  found  out,  and   his 
mother  moved  to  Cham- 
bersburg,  Pa.,  where  they 
lived  for  fifteen  years  and 
where  he  attended  school . 
In  1831   he   went    to 
Pittsburg     and     entered 
school,  and  in  1834  was 
officially  connected  witl< 
the  first  temperance  society  among  the  Afro 
American  race.     In  the  next  few  years  he 
studied  medicine  and  lectured  on  physioloyi 
cal  subjects. 

In  1843  he  started  Mystery,  an  Afro- 
American  weekly,  and  continued  editing  it 
for  some  years.  He  received  the  appoint 
ment  oi  Major  from  President  Lincoln  an,/ 
was  connected  with  the  Freedmen's  Bureau. 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  PROGRESS  OF 
THE  AFRO- AMERICAN  RACE 


By  PROF.  I.  GARLAND   PENN 


BECAUSE  of  the  very  great  develop 
ment  of  the  Afro-American  from 
slave  to  educator,  a  chapter   on 
this  subject  cannot  fail  to  be  an 
eye-opener  to  the  ignorant  and  a  wonderful 
inspiration  to  the  youth  of  the   race.     His 
condition  at  emancipation,  the  help  he  has 
commanded   and   received   in    one   way  or 
another,  the  prejudice  confronting  him,  the 
inconsistencies    with    which    he  has  had  to 
deal  without  and  within — all  emphasize  the 
educational  chapter  of  his  history. 

To  briefly  state  the  case  as  it  stood  at 
emancipation,  he  was  degraded,  superstitious, 
ignorant,  with  all  the  base  influences  of  slav 
ery  about  him,  with  here  and  there  a  spark 
of  intelligence  which  had  come  to  some  in 
dividuals  by  reason  of  contact  with  the  Mas 
ter  in  the  "  Big  House,"  as  house  servant, 
butler,  etc.  Compelled  to  live  without  learn 
ing  the  letter,  deprived  of  the  right  to  cultivate 
in  the  most  modest  way  his  mind,  that  he 
should  have  made  the  educational  progress 
which  is  evident,  is  nothing  less  than  won 
derful. 

The  acceptance  at  once  of  such  educa 
tional  proffers  as  came  to  him  from  the 
North,  was  itself  a  proof  of  his  capacities, 
for  dullness  and  stupidity  would  not  have  so 
eagerly  grasped  the  opportunity,  when  to 
grasp  it  was  a  voluntary  matter  with  the 
individual  and  not  compulsory.  It  was 
compulsory  that  he  should  be  deprived  ;  it 


was  voluntary  that  he  should  accept.  When 
the  Afro-American  was  emancipated  there 
came  into  the  field  help  from  all  sources  to 
educate  him.  Societies  that  were  already 
organized  in  the  North  for  work  transferred 
the  base  of  their  operations  South. 

These  societies  have  been  multiplied,  and 
through  them  millions  of  dollars  have  been 
spent  upon  the  race.  Though  compara 
tively  ignorant,  the  Afro-Arnerican  finds 
himself  in  the  period  of  reconstruction  a  large 
factor  in  the  Legislatures  of  the  South.  To 
him  is  due  the  credit  of  throwing  his  voting 
strength  in  favor  of  a  public  free  school  sys 
tem,  which  has  not  only  proven  his  great 
benefactor  in  the  South,  but  indeed  the  white 
man's  as  well.  The  effect  has  been  to  write 
a  chapter  of  educational  progress  that  will 
not  grow  dim  with  time. 

The  statistics  respecting  elementary  schools 
and  education  have  already  been  given  in  this 
volume  under  the  title,  "Thirty  Years  of 
Advancement." 

NORMAL  EDUCATION. 

In  dealing  briefly  with  the  various  kinds 
of  education  given  our  race  in  this  hour  of 
their  need,  we  shall  discuss  the  normal 
training,  since  it  is  most  popular,  and  rightly 
so,  because  the  demand  is  greater.  The 
thing  necessary  for  any  race  emerging  from 
dense  ignorance,  and  ushered  immediately 
into  the  light  of  citizenship,  is  liberal  training, 

81 


THE   EDUCATIONAL   PROGRESS. 


such  as  will  fit  them  for  intelligent  use  of 
their  rights  and  privileges  as  good  citizens. 
The  quick  preparation  of  teachers  and 
preachers  became  an  urgent  necessity.  Many 
friends  of  the  Afro-American  to-day  believe 
|  hat  an  education  in  the  English  branches  is 
all  that  he  needs  to  have.  The  colored 
people  are  largely  responsible  for  this  exist 
ing  sentiment.  In  many  cases  the  classical 
training  given  members  of  the  race  has  un 
fitted  them  for  the  duties  which  the  common 
people  demanded,  in  that  they  have  been 
shooting  over  the  mark  and  missing  the 
obiect. 

The  Training  Needed. 

There  has  also  been  another  class  who, 
thus  educated  classically  and,  finding  occu 
pations  in  an  educational  way  not  compati 
ble  with  the  character  of  their  training,  have 
found  themselves  eventually  in  the  lower 
strata  of  pursuits,  as  waiters,  barbers,  etc., 
rather  than  in  the  higher  walks  of  life.  It  is 
presumed  that  a  man  will  make  a  good 
waiter  if  he  is  well  up  in  English  branches, 
without  the  necessity  for  a  knowledge  of  the 
dead  languages,  science,  etc.  The  argument 
that  normal  education  is  the  training  that 
should  be  given  seems  justified,  as  a  large 
majority  of  those  who  are  most  successful 
are  normalites.  The  most  successful  Afro- 
American  to-day  is  a  normalite. 

Thus  in  this  field  the  wisdom  of  good 
normal  training  is  justified.  In  1894  there 
were  in  round  numbers  12,000  colored  youth 
in  normal  and  preparatory  normal  classes  in 
the  institutions  of  the  South.  Of  this  num 
ber  4000  were  in  the  normal  course  proper. 
This  estimate  does  not  include  the  2000 
students  in  public  high  schools,  which  num 
ber  is  made  up  from  partial  returns.  The 
total  would,  therefore,  give  us  14,000 
s  in  school  during  1894. 


COLLEGE    EDUCATION. 

What  has  been  said  under  the  previous 
heading  was  in  no  wise  an  argument  against 
classical  education.  Our  statement  of  the 
facts  in  the  case  was  simply  to  show  that  the 
argument  for  the  sentiment  in  favor  of  nor 
mal  education  is  apparently  justified  by  the 
conditions  which  exist.  There  are  abundant 
proofs  of  the  necessity  for  classical  training 
among  the  race,  but  not  so  general  as  in  the 
other  case.  The  classical  training  of  many 
and  their  success  as  linguists,  scientists,  etc., 
have  proven  beyond  doubt  a  capacity  for 
higher  training,  which  has  been  in  dispute 
ever  since  emancipation.  The  eminence  of 
Prof.  W.  S'.  Scarborough,  of  Wilberforce 
University;  Prof.  W.  H.  Crogman,  of  Clark 
University;  Prof.  D.  B.  Williams,  of  Vir 
ginia  Normal  and  Collegiate  Institute,  as 
Greek  and  Latin  scholars ;  Prof.  Turner,  of 
Clark  University,  as  a  scientist ;  Prof.  Kelly 
Miller,  of  Howard  University,  as  a  mathema 
tician,  and  many  others,  is  abundant  proof 
of  capacity  to  "dive  deep  and  build  sure"  in 
the  higher  education.  In  the  college  courses 
of  the  institutions  South  there  were  510 
students  in  1892,  and  610  from  only  partial 
returns  in  1894. 

PROFESSIONAL  TRAINING. 

In  professional  life  the  Afr<?-American  has 
been  very  active  during  the  years  of  his 
emancipation.  Into  these  fields  he  has 
largely  gone  and  not  without  a  great  meas 
ure  of  success.  His  active  interest  in  secur 
ing  a  professional  training  has  been  adversely 
criticised,  upon  the  ground  that  the  race  has 
not  builded  wisely  and  sufficiently  sure  to 
guarantee  the  support  which  professional  life 
demands.  The  truth  of  this  claim  we  do  not 
argue,  except  to  say  that  the  facts  or  condi 
tions  which  exist  do  not  justify  the  position 
as  to  several  of  the  professions. 


THE    EDUCATIONAL   PROGRESS. 


It  is  certain  that  the  educated  ministers  of 
worth  are  needed  to  push  out  the  vicious 
and  ignorant  man  who  now  in  many  cases 
holds  forth  in  the  pulpit,  a  giant  of  influence 
over  a  deluded  people.  The  physician  is 
needed  to  crowd  out  the  "  quack  "  and  the 
"  herb  "  doctor,  whose  practices  among  the 
1  ignorant  and  superstitious  yet  obtain.  It  is  a 
happy  omen  of  progress  in  the  race  that  the 
educated  minister  is  fast  getting  the  pulpits 
of  the  denominations  to  which  his  intelli 
gence  and  his  character  entitle  him. 

Success  in   Medicine. 

The  colored  physician  is  a  decided  success. 
Failures  are  the  rarest  exceptions.  As  a 
professional  man  he  is  not  only  appreciated 
by  his  people  in  that  he  gets  employment, 
but  he  is  paid  comparatively  better  than  any 
other  class  who  are  relying  for  support  prin 
cipally  upon  the  race.  To  their  credit  it 
may  be  said  that  for  the  most  part  the  physi 
cians  are  public  spirited  and  engage  very 
largely  in  helps  for  their  people. 

In  the  medical  schools  of  the  land  there 
were  fully  four  hundred  students  in  1895, 
and  the  statement  of  those  in  charge  is  that 
evidences  point  to  very  great  increase  in  the 
coming  years.  The  pharmacist  accompanies 
the  practitioner  in  his  lucrative  practice.  No 
Southern  State  is  now  without  the  druggist. 
Eighty  graduates  in  pharmacy  is  the  record. 
Nor  is  the  colored  man  behind  as  a  dentist. 
There  are  thirty-six  in  the  South,  with  the 
field  only  partially  examined. 

The  success  of  the  Afro-American  in  the 
law  has  been  more  conspicuous  and  more 
creditable  to  him  than  in  any  field.  That  he 
should  face  a  judge  and  jury,  if  not  them 
selves  prejudiced,  yet  influenced  by  a  preju 
diced  sentiment,  and  gain  his  case,  is  nothing 
less  than  creditable  to  him.  As  a  jurist  he 
has  found  himself  a  Judge,  District  and  City 


Attorney,  Commissioner  in  Chancery,  Cir 
cuit  Judge,  Clerk  of  Courts  and  successful 
practitioner  of  domestic  and  international  law. 
There  are  over  300  colored  lawyers  before 
courts  of  justices  in  the  United  States.  In 
1894,  103  were  enrolled  in  the  law  schools 
of  the  land. 

THE    INDUSTRIES. 

The  sentiment  of  the  country  has  been  in 
favor  of  industrial  education  for  the  race  with 
as  much  zeal  as  it  has  been  for  an  English 
education.  The  advocacy  has  been  for  a 
literary  education  that  would  help  the  intelli 
gent  application  of  industrial  training.  Upon 
the  score  that  our  people  should  receive  a 
good  industrial  training,  millions  of  dollars 
have  been  given  them  by  those  who  would 
like  to  see  the  race  build  upon  absolutely 
sure  foundations.  They  have  wisely  given. 
It  is  a  fact  that  needs  little  argument  that 
without  men  in  the  trades  a  race  is  building 
on  sand.  The  only  thing  that  can  be  urged 
against  our  labor  is  that  it  is  not  skilled.  It 
is  faithful,  honest  and  peaceful.  It  is  there 
fore  wise  to  make  it  skilled. 

The  industrial  schools  of  the  South  are 
meeting  that  demand.  An  approximation  of 
returns  as  to  the  work  of  industrial  schools 
shows  that  at  least  30,000  have  learned 
trades.  There  is  an  average  of  15,000  boys 
and  girls  in  industrial  schools. 

NORTHERN    PHILANTHROPY. 

Too  much  credit  cannot  be  given  the 
North  for  the  part  she  has  played  in  the 
education  of  her  black  brethren  in  the  South. 
Except  from  interest  in  humanity,  she  was 
not  compelled  to  thus  help  the  race,  and 
this  emphasizes  the  help  she  has  furnished 
since  emancipation.  The  historian  can  never 
tell  the  whole  truth  as  to  the  philanthropy  of 
the  North.  Even  in  organized  channels  it  is 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  PROGRESS. 


difficult  to  secure  accuracy  as  to  the  amount 
"frhich  has  come  from  the  North  in  the  inter 
est  of  education  in  the  South. 

In  1892  the  statistician  of  the  American 
Association  of  Educators  of  Colored  Youth 
reported  that,  as  far  as  the  records  were  open 
to  him,  the  total  sum  of  $12,975,401  had 
been  expended  through  organized  channels. 
If  to  this  large  amount  we  add  the  $991,562 
expended  in  the  scholastic  year  of  1893- 
1894,  it  will  be  seen  that  we  have  a  magnifi 
cent  total,  and  this  is  but  part  of  the  story. 
The  total  valuation  of  property  under  the 
care  of  societies  and  churches  for  the  educa 
tion  of  the  race  is  $6,692,759. 

SOUTHERN    APPROPRIATION. 

To  the  credit  of  the  South,  she  has  been 
also  liberal  to  Afro-American  education. 
She  has  not  dealt  as  unjustly  in  this  cause 
as  some  have  pictured.  The  difference  in 
the  aid  she  has  extended  and  that  of  the 
North  is  simply  that  Northern  aid  was  vol 
untary,  while  the  South,  in  obedience  to 
laws  made  by  herself,  is  compelled  to  pro- 
ride  for  her  black  population.  It  is  to  her 
credit  that  she  has  done  well  when  it  is 
remembered  that  there  is  no  comparison 
between  the  taxes  upon  Afro-American 
property  and  the  expenditure  upon  the  free 
education  of  the  race. 

She  ought  to  have  credit  for  establish 
ment  and  maintenance  of  State  normal 
schools  and  colleges.  When  the  hot-headed 
have  advocated  their  abolition  the  cooler 
heads  have  pleaded  for  fair  play  to  the  col 
ored  people.  She  should  have  credit  for 
employing  colored  presidents  and  professors 
in  her  State  schools.  More  than  any  sec 
tion  has  she  given  evidence  in  favor  of  classi 
cal  training,  however  much  she  may  have 
been  charged  with  failure  to  encourage  such 
training.  The  fact  remains  that  a  market 


for  the  classically  trained  has  been  found  in 
the  State  normal  and  industrial  schools  and 
colleges.  The  South  has  founded  a  school 
property  for  the  race  amounting  to  $657,- 
030,  and  appropriations  annually  of  $138,750 
for  their  maintenance.  In  every  Southern 
State  very  liberal  appropriations  obtain,  with 
Virginia  in  the  lead,  which  appropriates  an 
nually  $25,000.  The  expenditure  in  public 
school  education  of  our  youth  in  1893-1894 
was  ten  million  dollars. 

NATIONAL   GOVERNMENT    AID. 

The  failure  of  Congress  to  pass  the  Pub 
lic  Educational  bill  offered  by  ex-Senator 
Blair,  was  somewhat  crushing  to  our  people, 
who  were  in  need  of  its  benefits.  On  this 
account  it  may  be  interesting  to  know  just 
how  much  and  in  what  way  the  United 
States  Government  is  helping  toward  the 
education  of  the  race.  Howard  University, 
Washington,  D.  C.,  receives  on  an  average 
per  annum  an  appropriation  of  $25,000. 
Under  the  new  Morrill  Act  of  Congress, 
funds  accruing  from  certain  government 
lands  are  appropriated  to  agricultural  and 
industrial  institutions  of  the  land.  Colored 
schools  receive  from  this  fund  $66,100,  mak 
ing  a  total  from  the  Government  of  $91,100 
for  Afro-American  education. 

SELF-EDUCATION  SUPPORT. 

In  recent  years  philanthropists  have  main 
tained  that  our  race  after  years  of  help,  and 
because  of  the  accumulation  of  property, 
ought  to  be  willing  to  help  themselves. 
Now,  it  has  been  ascertained  that  for  the 
scholastic  year  1892-1893,  one-third  of  the 
amount  spent  upon  the  colored  normal  and 
higher  schools  was  furnished  by  the  race. 
This  was  also  the  case  for  the  next  scholastic 
year.  That  this  is  a  fact,  and  that  the  grow 
ing  tendency  of  the  race  is  to  do  more  toward 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  PROGRESS. 


85 


self-educational  support,  is  acknowledged  by 
many  of  the  societies  in  their  annual  reports. 

IN  NORTHERN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Reference  was  made  in  the  item  on  classi 
cal  training  to  the  fact  that  the  race  had  de 
monstrated  a  capacity  for  higher  education. 
If  additional  proof  of  this  capacity  in  com 
parison  with  other  races  is  needed,  we  have 
only  to  consult  the  records  of  Northern 
schools  in  which  the  Afro-American  has 
been  a  student.  It  is  a  fact  well  known  that 
he  has  never  failed  to  be  among  the  leaders. 

Morgan  and  Du  Bois,  of  Harvard;  Grimke, 
at  Princeton ;  Palmer,  Jason  and  Bundy,  at 
Drew ;  Cook,  at  Cornell ;  Bowen  and  John 
son,  at  Boston  University;  Many,  at  Univer 
sity  of  Pennsylvania;  Jackson,  at  Amherst ; 
Colson,  at  Dartmouth ;  Peques  and  Brawley, 
at  Bucknell,  Pa. ;  and  others  at  Yale,  and  a 
host  af  others  in  similar  institutions  are  proof 
positive  of  the  race's  capacity.  These  stu 
dents  have  all  held  high  rank,  and  many 
".vhite  faces  have  been  their  followers. 

OUR  BOYS  AND   GIRLS. 

In  concluding  this  chapter  and  knowing 
as  the  writer  does  into  whose  hands  this  vol 
ume  will  go,  he  cannot  forbear  offering  a 


few  hints  to  parents  on  the  apparent  one- 
sidedness  of  their  family  education.  To  the 
observant  man  it  is  not  hard  to  see  that  more 
attention  is  being  paid  to  the  training  of  girls 
to-day  than  boys. 

The  girl  is  educated  to  eventually  become 
the  wife  of  an  uneducated  man.  Of  such 
unequal  yoking  the  results  in  life  are  too 
plain  at  first  sight  to  call  for  much  comment. 
Returns  show  that  in  the  schools  there  are 
more  girls  than  boys,  and  further,  that  a 
greater  percentage  of  girls  remain  the  entire 
term  than  boys.  The  information  obtained 
from  a  majority  of  those  in  position  to  know 
is  to  the  effect  that  the  girls  are  more  studious 
than  the  average  boy.  If  the  education  of 
the  race  is  one-sided,  as  it  appears  from  such 
a  view,  we  are  not  accomplishing  the  end 
desired. 

The  side  of  our  race  as  it  relates  to  intelli 
gence  and  character,  is  to  be  presented  in  the 
men  of  the  race  as  well  as  in  the  women. 
No  argument  is  offered  against  the  education 
of  the  girl,  but  a  prayer  and  petition  accom 
panies  this  volume  in  the  interest  of  the  edu 
cation  of  the  boy,  that  he  may  be  fitted  to 
worthily  represent  his  race  when  necessity 
demands.  Side  by  side  let  the  sexes  grow 
in  knowledge  and  refinement. 


RISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  AFRO- 
AMERICAN  LITERATURE 


By  PROF.   I.   GARLAND   PENN. 


THERE  is  probably  no  phase  of 
Afro-American  progress  that  fur 
nishes  so  fruitful  a  theme  for 
thought  and  meditation  as  does  the 
rise  and  development  of  Afro-American  lit 
erature,  yet,  notwithstanding  this  fact,  we 
are  as  a  race,  from  a  literary  point  of  view, 
comparatively  unknown.  To  the  sixty  odd 
millions  of  our  population  our  literary  ac 
complishments  are  almost  a  blank,  if  not  a 
blank  entirely.  The  star  which  marks  the 
literary  horizon  is  one  whose  lack  of  bright 
ness  is  its  most  remarkable  characteristic. 

By  this  statement  I  mean  to  say  that  few 
works  of  Afro-American  authorship  are 
known  to  the  masses,  while  the  bulk  remains 
yet  to  be  introduced.  One  reason  for  this  is 
that  few  works  have  been  subjected  to  ex 
amination  and  allowed  to  come  under  the 
critic's  eye,  or,  if  submitted,  they  were  found 
wanting  in  the  scale  of  literary  criticism, 
which  prevented  favorable  mention  or  en 
dorsement.  I  venture  the  opinion  that  much 
of  the  literature  that  is  good  and  commenda 
ble  is  not  known,  simply  because  it  has  not 
been  put  in  the  hands  of  those  who  are  pre 
pared  to  pronounce  a  just  and  impartial  ver 
dict  upon  it.  I  will  note  the  character  of 
our  literature,  which  seems  to  be  necessary 
before  its  rise  and  progress  can  be  discussed. 

The  Afro-American  as  a  slave  needed  no 
literature,  for  he  was  not  allowed  to  use  it, 
and  was  not  capable  of  using  it.  But  it  will 
86 


be  remembered  that  the  transfer  of  slavery 
from  North  to  South  left  many  freedmen  in 
the  Northern  States.  As  a  slave  he  was 
making  history,  though  sad;  as  a  freedman 
he  was  making  history  more  pleasant  and 
laudable  in  character.  Thus  the  character 
of  our  literature  was  early  shaped  into  that 
of  history  which  remains  largely  unto  this 
day.  Out  of  these  facts  comes  the  rise  oi 
Afro-American  literature,  yet  not  its  genesis, 
for  two  very  important  works  had  been 
issued  prior  to  this  time,  one  of  poetry  and 
another  of  science,  of  which  we  should  never 
lose  sight.  Some  thirty  odd  years  before 
this  Phyllis  Wheatley  had  issued  a  volume 
of  poems  and  Benjamin  Bannaker  a  work  of 
science.  Both  efforts  were  highly  com 
mended  and  worthily  praised  by  Washing 
ton,  Jefferson  and  other  distinguished  states 
men  of  that  period. 

First  Afro-American  Newspaper. 

Recalling  the  fact  that  as  a  freedman  in 
one  section  of  the  Union  the  Afro-American 
began  to  make  history  and  to  be  the  subject 
for  history,  as  a  natural  sequence  he  began 
to  prepare  a  literature  of  his  own  in  the 
absence  of  any  such  preparation  upon  the 
part  of  others.  The  need  of  a  journal  was 
most  manifest,  which  was  met  in  the  issuance 
of  the  first  Afro-American  paper,  Freedom's 
Journal,  in  1827.  In  this  journal  the  past 
efforts,  the  present  condition  and  the  future 


THE   RISE   AND    PROGRESS    OF   LITERATURE. 


87 


of  the  Afro-American  was  the  one  subject 
considered  most  important,  and  hence  most 
discussed. 

A  view  of  the  past  revealed  the  fact  that 
the  Afro-American  had  conducted  himself 
befitting  a  patriot  in  the  Revolutionary 
period,  who  desired  to  see  his  land  rid  of 
taxation  without  representation.  It  was  felt 
that  these  black  patriots  should  not  go  un 
noticed,  hence  William  C.  Nell,  of  Boston, 
met  the  emergency  with  the  publication  of 
"  The  Colpred  Patriots  in  the  American 
Revolution."  It  was  a  work  of  396  pages 
and  was  graced  with  an  introduction  by  Mrs. 
Harriet  Beecher  Stowe.  Said  she  :  "  This 
work  has  been  compiled  as  a  means  of  en 
lightening  public  sentiment  in  an  interesting 
but  much  neglected  department  of  American 
history." 

The  Editor  and  Orator. 

In  considering  the  present  and  future,  it 
was  plainly  seen  that  to  arouse  popular  sen 
timent  in  favor  of  abolition  in  the  South  and 
equality  of  rights  in  the  North,  the  Afro- 
American  must  himself  produce  the  editor 
and  orator.  It  was  not  long  before  they 
were  raised  in  the  person  of  Russwurm,  Cor 
nish,  Bell,  McCune  Smith,  Myers,  Garnett, 
Ray,  Hodges,  Ruggles,  Wilson,  Remond, 
Delaney,  Pennington,  Purvis,  Downing, 
Vashon  and  the  matchless  and  fearless 
leader,  Frederick  Douglass.  With  forceful 
editorials  and  persuasive  oratory,  these  men, 
in  sanctum  and  on  rostrum,  created  a  senti 
ment  for  their  cause,  the  results  of  which  are 
too  well  known  for  restatement  here. 

No  one  will  deny  that  these  men  made 
history  and  were  themselves  fit  subjects  for 
the  historian's  pen.  In  the  absence  of  the 
historian,  Fred.  Douglass  related  his  own 
bondage  and  freedom  in  a  published  work 
entitled  "  My  Bondage  and  My  Freedom." 


The  Wesleyan,  a  deservedly  popular  paper, 
said  of  the  book  :  "  This  is  a  splendid  work. 
The  personal  worth  of  the  author,  the  de 
served  popularity  he  has  secured  throughout 
this  nation,  and  the  universal  desire  that  pre 
vails  to  have  a  memento  of  one  of  Nature's 
noblemen,  will  conspire  to  create  an  unpre 
cedented  demand  for  this  book." 

Published  Works, 

It  was  left  for  Dr.  William  Welles  Brown 
to  relate  the  deeds  and  work  of  the  others, 
which  he  did  in  an  admirable  publication 
entitled,  "The  Black  Man."  Dr.  Brown 
afterwards  issued  several  works,  the  most 
notable  being  the  one  entitled,  "  The  Rising 
Sun."  Besides  these  works  of  history  and 
biography,  a  careful  research  and  patient 
investigation  reveals  the  fact  that  thirty-five 
works  of  Afro-American  authorships  were 
issued  and  being  sold  prior  to  1861. 

Judging  from  the  comments  of  the  news 
papers  and  the  ability  of  the  authors,  very 
few  of  whom  live  now,  most  of  these  works 
were  of  an  excellent  literary  character. 
Among  them  were  efforts  of  science,  poetry 
and  art,  and  it  is  but  just  to  say  that  even 
under  the  present  changed  conditions  of 
Afro-American  life,  I  have  found  no  such 
efforts  in  so  large  and  varied  forms  as  those 
of  that  unfavorable  period. 

After  a  few  years  of  educational  advance 
ment  and  wonderful  strides  of  progress,  a 
history  of  the  race  from  its  entrance  in  this 
country  was  a  thing  of  evident  necessity,  and 
the  historian  was  brought  forth  in  the  person 
of  Colonel  George  W.  Williams,  of  Ohio, 
who  wrote  the  voluminous  history  known  as 
"  The  History  of  the  Negro  Race  in  America 
from  1619  to  1880."  He  was  also  author 
of  the  book  entitled  "  Williams'  Negro 
Troops." 

These  works,  with  the  "  Life  and  Times  of 


88 


THE   RISE  AND   PROGRESS   OF   LITERATURE. 


Frederick  Douglass "  and  the  "  Black  Bri 
gade,"  by  Prof.  P.  H.  Clark,  served  the  race 
most  splendidly  until  1880,  when  a  revival 
of  Afro-American  literature  seems  to  have 
taken  place. 

The  distinctive  Afro-American  churches 
had  made  a  history  for  themselves,  and  it 
was  felt  that  this  ought  to  be  recorded. 
Bishop  Daniel  A.  Payne  wrote  his  "  Recol 
lections  of  Seventy  Years;"  Bishop  A.  W. 
Wayman,  "The  Cyclopedia  of  the  A.  M.  E. 
Church  ;  "  Bishop  B.  T.  Tanner  his  "  Apol 
ogy  for  African  Methodism  ;  "  Bishop  J.  J. 
Moore,  "The  History  of  the  A.  M.  E. 
Church,"  while  Bishop  D.  A.  Payne  is  the 
author  of  a  similar  work  in  two  volumes. 
Bishop  J.  W.  Hood,  of  the  A.  M.  E.  Z. 
Church,  has  issued  a  voluminous  history  of 
that  church  which  is  remarkable  for  its  in 
trinsic  merit. 

Surprising   Advancement. 

A  careful  survey  of  the  field  from  1880 
to  1890  shows  an  astonishingly  large  num 
ber  of  productions  in  history,  biography, 
poetry,  religious,  imaginative  and  pure  liter 
ature.  I  have  closely  calculated  the  num 
ber  of  works  published  in  the  ten  years,  and 
for  every  one  published  prior  to  1875  I  have 
found  ten  published  in  the.  decade  from  1880 
to  1890. 

Since  it  is  highly  probable  that  much  of 
this  literature  is  not  known,  I  might,  with 
profit  to  the  reader,  particularize.  In  addi 
tion  to  the  published  works  in  history  here 
tofore  mentioned  there  were  added  in  this 
decade  to  the  list :  "  The  Black  Phalanx," 
by  the  late  Colonel  Joseph  T.  Wilson,  of  the 
Fifty-fourth  Massachusetts  Volunteers,  which 
recorded  the  most  formidable  as  well  as 
praiseworthy  efforts  of  black  patriots  in  the 
wars  of  1812  and  1865  ;  "  The  Colored  Man 
in  the  M.  E.  Church,"  by  Rev,  L,  M, 


Hagood,  M.  D.;  "  The  Underground  Rail- 
road,"  by  William  T.  Still,  a  large  octavo 
volume  of  780  pages,  which  tells  the  achieve 
ments  of  that  historic  society  of  abolitionists. 
To  these  must  be  added  "  The  Afro-Amer 
ican  Press  and  its  Editors,"  570  pages,  which 
gives  the  story  of  the  race's  achievements  in 
journalism  ;  "  Music  and  Some  Highly  Mu 
sical  People,"  by  the  late  Recorder,  J.  M. 
Trotter,  giving  the  history  of  musical  men 
and  women  of  the  race  and  their  deeds; 
"  The  History  of  Independent  Methodism," 
by  Dr.  A.  R.  Green ;  "  The  Black  Brigade," 
by  Prof.  Peter  H.  Clark,  a  work  on  Afro- 
American  Soldiers. 

Records  of  Noble  Women. 

"  The  work  of  Afro-American  women," 
by  Mrs.  N.  F.  Mossell,  of  Philadelphia,  is 
another  effort  of  a  commendable  character. 
In  two  other  publications  monuments  are 
erected  to  the  successes  and  triumphs  of  our 
womanhood.  "  Women  of  Distinction,"  by 
Dr.  L.  A.  Scruggs,  of  Raleigh,  N.  C.,  is  a 
historical  treatise  on  the  work  of  our  women 
that  is  well  worthy  of  them.  "  Noted  Negro 
Women,"  by  Dr.  M.  A.  Majors,  of  Fort 
Worth,  Texas,  is  another  valuable  book. 

These  histories  with  those  heretofore  men 
tioned,  give  ample  food  for  the  rising  Afro- 
American  to  feed  upon  in  his  endeavors  to 
climb  the  heights.  The  most  of  these  works 
have  also  touched  upon  biography,  realizing 
the  truth  of  Emerson's  statement  that "  there 
is  properly  no  history,  only  biography." 

There  have,  however,  been  special  works 
of  biography.  "  Men  of  Mark,"  by  the  late 
Rev.  W.  J.  Simmons,  D.D.,  is  the  most 
popular  and  the  only  one  outside  of  denomi 
national  biographies..  "Our  Baptist  Minis 
ters  and  Schools  "  is  a  work  by  Dr.  A.  W. 
Pegues  of  640  pages,  which  is  in  itself  a  ref 
utation  of  the  statement  as  to  the  immense 


THE   RISE    AND    PROGRESS    OF   LITERATURE. 


89 


ignorance  prevailing  among  ministers  of  that 
denomination.  Out  of  the  large  number  of 
biographical  sketches  given  in  this  book  I 
discover  few  who  are  not  men  of  training, 
the  same  having  been  acquired  in  some  one 
of  the  schools  controlled  by  the  American 
Baptist  Home  Mission  Society. 

Works   of  Rare    Merit. 

"  Our  Pulpit  Illustrated,"  by  Rev.  E.  R 
Carter,  of  Atlanta,  Ga.,  is  a  biographical 
work  of  merit.  Mr.  Carter  is  also  author  of 
a  work  on  the  Holy  Land  and  a  history  of 
the  progress  made  by  the  negro  in  the  City 
of  Atlanta.  An  autobiographical  work,  en 
titled  "  From  the  Virginia  Plantation  to  the 
National  Capitol,"  by  Hon.  John  Mercer 
Langston,  ex-Congressman,  and  the  only 
colored  Congressman  ever  in  the  House 
from  Virginia,  is  a  large  and  exceedingly 
creditable  production,  not  only  from  the  in 
formation  it  gives,  but,  indeed,  the  compo 
sition. 

The  late  works  on  "  Frederick  Douglass 
as  an  Orator,"  by  Prof.  James  M.  Gregory, 
and  one  entitled  "  Life  and  Times  of  Fred. 
Douglass,"  serve  well  the  necessity  for  a 
record  of  the  deeds  and  triumphs  of  the 
"  Old  Man  Eloquent,"  now  that  he  is  no 
more. 

In  poetry  we  have  had  some  highly  cred 
itable  productions  during  the  decade.  Mrs. 
F.  E.  U.  Harper  is  the  oldest  and  most  pop 
ular  in  this  branch  of  imaginative  literature. 
Dr.  A.  A.  Whitman's  production,  "The 
Rape  of  Florida,"  is  a  painstaking  work  of 
literary  value.  W.  H.  A.  Moore,  Esq.,  of 
New  York,  bids  fair  to  be  the  giant  in  this 
field. 

"  Thoughts  in  Verse,"  by  Rev.  George  C. 
'Rome,  is  another  book  of  poems  that  has 
received  flattering  encomiums  from  both 
press  and  people.  Paul  Lawrence  D unbar 


is  a  poet  of  very  great  ability.  His  poems 
find  their  way  on  merit  only  into  the  leading 
magazines  of  the  land.  A  poem  entitled 
"  Negro  Love  Song,"  in  The  Century  maga 
zine,  is  a  great  credit  to  himself  and  satisfac 
tion  to  his  race.  D.  Webster  Davis,  of 
Richmond,  Va.,  has  a  book  of  poems  which 
are  pronounced  by  all  to  be  brilliant. 

Other  works  of  a  poetical  character  may 
be  expected  from  the  pens  of  some  of  the 
brightest  of  the  race  who  have  hitherto  been 
content  to  publish  their  poems  in  news 
papers,  without  further  effort.  In  theologi 
cal,  sermonic  and  general  religion*  works 
the  number  has  been  large,  and,  truth  to 
say,  most  of  them  have  had  large  sale 
among  the  race  and  must  have  accomplished 
much  good.  Some  of  them  are  remarkable 
for  their  breadth  of  discussion  and  profound 
ness  of  argument,  while  the  language  em 
ployed  is  marvellously  chaste  and  refined. 
Their  names  are  not  here  given  for  lack  of 
space. 

Department  of  Fiction. 

In  story  writing  Mrs.  A.  E.  Johnson,  of 
Baltimore,  is  the  author  of  a  very  creditable 
book,  widely  read  and  valued  by  people  of 
both  races  for  its  style.  There  is  no  author 
whose  productions  have  brought  more  credit 
to  the  race  than  Mrs.  Johnson's.  Their  sale 
has  not  been  confined  to  the  race  alone,  but 
are  to  be  found  in  many  white  libraries  of 
the  land.  Her  work,  known  as  "  The 
Hazely  Family,"  is  a  gem. 

One  of  the  best  productions  in  novel  form 
yet  produced  by  the  race  is  known  as  "  Ap 
pointed,"  by  two  brilliant  writers,  Messrs.  W. 
H.  Stowers  and  W.  H.  Anderson,  of  Detroit, 
Mich.  Of  this  work  the  A.  M.  E.  Zion  Quar 
terly  says  :  "  '  Appointed  '  is  typically  an 
American  novel,  strictly  up  to  date."  Mrs. 
F.  E.  W.  Harper  issued  another  work  of  a 


90 


THE   RISE   AND    PROGRESS   OF   LITERATURE. 


novelistic  character,  entitled  "lola  Leroy." 
It  is  regarded  by  many  as  a  work  of  excep 
tional  merit. 

Mrs.  A.  J.  Cooper,  of  Washington,  D.  C, 
another  polished  writer,  has  published  a 
work  which  is  pronounced  excellent  by  all 
irrespective  of  race.  It  is  entitled  "  A  Voice 
from  a  Black  Woman  of  the  South."  She 
treats  subjects  bearing  upon  the  race  relation, 
etc.,  with  profound  thought  and  reason.  She 
ranks  as  one  of  the  greatest  women  of  her 
time  in  ripeness  of  scholarship  and  the  ease 
with  which  she  treats  the  problems  and  ques 
tions  of  the  hour. 

In  text-book  work  Prof.  W.  S.  Scarbor 
ough,  widely  known,  has  published  the  only 
linguistic  work,  "  First  Lessons  in  Greek ;  " 
Prof.  E.  A.  Johnson  the  only  school  history, 
"  The  School  History  of  the  Negro  Race  in 
America;"  Dr.  D.  B.  Williams,  the  only 
scientific  work,  "  Science,  Art  and  Methods 
of  Teaching."  "  Grammar  Land,"  is  the 
title  of  a  small  but  interesting  treatise  for 
beginners  by  the  late  Mrs.  L.  F.  Scruggs,  of 
Raleigh,  N.  C. 

These  text-books  are  being  used  in  many 
of  the  leading  colleges  and  normal  schools 
of  the  country.  In  general  literature,  "Africa 
and  America,"  Rev.  A.  Crummell,  D.D.  ; 
"Black  and  White,"  Hon.  T.  T.  Fortune; 
"  Don't,"  Rev.  R.  C.  O.  Benjamin ;  "  Libe 
ria,"  T.  McCants  Stewart,  Esq. ;  "  The  New 
South  Investigated,"  D.  A.  Strater,  LL.D. ; 


"Freedom  and  Progress,"  Dr.  D.  B.  Wil 
liams;  "Lectures  and  Addresses,"  Hon.  J. 
M.  Langston  ;  "  Architecture  and  Building," 
R.  Charles  Bates;  "Orations  and  Speeches," 
J.  W.  Ashley,  edited  by  Bishop  B.  W. 
Arnett;  "Plain  Talks,"  Rev.  J.  W.  E. 
Bowen,  D.D.,  are  among  the  best  and  most 
important. 

A  large  number  of  other  works  have  been 
issued  of  history  and  biography,  of  a  local 
character,  which  are  well  written  and  have 
served  well  the  purposes  for  which  they  were 
brought  out.  Even  though  our  literature 
has  been  mainly  confined  to  us  as  a  race,  we 
have  hopes  that  the  reader  will  admit  that 
progress  has  been  made.  Of  necessity  a  race 
literature  had  to  be  made  in  the  absence  of 
proper  recognition  by  American  historians 
and  writers.  I  have  hopes,  however,  that 
this  state  of  affairs  will  not  longer  exist,  that 
the  scope  and  influence  of  our  literature  may 
be  broadened  by  a  recognition  of  the  Afro- 
American  as  a  writer,  and  by  his  own  perse 
verance  in  seeking  to  adjust  himself,  pure  and 
simple,  to  American  life.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  as  the  idea  of  citizenship,  patriotism,  and 
the  responsibility  belonging  thereto,  becomes 
more  natural  to  the  Afro-American  and  he 
arrives  at  the  point  when  he  considers  him 
self  not  as  an  Afro- American,  but  an  Ameri 
can  citizen,  his  literature,  his  politics  and  his 
religious  life  will  stand  forth  in  grander  pro 
portions. 


By   PROF.   I.   GARLAND   PKNN 


TO   those  who  attended  the  World's 
Columbian  Exposition,  held  in  Chi 
cago  in    1893,  it  is  a  well-known 
fact  that  the  resources  of  the  South 
ern  States  were  not  creditably  shown.    With 
State  appropriations  and  a  proper  compre 
hension  of  the  magnitude  of  the  Fair,  this 
would    seem    surprising,   but    as   the    Hon. 
Clark  Howell,  editor  of  the  Atlanta  Constitu 
tion,  puts  it  in  the  Review  of  Reviews  for 
February,   1895,  "The  South  was  not  ade 
quately  represented  at  Chicago,  because  of 
peculiar  difficulties  in  the  organic  law  of  the 
Southern  States." 

This  failure,  and  a  consequent  need,  well- 
nigh  imperative,  for  the  South  to  show  in 
what  respect  it  is  great,  led  to  a  representa 
tive  meeting  of  the  business  men  of  Atlanta, 
who  conceived,  brought  forth  and  named 
the  Cotton  States  and  International  Exposi 
tion,  which  is  justly  termed  the  "  World's 
Event  of  1895^'  It  is  generally  termed  by 
the  people  of  the  South,  particularly  the  col 
ored,  the  "  World's  Fair  of  the  South." 

From  an  Afro-American  standpoint  it  is 
truly  suggestive,  for  the  relations  which  he 
sustains  to  the  mammoth  enterprise  make  it 
his  World's  Fair,  in  the  absence  of  a  similar 
opportunity  at  Chicago,  for  which  he  pe 
titioned  and  prayed. 

Shortly  after  it  had  been  given  to  the  pub 
lic  of  Atlanta  and  the  country  in  general 
that  the  South  would  try  its  hand  on  a  great 
Fair,  Bishop  W.  J.  Gaines,  one  of  the  most 
highly  respected  citizens  of  that  city,  as  well 
as  a  most  distinguished  prelate  in  the  Afri 


can  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  together 
with  Mr.  W.  H.  Rucker,  called  incidentally 
upon  Mr.  Samuel  M.  Inman,  of  Atlanta,  a 
wealthy  philanthropic  citizen,  the  head  of 
the  greatest  cotton  house  in  the  world,  and 
suggested  to  him  what  a  unique  and  interest 
ing  feature  a  special  exhibit  of  Afro-Ameri 
can  progress  would  be  as  a  part  of  the  Fair. 
The  idea  was  well  received  by  Mr.  Inman 
and  further  attention  given  it  by  all  con 
cerned,  which  resulted  in  an  invitation  to  the 
colored  population  of  America,  the  South 
particularly,  to  take  a  part  in  the  fourth 
great  exposition  held  on  the  American  con 
tinent. 

A  Surprising  Spectacle. 

The  significance  of  the  invitation  is  seen 
when  the  striking  contrast  is  made  that  a 
people  who  thirty  years  ago,  in  ignorance 
and  dense  darkness,  were  upon  exhibition 
on  this  very  soil  as  slaves,  bartered  and  sold 
at  will,  are  in  less  than  three  decades  asked 
to  show  their  PROGRESS,  and  to  assist  in 
making  successful  a  great  exposition  by  ex 
hibiting  the  resources  of  the  country  in 
which  they  and  the  dominant  class  are  by 
implication  considered  common  factors. 

That  they  are  regarded  common  factors  is  , 
not  only  implied,  but  acknowledged,  as  may  ! 
be  seen  in  the  following  written  us  by  one  of 
the  most  wealthy  and  aristocratic  men  in  the 
South.     Says  he  :  "I  feel  the  greatest  inter 
est  in  the  development  of  your  people,  and 
especially  in  any  movement  which  tends  to 
make  the  white  and  colored  people  feel  that 

91 


92 


INTERNATIONAL    EXPOSITION. 


their  lot  has  been  cast  together  and  their  in 
terests  and  their  future  are  one." 

A  building  covering  25,000  square  feet,  to 


o 

- 

X 

W 


cost  $9,923,  with  no  charges  as  to  entrance 
or  rent  fees,  our  exhibits,  a  gift  of  $4,400, 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  our  Commissioners, 


a  salaried  Chief  of  the  Afro-American  Depart 
ment,  with  other  incidental  items,  were  the 
prerequisites  of  the  invitation  so  generously 
extended,  and  so  cordially  accepted 
by  the  Cotton  States  and  International 
Exposition  Company  and  the  colored 
people  respectively. 

The  race  was  expected  to  collect 
their  own  exhibits  and  raise  the  funds 
therefor,  as  a  substantial  evidence  of 
self-interest  and  self-help,  a  character 
so  much  desired  in  our  people.  For 
this  purpose  a  commission  of  gentle 
men  were  appointed  in  each  State, 
numbering  in  all  no  persons. 

Subsequently,  Chief  Commissioners 
were  appointed,  who  formed  a  Central 
Board,  which  constituted  the  legisla 
tive  power  in  the  management  of  the 
building.  On  January  19,  1895,  the 
Central  Board  met  in  Atlanta,  Ga.,  at 
Clark  University,  and  organized  by 
the  selection  of  Prof.  W.  H.  Crog- 
man,  of  Georgia,  Chairman,  and  I. 
Garland  Penn,  Virginia,  Secretary. 
Plans  for  the  collection  of  the  exhibits 
were  well  laid.  I.  Garland  Penn  was 
nominated  Chief  of  the  Afro-Ameri 
can  Department,  with  headquarters  in 
Atlanta,  at  a  salary  commensurate 
with  his  labors.  His  nomination  was 
unanimously  confirmed  by  the  Execu 
tive  Committee  of  the  Exposition  Com 
pany,  on  motion  of  ex-Mayor  and 
First  Vice-President  Colonel  W.  A. 
Hemphill,  Business  Manager  Atlanta 
Constitution. 

Exhibits  in  every  department  of 
Afro-American  progress  tell  their 
own  story — the  thrilling  story  of 
marvellous  advancement  in  education,  and 
all  that  belongs  to  the  highest  type  of  civi 
lization  and  refinement. 


PQ 


INTERNATIONAL   EXPOSITION. 


93 


The  impression  made  on  the  press  and 
people  of  Atlanta  by  the  Central  Board  of 
Chief  Commissioners  was  a  happy  recogni 
tion  of  the  race's  advancement  and  its  at 
tempt  to  surmount  difficulties,  scale  the 
mountains  of  disagreeable  environment  and 
triumph  in  the  light  of  civilization  and  pro 
gress.  The  Constitution  said,  editorially  ? 
January  20,  1895,  the  following: 

Doing  a  Good   Work. 

"  The  brainy  and  enterprising  colored 
commissioners  from  many  States  who  are 
now  in  Atlanta  perfecting  their  plans  for  a 
building  at  the  Exposition  to  be  filled  with 
exhibits  by  their  race  are  doing  a  good  work, 
and  they  are  the  right  men  in  the  right  place. 
Such  men  as  I.  Garland  Penn,  B.  T.  Wash 
ington,  Isaiah  Montgomery  and  W.  H.  Crog- 
man  and  the  other  commissioners  would  be 
prominent  and  useful  citizens  in  any  commu 
nity.  We  are  gratified  to  see  that  these 
progressive  leaders  of  their  race  recognize  the 
benefit  that  the  colored  people  will  derive 
from  the  Exposition  if  they  make  a  first-class 
exhibit.  This  is  the  only  opportunity  that 
they  have  ever  had  to  show  the  world  what 
they  have  learned  and  accomplished  in  thirty 
years  of  freedom,  and  they  should  make  the 
most  of  it. 

"  The  colored  people  of  the  country  now 
own  $300,000,000  worth  of  property.  They 
have  made  great  progress  in  the  arts  and 
sciences  and  in  the  learned  professions. 
When  we  judge  them,  not  from  the  heights 
on  which  we  stand,  but  from  the  depths  out 
of  which  they  have  risen,  we  must  admit  that 
they  have  made  a  fine  record.  These  peace 
able,  faithful,  intelligent  and  enterprising  peo 
ple  deserve  every  encouragement  from  their 
white  neighbors,  and  they  may  rest  assured 
that  their  exhibit  will  attract  as  much  atten 
tion  as  any  other  feature  of  the  Exposition. 


They  have  made  a  good  start  with  good 
men  at  the  head,  and  they  will  make  a  suc 
cess  of  their  exhibit." 

In  its  news  columns  of  the  same  date, 
putting  the  finishing  touches  on  the  work 
accomplished,  the  editor  wrote  to  greater 
satisfaction  than  he  knew.  Said  he  : 

"  There  was  a  notable  gathering  of  colored 
men  of  the  South  in  Atlanta,  Friday  and 
yesterday.  Some  of  the  finest  representa 
tives  of  the  race  were  present,  and  the  pur 
pose  of  the  meeting  was  to  take  in  charge 
the  important  work  of  collecting  from  all 
over  the  South  interesting  exhibits,  showing 
the  progress  and  condition  of  the  colored 
race  at  the  Exposition  to  be  held  here  this 
fall.  The  men  who  came  here  to  take 
charge  of  the  work  were  men  of  affairs 
among  the  Negroes  of  the  South.  Nearly 
every  man  among  them  has  some  large 
enterprise  in  hand,  and  the  purpose  by  which 
they  were  all  moved,  was  the  improvement 
and  elevation  of  their  people. 

A  Great  Feature  of  the  Exposition. 

"  Handled  by  such  able  men  this  credi 
table  effort  will  doubtless  prove  one  of  the 
most  interesting  features  of  the  Exposition. 
The  exhibit  will  be  interesting  because  of  its 
uniqueness  and  because  of  its  historical  value. 
Special  attention  is  to  be  given  to  the  ar 
rangements  of  the  exhibits  so  that  the  various 
stages  of  progress  of  the  race  may  be  illus 
trated  to  the  visitor.  It  was  a  gathering  of 
men  who  are  interesting  to  study,  men  who, 
by  reason  of  their  innate  force,  have  lifted 
themselves  from  lowly  estates  to  positions  of 
usefulness  and  promise." 

In  addition  to  the  organization  already 
referred  to,  several  travelling  commissioners 
were  appointed.  Notably  among  them  were 
H.  E.  Wilson,  Esq.,  of  Chicago,  and  Rev. 
B.  B.  Hill,  of  Oberlin,  Ohio.  The  complete 


94 


INTERNATIONAL   EXPOSITION. 


organization  thus  formed,  which  not  only 
had  the  entire  approval  of  the  press  of  the 
country,  but  the  people  as  well,  was  a 
decided  prophesy  that  the  race,  if  efficiently 
supported,  would  be  fittingly  and  worthily 
represented. 

It  was  estimated  that  the  collection  of  a 
creditable  exhibit  for  the  Exposition  meant 
an  outlay  of  fifty  or  sixty  thousand  dollars. 
That  the  people  have  given  this  is  best  seen 
by  the  exhibit  made  along  all  lines  and  ave 
nues  of  life  work.  It  shows  the  Afro- Ameri 
can  as  a  business  man,  as  a  mechanic,  an 
agriculturist,  an  inventor,  an  educator,  etc. 

All  Trades  and  Professions. 

As  a  business  man,  the  exhibit  shows  the 
banking  and  real  estate  interests,  boot  and 
shoe  interests,  druggists,  dry  goods,  hard 
ware  and  general  merchandise.  As  a  me 
chanic,  the  exhibit  shows  him  a  machinist, 
carpenter,  wheelwright,  cabinet-maker,  up 
holsterer,  inventor,  blacksmith,  stone  and 
brick  mason,  owner  and  maker  of  the  finest 
quality  of  bricks. 

As  an  agriculturist  it  proves  him  beyond 
doubt  the  bone  and  sinew  of  the  South.  As 
an  educator,  the  exhibit  proves  his  progress 
in  art,  science  and  literature.  His  paintings, 
decorations,  etc.,  in  the  exhibit  and  artistic 
needlework  of  the  women  of  the  race,  are  a 
proof  of  the  strides  he  has  made  from  the 
pit  in  which  he  found  himself  thirty  years 
ago  and  the  rock  from  which  he  has  been 
hewn.  As  a  scientist,  the  exhibit  shows  his 
knowledge  of  scientific  studies  and  discovery. 

From  an  intellectual  point  of  view  the  ex 
hibit  portrays  his  proficiency  in  drawing,  pen 
manship,  linguistic  studies  which  are  diffi 
cult,  and  his  knowledge  of  history,  ancient 
and  modern.  In  literature,  the  exhibit 


shows  that  he  has  put  upon  the  market  a 
creditable  array  of  books,  and  that  to  his 
credit  he  has  not  left  unchronicled  the  his 
tory  of  his  marvellous  progress,  since  in  the 
general  history  of  the  country,  of  which  he 
is  a  part,  he  is  neglected  and  allowed  no 
quarters. 

Having  given  the  history  of  the  movement 
and  the  exhibit  of  the  colored  people,  it  is  in 
no  sense  an  unwise  idea  to  let  the  reader 
know  why  the  Afro-American  is  happy  to 
make  such  a  display  of  his  progress. 

The    Reasons. 

He  has  always  been  patriotic,  ready  and 
willing  to  show  up  the  bright  side  of  his 
country;  thus  he  is  content  to  help  the 
South,  the  land  of  his  present  and  future 
abode. 

Thus  joining  hands  with  his  white  fellow- 
citizens  in  a  common  cause,  for  a  common 
end,  he  hopes  by  a  positive  proof  of  his 
interest  to  cultivate  friendly  relations  with 
the  South. 

He  hopes  that  the  logical  result  of  patri 
otism  and  interest  in  the  South  will  be  the 
placing  upon  the  statute  books  of  every 
State,  laws  against  lynching  and  mob  violence, 
and  the  erasure  of  such  laws  of  proscription 
as  are  directed  specifically  against  him. 

He  wishes  to  meet  and  contradict  a  pre 
valent  impression  that  he  has  not  made  the 
progress  claimed  for  him.  Such  an  impres 
sion  being  not  alone  in  his  own  country,  but 
in  all  lands,  the  opportunity  for  an  Inter 
national  view  of  his  progress  has  come  for 
the  first  time,  an  opportunity  which  he  is 
quite  aware  he  cannot  make  for  himself.  He 
desires,  as  it  were,  to  drive  the  nail  by  an 
exhibition  of  his  progress  under  trying  cir 
cumstances,  and  clinch  it  at  the  same  time. 


NOTED  AFRO-AMERICAN  WOMEN 
AND  THEIR  ACHIEVEMENTS. 


WHENEVER  women  have    had 
good    opportunities    for   self- 
improvement,      they      have 
shown  themselves  the  equals, 
in  many  respects,  of  those  who  are  dignified 
by  the  title  of  "the  stronger  sex."     Some  of 
the    brightest    minds,     many    of   the    best 
scholars,  many  who  are  conferring  rich  lustre 
upon  the  Afro-American  name,  are  women. 

It  would  be  impossible  within  the  compass 
of  this  volume  to  give  sketches  and  narrate 
the  proud  achievements  of  all  who  have  dis 
tinguished  themselves  as  teachers,  musicians, 
readers,  journalists  and  correspondents, 
authors  and  business  managers,  or  who,  as 
wives  and  mothers,  have  made  the  home  a 
sacred  place,  and  have  planted  seeds  of  the 
noblest  character  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of 
the  rising  generation. 

Only  a  limited  number  of  examples  can 
be  given,  sufficient  to  indicate  what  our 
women  can  accomplish.  And  it  must 
steadily  be  borne  in  mind  that  these,  and  all 
other  similar  examples,  are  furnished  as  an 
encouragement  and  impulse  to  our  colored 
people,  that  they  may  be  urged  on  to  make 
the  most  of  themselves  and  obtain  a  position 
and  influence  equal  to  their  capabilities. 

Although  uneducated  and  poor,  Afro- 
American  women  have  been  large  hearted 
and  ambitious.  The  first  five  dollars  that 
was  given  to  the  Lincoln  Monument,  was 
given  by  Charlotte  Cushman,  an  ex-slave. 
The  spirit  of  kindness  and  self-denial  that 
animated  the  bosom  of  our  women,  when 
during  the  war  they  divided  their  crusts  and 


clothes  with  the  Union  soldiers,  and  caused 
them  to  hide  the  soldiers  at  the  risk  of  their 
own  lives,  seemed  a  part  of  their  natures. 

Generosity  is  a  characteristic  of  our 
women.  Rarely  indeed  does  an  appeal  for 
help,  coming  from  any  source  fall  unheeded 
upon  their  ears.  Out  of  their  poverty,  they 
give  largely,  and  no  class  of  women  on  the 
globe  excel  them  in  benevolence. 

Self-Sacrificing   Mothers. 

Left  penniless  at  the  close  of  the  war, 
many  of  them  with  large  families  dependent 
upon  them,  instead  of  wringing  their  hands 
in  despair,  they  went  cheerfully  forward  to 
build  homes,  to  educate  their  children  and  if 
possible  to  lay  by  a  bit  for  a  rainy  day. 
Like  the  mother  of  the  late  Dr.  Simmons, 
many  of  our  women  toiled  both  early  and 
late  at  the  washtub  in  order'  that  their  chil 
dren  might  have  the  intellectual  training  of 
which  they  themselves  had  been  so  unjustly 
deprived. 

And  how  proud  of  these  mothers  should 
these  children  be,  and  how  grateful  for  the 
many  sacrifices  that  have  been  made  for 
them.  Every  wrinkle  in  the  dear  old  face 
should  be  regarded  as  a  thing  of  beauty, 
and  it  should  be  the  aim  of  their  after  lives 
to  make  life  pleasant  for  their  parents.  But 
to  return,  by  their  frugality  and  labors  their 
husbands  were  able  to  purchase  homes,  those 
who  desired  to  do  so,  and  to  contribute 
largely  to  the  cause  of  the  Gospel  and  of 
education.  Many  of  these  noble  women  are 
dead  now,  but  their  memory  is  yet  green  and 

95 


06 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


their  children  rise  up  and  call  them  blessed. 
What  can  we  say  of  our, progress  to  con 
vince  skeptical  friends,  black  and  white,  that 
our  women  are  deserving  of  credit  ?  We 
will  touch  briefly  upon  their  relation  with 
the  religious  world. 

What  would  be  the  condition  of  the 
churches  Cvf  all  races  and  denominations,  if 
the  women  tvere  to  withdraw  their  moral 
and  financial  support  ?  The  result  is  fright 
ful  to  contemplate  !  Our  women  seem  pecu 
liarly  adapted  to  church  work,  in  fact  for 
benevolent  work  of  any  nature. 

Generous    Helpers. 

It  is  the  women  in  our  churches  who  assist 
the  perplexed  pastor  in  devising  plans  for 
the  annihilation  of  burdensome  church  debts, 
and  who  assume  the  charge  of  clothing  the 
pastor  and  his  needy  family  in  a  little  purple 
and  fine  linen  occasionally ;  who  prepare  at 
home,  little  feasts  and  invite  this  everyday 
hero,  that  he  may  fare  sumptuously  at  least 
one  day  out  of  the  seven,  and  who  often  seem 
to  their  pastor  angels  in  disguise. 
1  By  organizing  themselves  into  aid  socie 
ties,  known  as  King's  Daughters,  Gleaners, 
Women's  Christian  Temperance  Union,  Ep- 
worth  League,  Baptist  Union  and  Christian 
Bndeavorers,  they  have  been  able  to  do  much 
good.  It  is  often  seen  in  the  columns  of 
our  race  journals,  that  in  various  places  our 
women  have  raised  immense  sums  for  the 
erection  or  renovation  of  churches  or  for 
some  Christian  enterprise.  One  women's 
organization  known  as  the  "  Women's  Mite 
Missionary  Society  of  the  A.  M.  E.  Church" 
raised  $1,525.46  during  one  year 

Also  we  have  a  female  Evangelist,  Mrs. 
Amanda  Smith,  who  has  travelled  exten 
sively  and  who  has  already  published  a 
book,  relating  her  experiences  in  the  Old 
and  New  World.  There  are  missionaries 


living  who  have  immortalized  their  names 
by  their  zeal  in  carrying  the  Gospel  to 
heathen  Africa,  women  brave  and  true,  like 
Mrs.  Riclgel  who  accompanied  her  husband 
to  Africa  and  succeeded  in  opening  up  a 
girl's  school  and  who  has  written  such  inter 
esting  letters  home  to  us. 

Let  us  now  take  a  bird's  eye  view  of  Afro- 
American  women  in  educational  lines. 

Religion  and  education  are  closely  allied. 
Under  this  head  we  will  for  the  sake  of 
brevity  consider  education  in  its  broadest 
sense — that  is  the  mental  development  of  all 
the  faculties.  We  will  first  speak  of  that 
class  of  women  who  are  known  as  business 
women. 

Capacity  for  Business. 

It  has  been  asserted  by  the  enemies  of  the 
Afro-American  race,  that  their  women  have 
no  business  capacity.  But  what  are  the  facts 
of  the  case?  In  almost  every  avenue  of 
business,  our  women  are  rapidly  becoming 
engaged  and  where  they  are  not,  is  due  to 
predjudice  rather  than  incompetence. 

The  Dinahs  and  Chloes  of  ante-bellum 
days,  who  were  then  justly  noted  for  their 
exquisite  cookery,  have  bequeathed  to  their 
descendants  a  talent  for  cooking,  which  when 
cultivated,  is  hard  to  be  excelled  by  the  most 
accomplished  English  or  French  Chefs. 
Besides  those  who  command  good  salaries 
as  cooks  in  public  and  private  establishments, 
there  are  those  who  are  engaged  in  manag 
ing  hotels,  boarding-houses,  restaurants  and 
catering  establishments  upon  their  own 
accounts. 

In  New  Orleans,  there  are  Afro-American 
women,  who  earn  a  fair  living  by  selling 
through  the  streets,  bread,  fruits,  cakes  and 
pies.  It  is  impossible  to  enumerate  the  vast 
number  who  have  purchased  homes,  yes, 
have  become  owners  of  snug  fortunes  by 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


doing  laundry  work,  this  never  failing 
resource  and  almost  universal  occupation  of 
the  laboring  class  of  our  women.  Instead 
of  scorning  this  useful  occupation,  they  have 
embraced  it  as  a  friend  and  through  its  aid 
have  realized  many  cherished  dreams. 

They  made  the  foaming  washtub 

With  honest  labor  ring, 
And  in  its  soapy  contents, 

Saw  many  a  precious  thing. 

Another  profitable  employment  for  our 
women  is  that  of  sewing.  The  women  who 
as  slaves  so  artistically  fashioned  and  draped 
the  silken  garments  of  their  mistresses,  now 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  their  daughters 
succeeding  in  life  as  dressmakers,  owning 
elegantly  appointed  shops,  and  receiving  the 
best  of  prices  for  their  work. 

Talent  for  Fancy  Work. 

Besides  dressmakers  there  are  hundreds 
who  sew  by  the  day,  earning  from  fifty  cents 
to  $2.00  per  day,  according  to  the  quality  of 
their  work.  There  are  others  who  earn  con 
siderable  by  doing  artistic  needle  work,  or 
fancy  work,  as  some  call  it.  As  in  every 
other  trade,  we  find  that  the  most  competent 
receive  the  best  pay,  for  there  is  always 
"  room  at  the  top."  There  was  never  a 
period  in  our  history  when  our  dress 
makers  were  patronized  by  the  women  of 
the  race  as  liberally  as  they  deserved  to  be, 
but  this  ungenerous  spirit  is  being  displaced 
by  one  of  sweet  helpfulness,  and  our  dress 
makers  are  better  appreciated  by  both  Afro- 
American  and  white  women.  Besides,  there 
are  women  who  are  clerks,  barbers,  dealers 
in  second-hand  clothing  and  in  various  kinds 
of  merchandise. 

In  the  face  of  these  facts  who  shall  dare 

assert   that    our  women    have    no    business 

capacity  ?     Verily  it  doth  appear  that  their 

ability  exceeds  their  opportunity.     What  our 

G 


business  women  need  most  is  our  cordial 
support  in  every  way  and  when  they  obtain 
it  they  will  create  a  place  for  themselves  in 
the  business  world  that  shall  win  the 
admiration  of  all.  In  addition  to  that  which 
they  have  done  already,  it  is  encouraging  to 
note  that  they  are  taking  the  lead  in  forming 
co-operative  associations  for  the  establish 
ment  of  banks,  stores,  and  industrial  training 
schools.  God  bless  our  business  women; 
and  may  their  number  increase  daily. 

When  we  come  to  musicians  we  are  com 
pelled  to  look  here  and  there  and  select  out 
of  the  great  number  of  really  meritorious 
musicians  whom  we  know. 

As  a  singer  and  as  a  teacher  of  vocal  and 
instrumental  music,  Miss  Nellie  Brown  Mit 
chell,  a  graduate  of  the  New  England  Con 
servatory  of  Music,  ranks  very  high.  Miss 
Mitchell  was  for  two  years  at  the  head  of  the 
department  of  vocal  music  at  Redding  Acad 
emy,  New  Hampshire,  where  all  of  the  pupils 
were  white.  Madame  Sisseretta  Jones,  the 
black  Patti,  whose  voice  in  some  elements  is 
said  to  rival  that  of  Adelina  Patti,  is  un 
doubtedly,  if  all  press  comments  are  true,  the 
greatest  female  singer  of  the  race.  When 
Madame  Jones  appears  in  public,  she  wears 
upon  her  breast  medals  that  have  been  be 
stowed  upon  her  by  foreign  countries.  This 
gifted  creature  of  song  travels  under  the 
management  of  Major  Pond,  who  also  con 
tracts  engagements  for  nearly  all  the  white 
notables  in  the  lecture  field. 

We  take  pleasure  in  furnishing  sketches 
of  a  few  who  have  distinguished  themselves 
in  the  musical  world. 

MRS.  C.  A.  JOHNSON. 

This  gifted  lady  was  born  in  Ironton,  in 
1868,  and  graduated  from  the  Ironton  High 
School  in  1886.  Her  maiden  name  was 
Reynolds.  She  married  C.  A.  Johnson  in 


98 


NOTED    AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


MRS.  C.  A.  JOHNSON. 

1886,  after  graduation,  her  husband  being  a 
teacher  in  the  public  schools  of  that  city.  In 
1887  she  went  to  Missouri  where  she  became 
the  assistant  teacher  with  her  husband. 

She  is  a  proficient  scholar  in  music  and  is 
a  teacher  of  music  in  Washington,  D.  C. 
Mrs.  Johnson  has  quite  a  talent  for  literature 
and  has  contributed  several  papers.  She  is 
noted  for  her  remarkable  beauty. 

MRS.  CORA  L.  BURGAN. 

This  accomplished  lady  was  educated  in 
the  Detroit  public  schools  and  is  a  graduate 
of  one  of  the  leading  musical  conservatories 
of  America.  She  comes  of  a  musical  family, 
her  relatives  having  been  musicians  for  sev 
eral  generations. 


For  a  number  of  years  she 
taught  music  in  the  Texas  Blind 
Asylum  for  Colored  Youth,  and 
is  distinguished  as  the  first  Afro- 
American  who  was  offered  a 
position  in  that  institution.  She 
was  married  to  I.  M.  Burgan  in 
1889,  and  became  a  teacher  in- 
the  Paul  Quinn  College.  She  is 
a  pleasing  and  courteous  woman 
and  takes  great  interest  in  the 
elevation  and  culture  of  her  race. 

MISS    GERTRUDE   JANET 
\  WASHINGTON. 

Miss  Gertrude  Janet  Washing 
ton  (pianist),  was  born  in   Chi 
cago  in  1873,  her  family  being 
!     v  '  one  of  the  oldest  Afro-Ameri- 

•   can  families  of  this  city.     At  a 
very  early  age  Miss  Washington 
showed  a  remarkable  talent  for 
the  piano  and  her  mother,  wish 
ing  to  have  it  cultivated,  engaged 
the  best  German   professors  to 
teach  her  little  daughter  to  play. 
At  the  age  of  fourteen  Miss  Washington 
began  a  course  at  the  Chicago  Musical  Col 
lege  under  Doctor  Ziegfeld,  and  at  the  age  of 


- 

MRS.  CORA  L.  BURGAN. 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


99 


seventeen  received  her  teacher's  certificate  ; 
at  nineteen  received  her  diploma  from  the 
same  college.  Miss  Washington's  musical 
ability  is  not  limfted  to  the  piano,  but  she  is 
also  a  very  brilliant  organist  and  has  played 
in  the  various  Afro-American  churches  since 
she  was  nine  years  of  age,  and  has  had 
entire  charge  of  different  organs  since  she 
was  eleven. 

Miss  Washington  has  distinguished  her 
self  as  a  complete  master  of  the  piano  on 
various  occasions,  having  played  in  the  Man 
hattan  Building  at  the  World's  Fair,  New 
York  Day,  before  thousands  of  people,  the 
Lady  Managers  of  the  Ohio  Building  being 
so  charmed  with  her  playing  that  they  gave 
her  a  special  invitation  to  play  for  them,  and 
aftei  wards  tendered  her  an  invitation  to  lunch 
with  them. 

An  Accomplished  Pianist. 

Miss  Washington  has  played  for  almost 
all  the  principal  singers  and  musicians  of  the 
race  and  always  with  success.  Prof.  Dede, 
the  great  French  violinist,  and  the  greatest 
musical  Negro,  said  that  Miss  Washington 
was  the  only  lady  he  had  met  in  America 
who  could  play  his  high  grade  of  music 
correctly. 

Miss  Washington  has  never  travelled,  be 
cause  she  firmly  believes  that  one  should 
have  a  thoroughly  established  reputation 
at  home  before  going  abroad. 

Many  other  distinguished  vocalists  and 
musicians  might  be  mentioned,  among  them 
the  charming  soprano,  Madam  Desseria 
Plato,  the  prima  donna  who  sang  at  the 
World's  Fair,  and  elicited  from  all  hearers  the 
highest  encomiums.  She  has  a  clear,  well 
modulated  voice  of  great  compass  and  power, 
which  gives  evidence  of  patient  cultivation, 
and  is  capable  of  expressing  every  grade  of 
emotion  and  sentiment. 


Coming  now  to  journalism,  we  enter  a 
field  where  many  Afro-American  women 
have  displayed  marked  talent.  Our  writers 
are  gifted  and  successful. 

MISS  IDA  B.  WELLS. 

Perhaps  no  woman  of  our  race  is  more 
widely  known  or  more  influential  than  Miss 
•Wells.  Her  connection  with  "  The  Society 
for  the  Recognition  of  the  Brotherhood  of  * 
Man,"  the  large  share  she  had  in  founding 
this  organization,  and  her  very  successful 
efforts  in  awakening  an  anti-lynching  public 
sentiment  both  in  this  country  and  in  Eng- 


Miss  GERTRUDE  J.  WASHINGTON. 

land  have  made  her  name  famous  on  both 
sides  of  the  Atlantic. 

The  following  sketch  is  taken  from  The 
Afro-American  Press,  and  furnishes  some 
interesting  facts  connected  with  her  remarka 
ble  career : 

That  "perseverance  overcomes  all  obsta 
cles,"  is  fully  verified  in  the  life  and  character 
of  Miss  I.  B.  Wells,  who  was  born  at  Holly 
Springs,  Ark.,  and  reared  and  educated 
there.  Her  parents  died  while  she  was 
attending  Rust  University,  which  compelled 
her  to  leave  school  in  order  that  she  might 
support  her  five  brothers  and  sisters. 


100 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


She  taught  her  first  school  at  the  age  of 
fourteen,  and  with  this  work  and  journalism 
she  has  been  an  incessant  laborer.  She  has 
taught  in  the  schools  of  Arkansas  and 
Tennessee,  and  has  at  various  times  been 
offered  like  positions  elsewhere ;  but  prefer 
ring  to  teach  her  people  in  the  South,  she 
has  continued  to  labor  there.  For  six  years 
she  followed  her  vocation  as  teacher  in  the 
City  of  Memphis. 

During  this  time  she  began  to  write  for  the 
press.  Her  first  article  was  a  "  write-up,"  at 
the  request  of  the  editor,  of  a  suit  for 
damages,  in  which  she  was  the  complainant. 
This  paper  was  The  Living  Way,  which  she 
contributed  to  for  the  space  of  two  years. 
This  engagement  introduced  her  to  the  news 
paper  fraternity  as  a  writer  of  superb  ability, 
and  therefore  demands  for  her  services  began 
to  come  in. 

Carries  a  Pointed  Pen. 

T.  Thomas  Fortune,  after  meeting  her, 
wrote  as  follows  :  "  She  has  become  famous 
as  one  of  the  few  of  our  women  who  handle 
a  goose-quill,  with  diamond  point,  as  easily 
as  any  man  in  the  newspaper  work.  If  '  lola ' 
were  a  man,  she  would  be  a  humming  inde 
pendent  in  politics.  She  has  plenty  of  nerve, 
and  is  as  sharp  as  a  steel  trap." 

She  has  been  the  regular  correspondent  of 
The  Detroit  Plaindealer,  Christian  Index  and 
The  People's  Choice.  She  is  also  part  owner 
and  editor  of  The  Memphis  Free  Speech  and 
Head  Light,  and  editress  of  the  "  Home  " 
department  of  Our  Women  and  Children,  of 
which  Dr.  William  J.  Simmons  was  publisher. 
Decidedly,  "lola"  is  a  great  success  in  jour 
nalism,  and  we  can  but  feel  proud  of  a 
woman  whose  ability  and  energy  serves  to 
make  her  so. 

She  is  popular  with  all  the  journalists  of 
Afro-American  connection,  as  will  be  seen  by 


her  election  as  assistant  secretary  of  the 
National  Afro- American  Press  Convention,  at 
Louisville,  and  her  unanimous  election  as 
secretary  of  the  Press  Convention,  which 
met  at  Washington,  D.  C.,  March  4,  1889. 
Miss  Lucy  W.  Smith  says  of  her :  Miss 
Ida  B.  Wells,  "lola,"  has  been  called  the 
"Princess  of  the  Press,"  and  she  has  well 
earned  the  title.  No  writer,  the  male 
fraternity  not  excepted,  has  been  more 
extensively  quoted;  none  struck  harder 
blows  at  the  wrongs  and  weaknesses  of  the 
race. 

A  Most  Successful  Journalist. 

Miss  Wells'  readers  are  equally  divided 
between  the  sexes.  She  reaches  the  men 
by  dealing  with  the  political  aspect  of  the 
race  question,  and  the  women  she  meets 
around  the  fireside.  She  is  an  inspiration  tc 
the  young  writers,  and  her  success  has  lent 
an  impetus  to  their  ambition.  When  the 
National  Press  Convention,  of  which  she  was 
assistant  secretary,  met  in  Louisville,  she 
read  a  splendidly  written  paper  on  "Women 
in  Journalism;  or,  How  I  would  Edit." 

By  the  way,  it  is  her  ambition  to  edit  a 
paper.  She  believes  there  is  no  agency  so 
potent  as  the  press,  in  reaching  and  elevating 
a  people.  Her  contributions  are  distributed 
among  the  leading  race  journals.  She  made 
her  debut  with  The  Living  Way  (Memphis, 
Tenn.),  and  has  since  written  for  The  New 
York  Age,  Detroit  Plaindealer,  Indianapolis 
World,  Gate  City  Press  (Mo.),  Little  Rock  Sun, 
American  Baptist  (Ky.),  Memphis  Watchman, 
Chattanooga  Justice,  Christian  Index,  Fisk 
University  Herald  (Tenn.),  Our  Women  and 
Children  Magazine  (Ky.),  and  the  Memphis 
papers,  weeklies  and  dailies.  Miss  Wells 
has  attained  much  success  as  a  teacher  in 
the  public  schools  of  the  last-named  place. 

When  Miss  Wells  owned  an  interest  in 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


101 


The  Mempltis  Free  Speech  an  article  appeared 
in  May,  1892,  that  gave  offense  to  a  preju 
diced  public.  By  a  mob  the  newspaper 
plant  was  destroyed  and  the  two  male  editors 
were  forced  to  flee  for  their  lives.  She  was 
warned  at  Philadelphia  not  to  return,  as  her 
life  would  be  in  danger. 

She  began  lecturing  on  the  wrongs  in 
flicted  upon  her  race  and,  as  already  stated, 
in  this  country  and  Great  Britain  she  plead 
the  cause  of  her  people  with  marked  ability 
and  success.  The  most  influential  people  in 
many  of  our  cities  and  throughout  England 
and  Scotland  gave  her  their  support,  anti- 
lynching  organizations  were  formed,  and 
valiant  efforts  have  been  put  forth  to  secure 
justice  for  the  black  man. 

Galaxy  of  Bright  Women. 

Other  women  have  also  gained  high  rank 
as  writers  and  authors.  It  seems  almost 
incredible  that  after  so  short  a  period  of 
freedom,  there  are  Afro- American  women 
serving  on  the  staff  of  prominent  white  jour 
nals,  as  Miss  Lillian  Lewis,  of  Massachusetts, 
and  writing  stories  for  -magazines  like  Har 
per  s  and  Frank  Leslie's  Magazines,  but  true 
nevertheless,  and  in  Mrs.  Matthews,  better 
known  as  "  Victoria  Earle,"  we  have  a  writer 
who  writes  for  the  Family  Story  Paper  and 
•»ther  fiction  papers.  The  number  of  women 
who  contribute  poems,  essays  and  stories  to 
race  magazines  is  already  large,  and  it  is 
being  constantly  increased. 

Three  of  our  best  poetesses  are  wives  of 
clergymen.  Mrs.  M.  E.  Lee  is  the  wife  of 
an  A.  M.  E.  Bishop.  She  is  a  writer  of  cul 
tured  verse  that  is  eagerly  read.  A  number 
of  her  poems  have  appeared  in  the  Christian 
Recorder.  Mrs.  Charlotte  F.  Grimke,  the 
author  of  a  number  of  beautiful  poems 
which  are  universally  admired,  is  the  wife  of 
a  Presbyterian  clergyman.  Mrs.  Frances 


Harper  writes  both  poetry  and  prose  of  the 
best  type  and  has  published  two  books  of 
poems,  "Forest  Leaves"  and  "Southern 
Sketches." 

Mrs.  Josie  Heard,  also  the  wife  of  a  clergy 
man  of  the  A.  M.  E.  connection,  is  a  poetess 
of  great  merit.  Miss  Cordelia  Ray  is  the 
author  of  a  volume  of  poems  entitled  "Son 
nets,"  that  are  highly  spoken  of  by  the  press 
and  Miss  Virgie  Whitsett,  of  Iowa,  and  Miss 
Mamie  Fox,  of  Ohio,  are  rapidly  winning 
their  way  to  fame  as  writers  of  good  and 
original  poetry. 

Weil-Known  Authors. 

Then  we  have  women  who  have  published 
original  stories.  Mrs.  Matthews  has  written 
a  charming  Southern  story  entitled  "  Aunt 
Linda,"  and  Mrs.  Harper  has  given  to  the 
world  "  lola  Leroy,  or  Shadows  Uplifted,"  a 
story  treating  of  the  Race  Problem.  Mrs. 
A.  E.  Johnson  has  published  two  of  her^ 
stories  in  book  form,  and  Mrs.  Cooper, 
author  of  "A  Voice  from  the  South,"  is 
said  to  have  produced  the  best  book  ever 
written  by  a  colored  man  on  his  race. 

In  this  field  the  work  of  our  women  is 
barely  begun.  With  their  vivid  imaginations 
and  quickness  of  perception,  they  are 
destined  to  fill  an  important  place  in  the 
ranks  of  the  literati  of  this  land.  But  we 
will  have  to  prepare  for  the  work  even  as 
others  have  had  to  prepare  for  it.  Literature 
has  its  attendant  drudgery  just  as  is  found  in 
other  professions.  Non  palma  sine  pulvere, 
no  palms  without  dust,  no  crowns  without 
crosses,  is  as  true  of  literature  as  of  other 
things.  In  coming  days  Afro-American 
women  who  faithfully  portray  the  lights  and 
shadows  of  our  own  life  will  receive  better 
compensation,  for  then  their  work  will  be 
appreciated. 

As  the  name  of  Mrs.  Matthews  has  just 


-02 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


been   mentioned,  the  reader  will  appreciate 
the  following  sketch  of  this  gifted  authoress  • 

MRS.  W.  E.  MATTHEWS. 

This  successful  journalist  and  author  was 
born  at  Fort  Valley,  Ga.,  May  27,  1861. 
By  reason  of  the  cruelty  and  outrage 
of  those  times,  her  mother,  Mrs.  Caroline 
Smith,  was  forced  to  seek  refuge  in  the 
North.  She  went  to  New  York,  and  after  a 
few  years  returned  to  her  four  children  in 
the  South,  legally  freed  them  and  took  them 
with  her  to  her  adopted  home. 

Here  by  constant  work  and  diligent  study 
she  succeeded  in  educating  her  family.  Mrs. 


MRS.  W.  E.  MATTHEWS. 

Matthews,  thus  early  taught  the  value  of 
constant  application,  has  by  perseverance 
succeeded  in  writing  her  way  into  the  hearts 
of  the  American  public.  She  has  written 
for  many  of  the  leading  periodicals  both 
under  the  management  of  white  and  Afro- 
American  editors.  Among  those  to  which 
*  she  has  contributed  we  mention  the  New 
York  Times,  Herald,  Mail,  Express,  National 
Leader,  Detroit  Plaindealer  and  many  Afro- 
American  weeklies.  She  is  a  very  busy 
woman  and  finds  great  delight  in  the  pursuit 
of  her  chosen  avocation. 

She    is    an    influential    member    of    the 
Woman's    National    Press   Association   and 


occupies  a  position  in  the  literary  world 
which  should  be  the  pride  of  every  member 
of  the  race.  Her  ability  has  not  stopped  at 
stories  and  sketches,  but  embraces  several 
text-books  and  school  literature. 

MRS.  KATIE  CHAPMAN  DAVIS. 

Mrs.  Davis  wrote  her  first  poem  at  the 
tender  age  of  thirteen  and  entitled  it  "The 
Dying  Child."  Since  then  she  has  written 
stories  and  poems  for  leading  papers.  Many 
of  her  poems  were  published  in  The  Appeal. 
She  was  educated  in  the  public  schools  of 


MRS.  KATIE  CHAPMAN  DAVIS. 

Louisville  and  the  State  University  of  that 
city. 

She  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  most 
gifted  women  of  her  race,  possessing  rare 
mental  endowments,  fine  imagination  and 
excellent  command  of  language. 

MRS.  N.  F.  MOSSELL. 

To  every  reader  of  Afro-American  jour 
nals  the  above  name  is  familiar.  Beginning 
as  a  journalist  when  quite  young,  Mrs.  Mos- 
sell  has,  for  many  years,  continually  written 
for  our  race  journals,  and  reported  for  the 
foremost  white  papers  in  Philadelphia.  Her 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


103 


first  article,  an  essay  on  "  Influence,"  was 
published  by  Bishop  B.  T.  Tanner  in  The 
Christian  Recorder  when  she  was  a  mere 
school  girl ;  and  up  to  the  present  day  she 
has  written  essays,  poems,  short  stories,  and 
race  sketches,  which  have  been  published  far 
and  near. 

She  was  especially  sought  for,  and  as 
sumed  the  position  of  editor  of  the  woman's 
department  of  The  New  York  Freeman  and 
The  Philadelphia  Echo.  While  engaged  upon 
these  papers  she  also  reported  for  The  Phila 
delphia  Press  and  The  Times,  two  of  the  most 
widely  circulated  papers  in  the  country.  She 
has  been  upon  the  staff  of  correspondents  of 
The  Indianoplis  Freeman,  The  Richmond  Ran- 
kin  Institute,  and  Our  Women  and  Children. 
Though  a  regular  contributor  to  these  papers 
she  nevertheless  writes  for  other  race  jour 
nals,  from  the  great  A .  M.  E.  Review  to  the 
smallest  paper  published. 

Mrs.  Mossell  has  selected  journalism  as 
her  profession,  believing,  as  she  expressed 
herself  once,  that  the  future  of  women,  especi 
ally  of  Afro-American  women,  is  pn  this  line 
of  literary  work.  In  her  writings  she  deals 
particularly  with  the  women  and  the  Afro- 
American  race  as  a  whole.  She  is  alive  to 
all  the  interests  of  our  race ;  and  since  jour 
nalism  is  her  mission,  she  is  ever  on  the  alert 
to  ascertain  some  way  in  which  to  make  it  a 
success. 

Mrs.  Mossell  is  the  author  of  an  excellent 
book  entitled,  "The  Work  of  the  Afro- 
American  Woman," 

MISS  PHYLLIS  WHEATLEY. 

This  remarkable  colored  girl  was  brought, 
in  1 76 1 ,  on  a  slave  ship  from  Africa  to  the 
Boston  slave  market,  and  purchased  by  Mrs. 
John  Wheatley,  a  benevolent  and  cultured 
lady.  When  bought  she  was  naked  except 
a  piece  of  dirty  carpet  around  her  loins.  She 


was  thin  and  sick  from  a  rough,  tedious  sea 
voyage,  for  her  constitution  was  delicate  at 
best.  Impressed  by  her  intelligent  counte 
nance  and  modest  demeanor,  she  was  selected 
from  a  large  number  of  slaves. 

She  learned  easily  and  early  developed  a 
remarkable  taste  and  talent  for  poetry,  being 
in  reality  the  first  poet  of  the  colored  race  of 
whom  we  have  any  knowledge.  Her  mis 
tress,  or  rather  adopted  mother,  for  such  she 
proved  to  be,  sent  her  on  a  voyage  to  Eng 
land  in  the  hope  of  benefiting  her  health, 
which  was  not  robust. 

A  Remarkable  Character. 

Her  poems  were  first  published  in  Boston 
in  1/70.  But  her  admiring  friends  prevailed 
upon  her  to  bring  out  a  second  and  better 
edition  in  London  in  1773.  This  was  a 
small  octavo  volume  of  about  one  hundred 
and  twenty  pages,  comprising  thirty-nine 
pieces.  It  was  dedicated  to  the  Countess  of 
Huntingdon,  and  contained  a  picture  of  the 
poetess,  and  a  letter  of  recommendation 
signed  by  the  Governor  and  Lieutenant-Gov- 
nor  of  Massachusetts,  with  many  other  relia 
ble  citizens  of  Boston,  including  her  master, 
establishing  the  fact  that  all  the  poems  con 
tained  in  the  book  were  written  by  Phyllis. 
For  the  poems  were  so  excellent,  strangers 
were  disposed  to  question  their  originality. 

She  was  certainly  one  of  the  most  remark 
able  characters  in  history.  Her  life  reads 
more  like  a  romance  than  the  statement  of 
historical  facts.  From  a  condition  of  nudity 
in  a  slave  ship  she  worked  her  way  up  until 
she  conquered  the  social  caste  of  Boston  and 
London,  and  in  fact  of  two  continents. 

George  W.  Williams  says  of  her,  "  She 
addressed  a  poem  to  General  Washington 
that  pleased  the  old  warrior  very  much.  We 
have  never  seen  it,  though  we  have  searched 
diligently." 


104 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


Mr.  Sparks  says  of  it,  in  his  Life  of  Wash 
ington,  "  I  have  not  been  able  to  find  among 
Washington's  papers  this  letter  and  poem 
addressed  to  him.  They  have  doubtless 
been  lost." 

Thus  we  see  a  distinguished  biographer, 
and  no  less  distinguished  historian,  both 
searched  diligently  for  the  poem  and  their 
conclusions  were  that  it  had  "  doubtless  been 
lost."  But  we  are  glad  to  inform  our  read 
ers  that  the  poem  in  question  was  "  not  lost, 
but  gone  before,"  to  the  publisher  ;  sent  by 
Washington  himself.  We  shall  give  it  in  full 
but  will  first  quote  two  letters  germane  to  it. 

Letter  From  General  Washington. 

"  CAMBRIDGE,  February  28,  1776. 
Miss  PHYLLIS  : — Your  favor  of  the  26th 
of  October  did  not  reach  my  hands  till  the 
middle  of  December.  Time  enough,  you 
will  say,  to  have  given  an  answer  ere  this. 
Granted.  But  a  variety  of  important  occur 
rences,  continually  interposing  to  distract  the 
mind  and  withdraw  the  attention,  I  hope  will 
apologize  for  the  delay,  and  plead  my  excuse 
for  seeming  neglect.  I  thank  you  most  sin 
cerely  for  your  polite  notice  of  me,  in  the 
elegant  lines  enclosed  ;  and  however  unde 
serving  I  may  be  of  such  encomium  and 
panegyric,  the  style  and  manner  exhibit  a 
striking  proof  of  your  poetical  talents  ;  in 
honor  of  which,  and  as  a  tribute  justly  due 
to  you,  I  would  have  published  the  poem, 
had  I  not  been  apprehensive,  that  while  I 
only  meant  to  give  the  world  this  new  in 
stance  of  your  genius,  I  might  have  incurred 
the  imputation  of  vanity.  This  and  nothing 
else,  determined  me  not  to  give  it  place  in  the 
public  prints. 

"  If  you  should  ever  come  to  Cambridge, 
or  near  headquarters,  shall  be  happy  to  see  a 
person  so  favored  by  the  Muses,  and  to  whom 
nature  has  been  so  liberal  and  beneficent  in 


her  dispensations.  I  am,  with  great  respect, 
your  obedient,  humble  servant, 

"  GEORGE  WASHINGTON." 

This  is  about  the  kind  of  a  letter  we  would 
expect  from  a  man  who  was  noble  enough  to 
emancipate  his  own  slaves,  that  they  mightf 
enjoy  that  liberty  for  which  he  imperilled  his 
life. 

The  following  letter  accompanied  the  poem, 
dedicated  to  Washington  just  before  he  took 
command  of  the  Continental  army  : 

"  GENERAL  WASHINGTON,  Sir : — 

"  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  address  your 
excellency  in  the  enclosed  poem,  and  entreat 
your  acceptance,  though  I  am  not  insensible 
to  its  inaccuracies.  Your  appointment  by 
the  Continental  Congress  to  be  Generalissimo 
of  the  armies  of  North  America,  tog-ether  with 

7         o 

the  fame  of  your  virtues,  excites  sensations 
not  easy  to  suppress.  Your  generosity,  there 
fore,  I  presume,  will  pardon  the  attempt. 

"  Wishing  your  excellency  all  possible  suc 
cess  in  the  great  cause  you  are  so  generously 
engaged  in,  I  am  your  excellency's  most 
obedient,  humble  servant, 

"  PHYLLIS  WHEATLEY. 
"  Providence,  October  26,  1775." 

His  Excellency,  General  Washington. 

"  Celestial  choir  !  enthroned  in  realms  of  light, 
Columbia's  scenes  of  glorious  toils  I  write  ; 
While  freedom's  cause  her  anxious  breast  alarms, 
She  flashes  dreadful  in  refulgent  arms. 
See  Mother  Earth  her  offspring's  fate  bemoan, 
And  nations  gaze  at  scenes  before  unknown  ; 
See  the  bright  beams  of  heaven's  revolving  light 
Involved  in  sorrows  and  in  veil  of  night. 

The  goddess  comes,  she  moves  divinely  fair, 
Olive  and  laurel  bind  her  golden  hair ; 
Wherever  shines  this  native  of  the  skies, 
Unnumbered  charms  and  recent  graces  rise. 
Muse  !  bow  propitious  while  my  pen  relates 
How  pour  her  armies  through  a  thousand  gates  j 
As  when  Eolus  heaven's  fair  face  deforms, 
Enwrapped  in  tempest  and  a  night  of  storms ; 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


105 


Astonisher'f  ocean  feels  the  wild  uproar, 
The  refluent  surges  beat  the  resounding  shore  ; 
Or  thick  as  leaves  in  Autumn's  golden  reign, 
Such  and  so  many  moves  the  warrior's  train. 

In  bright  array  they  seek  the  world  of  war, 
Where  high  unfurled  the  ensign  waves  in  air. 
Shall  I  to  Washington  their  praise  recite  ? 
Enough,  thou  knowest  them  in  the  fields  of  fight. 
Thee,  first  in  peace  and  honor  we  demand, 
The  grace  and  glory  of  thy  mortal  band. 
Famed  for  thy  valor,  for  thy  virtue  more, 
Hear  every  tongue  thy  guardian  aid  implore. 

One  Century  scarce  performed  its  destined  round 
When  Gallic  powers  Columbia's  fury  found  ; 
And,  so  may  you,  whoever  dares  disgrace 
The  land  of  freedom's  heaven-defended  race. 
Fixed  are  the  eyes  of  nations  on  the  scales, 
For  in  their  hopes  Columbia's  arm  prevails. 
Anon,  Britannia  droops  the  pensive  head, 
While  round  increase  the  rising  hills  of  dead. 
Ah  !  cruel  blindness  to  Columbia's  state, 
L/ament  thy  thirst  of  boundless  power  too  late. 
Proceed,  great  chief ;  virtue  is  on  thy  side  ; 
Thy  every  action  let  the  goddess  guide. 
A  crown,  a  mansion,  and  a  throne  that  shine 
With  gold  unfading,  Washington,  be  thine. " 

Colored  Women   Physicians. 

Another  field,  in  which  our  women  find 
remunerative  employment,  is. that  of  medi 
cine.  A  people  numbering  eight  millions  as 
we  do,  ought  to  have  at  least  one  thousand 
female  physicians,  which  would  average  one 
for  every  eight  thousand  persons.  This  field 
is  a  new  one  for  white  women  too,  and  we, 
like  them,  should  pay  attention  to  this  hon 
orable  calling.  Instead  of  educating  all  of 
the  girls  for  teachers,  let  some  of  them  study 
medicine  or  dentistry.  We  have  a  few  Negro 
women  physicians  already.  Dr.  Susan  Mc- 
Kinney,  of  New  York  City ;  Dr.  Brown,  of 
Virginia,  who  by  the  way  is  the  first  woman 
ever  admitted  to  practice  in  the  State ;  Dr. 
Artishia  Gilbert,  of  Kentucky,  and  Drs.  Con- 
suello  Clark  and  Carrie  Golden. 

Those  who  would  like  to  adopt  these  pro 
fessions  must  make  a  way  for  themselves. 


Say  with  the  courage  of  one  of  old,  "I'll 
find  a  way  or  make  it."  Do  not  be  afraid  to 
venture  into  untried  paths.  You  will  find 
many  loyal  friends  among  the  men  and 
women  of  the  race  and  you  will  find  some 
good  white  friends  also.  As  some  one  has 
said:  "The  best  way  to  succeed  is  to  suc 
ceed."  Remember  that ' 

"  Laugh  and  the  world  laughs  with  you, 
Weep  and  you  weep  alone." 

Another  branch  in  which  Afro-American 
women  have  distinguished  themselves  is 
elocution.  Three  of  our  women — Hallie  Q. 
Brown,  Henrietta  Vinton  Davis  and  Ednorah 
Nahar,  are  especially  proficient  in  this  art, 
and  find  no  difficulty  in  entertaining  the 
most  cultured  and  fastidious  audiences.  It 
is  thought  by  some  who  have  heard  the  two 
ladies,  that  Miss  Brown  is  as  difficult  to  excel 
in  the  rendition  of  humorous  and  pathetic 
pieces  as  is  Miss  Davis  in  those  that  are 
tragic.  Miss  Nahar  is  the  best  female  con 
cert  manager  of  which  we  know,  and  is  a 
fine  elocutionist  beside. 

Lecturers  and  Preachers. 

Madame  Lois,  who  is  an  eloquent  woman, 
Mrs.  Fannie  Coppin,  who  has  spoken  in 
London,  and  Mrs.  Rogers  Webb,  preacher 
of  purity,  Mrs.  Frances  Harper,  a  temper 
ance  lecturer,  are  the  best  known  of  the 
Afro-American  women  who  now  occupy  the 
platform  in  America.  But  in  the  future  there 
will  be  many  of  our  women  who  will  enter 

this  field.     Lecturers  are  or  should  be  edu- 

i 

cators.     Their   aim   should    be   to   instruct  ' 
rather  than  to  tickle  the  wit,  to  be  rather  than 
to  seem.     Such  a  one,  who  goes  forth  with 
an  earnest  heart  to  disseminate  truth  among 
the  people,  should  be  regarded  as  a  bene-  ' 
factor  of  mankind.     Would  to  God  we  had 
now    fifty   educated    Christian  women    who 


106 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


would  devote  their  lives  to  this  work,  women 
who  would  travel  from  East  to  West  and 
from  North  to  South,  and  speak  to  our 
people  upon  subjects  that  lie  near  to  our 
hearts,  and  that  retard  or  improve  our  pro 
gress  as  a  people. 

The  important  subjects  of  economy,  of 
temperance,  of  social  purity  and  of  our  duty 
to  God  and  to  ourselves — what  a  grand  field 
for  women,  and  how  necessary  that  we 


MRS.  FRANCES  E.  PRESTON. 

should  have  them  as  lecturers.  One  of  the 
best  speakers  that  the  race  ever  had  was 
Sojourner  Truth,  an  escaped  slave,  who 
occupied  the  platform  with  such  great  men  as 
Garrison  and  Phillips,  and  of  whose  utter 
ances  it  is  said  that  with  the  same  culture, 
they  would  have  been  as  undying  as  those 
of  the  African  Saint  Augustine.  Sojourner 
lives  in  modern  art.  She  is  the  original 
Libyan  Sibyl,  a  statue  carved  by  the  cele 
brated  Mrs.  Story. 


To  the  roll  of  honor  must  be  added  the 
name  of  Miss  Lucy  Thurman,  National 
Superintendent  of  temperance  work ;  Mrs. 
M.  A.  McCurdy,  Rome,  Ga.,  editor  of  the 
Woman's  World;  Miss  Sarah  E.  Tanner, 
Principal  and  Instructor  in  English  Literature 
and  Industrial  Drawing  in  the  Normal  and 
Industrial  School,  Bordentown,  N.  J.;  and 
Mrs.  Mary  H.  Valodus,  who  was  licensed  by 
Bishop  Williams  to  preach,  and  has  erected 
two  churches,  one  at  Rome  and  the 
other  at  Amsterdam,  N.  Y. 

MRS.  FRANCES  E.  PRESTON. 

Madame  Preston  was  born  in  Rich 
mond,  Va.,  and  went  to  Detroit,  Mich., 
in  1855.  Her  parents  were  unwilling 
for  her  to  go  away  where  the  school 
advantages  were  better,  so  her  dra 
matic  ability  lay  dormant  until  in 
1 880,  at  the  age  of  thirty-three  years 
she  entered  the  Detroit  Training 
School  in  Elocution  and  English 
Literature.  Although  a  widow  with 
one  child  and  a  large  hairdressing 
business  to  attend  to,  she  graduated 
as  second  in  her  class  in  1882. 

She  was  secured  a  position  by  her 
teacher,  who  took  the  deepest  interest 
in  her  future,  and  travelled  with  the 
famous  Donivan  Tennesseeans.  After 
a  year  she  returned  home  and  was 
appointed  teacher  in  the  school  from  which 
she  graduated.  She  travelled  through  East 
ern  Virginia  in  1884  and  in  1888,  accom 
panied  by  her  daughter.  She  opened  the 
Baptist  School  for  girls  in  Augusta,  Ga.  In 
July,  1890,  she  was  appointed  agent  to  assist 
in  raising  funds  for  the  Foreign  Missionary 
Board,  and  in  April,  1891,  a  position  on  the 
Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union  Lec 
ture  Bureau  was  given  her,  which  she 
adorned  by  her  brilliant  talents. 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


107 


MRS.  ZELIA  R.  PAGE. 

Mrs.  Page  was  born  free  in  Alexander, 
Va.  Her  mother  desiring  to  secure  the 
best  possible  advantages  for  her  daughter  in 
the  way  of  education,  decided  to  take  her  to 
New  England.  They  were  obliged,  for  the 
sake  of  safety,  to  travel  as  the  slaves  of  Dr. 
Peter  Parker.  With  his  family  they  went  to 
Providence,  R.  I.,  from  which  place  Zelia 
was  sent  to  Boston  to  school.  There  she 
exhibited  marked  dramatic  ability 
and  was  encouraged  to  go  on  by 
such  educators  as  Biglow  and  Green. 
Her  mother  sent  her  to  Wilberforce 
University  in  1870,  and  in  1875  she 
graduated  from  that  institution.  She 
became  the  wife  of  Inman  E.  Page, 
President  of  Lincoln  Institute,  Jeffer 
son  City,  Mo.,  in  1878.  Since  then 
she  has  been  associated  with  Lincoln  .£ 

Institute,  and  by  her  kindness  to 
needy  students  and  her  many  acts 
of  charity  has  endeared  herself  to  all. 

MRS.    FANNIE    BARRIER 
WILLIAMS. 

Nothing  but  pleasant  surprises  <$ 
await  the  people  of  America  in  get 
ting  acquainted  with  the  ever  in 
creasing  number  of  bright  Afro- 
American  men  and  women  whose 
varied  accomplishments  and  achieve 
ments  furnish  some  of  the  most  in 
teresting  episodes  in  newspaper  literature. 

Wide  publicity  was  given  to  the  brilliant 
sallies  of  wit  and  eloquence  of  a  young 
Afro-American  woman  at  Chicago,  in  appeal 
ing  to  the  Board  of  Control  of  the  World's 
Columbian  Exposition  in  behalf  of  the 
American  Negro.  The  grave  and  matter-of- 
fact  members  of  the  commission  were  at 
first  inclined  to  treat  lightly  any  proposition 
to  recognize  the  Afro -American's  claim  to 


representation  in  the  World's  Fair  manage 
ment.  They  soon  found,  however,  that 
puzzling  cross-questions  and  evasions  awak 
ened  in  this  young  woman  such  resources  of 
repartee,  readiness  of  knowledge  and  nimble- 
ness  of  logic  that  they  were  amazed  into 
admiration  and  with  eager  unanimity  em 
braced  her  arguments  in  a  resolution  of 
approval,  and  strongly  recommended  her 
appointment  to  some  representative  position. 


MRS.  ZELIA  R.  PAGE. 

The  name  of  this  bright  lady  is  Mrs. 
Fannie  Barrier  Williams,  and  a  closer  knowl 
edge  of  herself  and  history  reveals  the  inter 
esting  fact  that  there  is  something  more  to 
her  than  ability  to  speak  brilliantly.  She 
was  born  in  Brockport,  N.  Y.,  where  her 
parents,  Mrs.  and  the  late  A.  J.  Barrier,  have 
been  highly  esteemed  residents  for  nearly 
fifty  years.  Mrs.  Williams  is  petite  in  size, 
and  her  face  is  one  of  rare  sweetness  of 


108 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


expression.  In  the  pure  idyllic  surroundings 
of  her  home,  in  the  quiet  and  refined  village 
of  Brockport,  she  had  the  very  best  school 
advantages. 

She  was  graduated  from  the  college 
department  of  the  State  Normal  School 
very  young  and  began  at  once  to  teach 
school.  For  about  ten  years  she  was  a 
successful  teacher  in  the  public  schools  of 
Washington,  D.  C.,  and  resigned  only  when 
she  became  the  wife  of  her  present  hus 
band,  Mr.  S.  Laing  Williams,  a  well  edu 
cated  and  ambitious  young  lawyer  of  the 
Chicago  bar.  Mrs.  Williams  early  evidenced 
a  decided  talent  for  drawing  and  painting. 
While  teaching  in  Washington  she  dili 
gently  exhausted  every  opportunity  to  de 
velop  her  artistic  instincts.  She  became  a 
student  in  the  studios  of  several  Washing 
ton  artists  and  further  studied  to  some  extent 
in  the  New  England  Conservatory  and  pri 
vate  studios  of  Boston. 

An  Accomplished  Woman. 

Her  cleverest  work  has  been  that  of  por 
traits.  At  the  New  Orleans  Exposition 
some  years  ago  her  pieces  on  exhibition 
were  the  theme  of  many  favorable  criticisms 
by  visiting  artists.  In  conversation  Mrs. 
Williams  is  delightfully  vivacious  and  pun 
gent,  and  displays  an  easy  familiarity  with 
the  best  things  in  our  language. 

With  no  cares  of  children  she  lives  an 
active  life.  She  was  Secretary  of  the  Art 
Department  of  the  Woman's  Branch  of  the 
Congress  Auxiliaries  of  the  World's  Colum 
bian  Exposition.  This  committee  had  the 
active  and  honorary  membership  of  the  most 
distinguished  women  artists  of  the  world, 
and  Mrs.  Williams  enjoyed  the  esteem  of  all 
who  knew  her  in  this  highly  important 
branch  of  the  World's  Fair. 

She   is   also   an    active   member   of    the 


"Illinois  Woman's  Alliance,"  in  which  she 
serves  as  Chairman  of  the  Committee  on 
"State  Schools  for  Dependent  Children." 
She  is  likewise  actively  interested  in  the 
splendid  work  of  the  Provident  Hospital 
and  Training  School,  perhaps  the  most 
unique  organization  for  self-helpfulness  ever 
undertaken  by  the  colored  people  of  the 
country. 

Mrs.  Williams'  home  life  is  unusually 
charming  and  happy.  The  choice  of  pic 
tures  and  an  ample  library  give  an  air  of 
refinement  and  culture  to  her  pretty  home. 
She  and  her  husband  are  active  members  of 
All  Souls'  Unitarian  Church,  of  Chicago, 
and  the  Prudence  Crandall  Study  Club. 

Mrs.  Williams  manifests  an  intelligent 
interest  in  all  things  that  pertain  to  the  well- 
being  of  the  Afro-Americans  and  never  hesi 
tates  to  speak  or  write  when  her  services  are 
solicited.  Her  wide  and  favorable  acquaint 
ance  with  nearly  all  the  leading  Afro-Ameri 
can  men  and  women  of  the  country,  and  her 
peculiar  faculty  to  reach  and  interest 
influential  men  and  women  of  the  dominant 
race  in  presenting  the  peculiar  needs  of  her 
people,  together  with  her  active  intelligence, 
have  made  Mrs.  Williams  a  woman  of  con 
spicuous  usefulness. 

MRS.  MARTHA  ANN  RICKS. 

Mrs.  Rick's  reputation  as  a  philanthropist 
is  well  known  in  both  England  and  America. 
In  England  she  is  a  personal  friend  and 
correspondent  of  Queen  Victoria,  with 
whom  she  often  exchanges  mementoes  of 
regard.  Her  rare  worth  asserts  itself  even 
in  her  own  native  home,  and  she  has  long 
been  a  power  in  the  progress  of  the  race  on 
the  dark  continent. 

Such  noble  examples  show  what  the  women 
of  our  race  can  do.  If  we  are  poor  and  have 
to  live  out  at  service,  and  if  we  have  an  am- 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


109 


bition  to  become  something  more  than  we 
are,  why  then  let  us  make  the  life  of  service 
a  stepping-stone  to  that  grander  and  nobler 
existence  which  we  crave.  May  none  of  us 
be  disposed  to  hide  our  talents.  A  terrible 
charge  has  been  made  against  us  as  a  race. 
We  have  been  charged  with  mental  inferior 
ity  ;  now  if  we  can  prove  that  with  cultivated 
hearts  and  brains,  we  can  accomplish  the 
same  that  it  is  accomplished  by  our  fairer 
sisters  of  the  Caucasian  race,  then  we 
have  refuted  the  falsehood. 

Many  of  us  give  up  too  easily. 
Because  we  are  colored  and  are 
poor,  we  feel  that  it  is  our  duty  to 
crush  our  aspirations  and  be  con 
tented  to  dwell  in  the  valley  of 
humiliation,  when  we  might  be  upon 
the  mountains,  heralding  some  joyous 
message  to  the  hungry  multitudes  at 
our  feet.  We  owe  it  to  God  and  to 
the  colored  race,  to  be  as  perfect  speci 
mens  of  Christian  womanhood  as  we 
are  capable  of  being.  In  the  profes 
sion  of  law  only  one  Afro-American 
has  dared  as  yet  to  venture  and  that 
is  Ida  Pratt.  Others  will  no  doubt 
follow  in  the  course  of  time  and  be 
come  celebrated. 

Another  important  class  of  educa 
tors  are  the  women  of  the  race  who 
teach  in  our  public  schools  and  col 
leges.  We  will,  as  in  other  lines,  men 
tion  those  who  are  the  most  prominent. 
Mrs.  Frances  Harper  and  Mrs.  Fannie 
Coppin,  beside  their  rank  as  lecturers,  are 
widely  known  as  educators.  Mrs.  Coppin 
is  a  graduate  of  Oberlin  College  and  is  at 
present  principal  of  the  "  Institute  for  Colored 
Youth,"  which  is  located  in  Philadelphia. 

Mrs.  Sarah  Garnet,  who  has  taught  in  the 
State  of  New  York  many  years  and  who  is  a 
member  of  the  Teacher's  National  Associa 


tion,  and  Mrs.  Anna  Julia  Cooper,  Instructor 
in  Latin  and  English  Literature  at  Washing 
ton,  D.  C,  are  among  our  best  teachers. 
Miss  A.  H.  Jones,  another  Oberlin  graduate, 
who  teaches  in  the  High  School  of  Kansas 
City,  and  the  Misses  Cordelia  and  Florence 
Ray  and  Miss  Cato,  who  have  received  from 
the  University  of  New  York,  the  degree  of 
Master  of  Pedagogy,  also  deserve  honorable 
mention.  Besides  those  mentioned  are  thou- 


MRS.  MARTHA  ANN  RICKS. 

sands  who  are  engaged  in  the  work  and  are 
successfully  teaching  both  Afro-American 
and  Anglo-Saxon  children  how  to  become 
intelligent  factors  in  this  great  universe. 

The  pessimists  of  the  race,  those  who  are 
continually  on  the  outlook  for  the  darkest 
side  of  life,  tell  us  that  we  have  no  society 
worthy  of  the  name,  but  such  ignorant  critics 
have  failed  to  obtain  a  passport  into  the  circle 
of  refined  Negro  men  and  women,  who  are 


110 


NOTED   AFRO-AMERICAN    WOMEN. 


to  be  found  in  every  city  of  the  United  States. 
Our  society  women  are  lively,  charming 
and  usually  well-bred.  They  observe  the 
same  laws  of  etiquette,  that  are  observed  by 
devotees  of  fashion  the  world  over.  They 
call,  receive  and  dress  according  to  their 
means  and  often  beyond  their  means,  just 
as  other  women  do.  They  require  dainty 
morning  gowns,  elaborate  dinner  dresses 
and  stylish  street  costumes,  with  hat,  gloves 
and  wraps  to  match,  just  like  the  rest  of 
the  feminine  world.  The  fashionable  Afro- 
American,  like  her  Caucasian  sisters  spends 
her  time  in  novel  reading,  card  playing  and 
in  whirling  through  the  intricate  mazes  of 
the  dance. 

Others  who  have  consecrated  their  lives  to 
God  find  their  time  taken  up  with  various 
religious  and  intellectual  organizations,  such 
as  the  King's  Daughters  and  many  secret 
benevolent  societies.  Two  of  the  best  known 
of  their  clubs  are  the  "Women's  Tourgee 
Club,"  of  Chicago,  and  the  "  Harriet  Beecher 
Stowe  Circle,"  of  Des  Moines.  A  later 
organization  is  the  "Women's  Industrial 
League,"  of  Washington,  D.  C.,  which  is 
doing  creditable  work. 

We  now  come  to  the  consideration  of  the 
last  thought  and  the  one  that  is  of  the  most 
importance. 

Afro-American  Women  in  the  Home. 
When  Howard  Payne,  wrote : 

"  'Mid  pleasures  and  palaces  though  I  may  roam, 
Be  it  ever  so  humble  there's  no  place  like  home," 

he  voiced  the  sentiments  of  millions. 

The  home  is  an  institution  for  which  we 
are  indebted  to  Christianity.  It  is  of  equal 
importance  with  the  school  and  the  church. 
Our  earliest  impressions  of  the  outside  world 
are  received  in  the  home  and  though  we  may 
wander  many  miles  from  the  place  we  call 


home,  yet  it  will  ever  occupy  a  sacred  spot 
in  our  memories. 

If,  as  some  writer  has  said,  the  hand  that 
rocks  the  cradle  rules  the  world,  how  impor 
tant  that  that  hand  shall  be  trained  to  guide 
wisely  the  children  beneath  her  rule  ! 

It  is  in  the  home  that  our  women,  and 
indeed  all  women,  are  seen  either  at  their 
best  or  at  their  worst.  It  is  here  that  they 
are  either  home-makers  or  home-breakers. 
Look  at  these  two  scenes.  Two  young 
couple  embarked  out  on  the  sea  of  life.  One 
takes  for  their  motto,  the  Golden  Rule  :  "  Do 
unto  others  as  you  would  have  them  do 
unto  you."  The  other  one  :  "  I  am  going 
to  rule  my  house." 

Home-Makers   and   Home-Breakers. 

One  woman  tries  to  be  a  helpmate  indeed 
unto  her  husband,  and  the  other  spends  her 
money  faster  than  he  can  earn  it.  One  meets 
her  husband  when  his  day's  work  is  over  with 
a  pleasant  smile,  while  the  other  keeps  on 
hand  a  goodly  supply  of  frowns  and  cross 
words.  Number  one  is  easily  contented,  for 
she  knows  that  she  has  her  husband's  love 
and  that  brighter  days  are  just  ahead  for 
them,  but  nothing  satisfies  number  two,  for 
she  is  a  home-breaker,  as  surely  as  the  other 
is  a  home-maker. 

We  cannot  say  that  the  majority  of  our 
homes  are  what  they  should  be.  It  would 
be  a  miracle  if  they  were  after  so  many  cen 
turies  of  heathenish  influences  have  sur 
rounded  our  ancestors,  and  of  course,  left 
their  marks  upon  us.  But  we  are  not  dis 
couraged,  for  we  find  here  and  there  Afro- 
American  homes,  that  are  models  of  Chris 
tian  culture  and  happiness,  and  we  know 
that  education  and  religion  will  create  many 
more. 

Already  great  improvement  is  being  no 
ticed  everywhere  in  our  homes. 


THE  GUIDE  TO  SUCCESS 


WITH 


EXAMPLES  AND  ACHIEVEMENTS  OF  SUCCESSFUL  MEN  AND 

WOMEN  OF  THE  RACE 


IT  HAS  been  truly  said  that  great  deeds 
and    examples    inspire     us    to    noble 
actions.       We    see    what    has    been 
accomplished  by  others  and  we  wish 
to  be  equally  successful.     We  look  at  the 
enviable  position  they  have  gained  and  feel 
that  we   can  become  equally  distinguished. 
We  mark  the  respect  they  receive,  the  com 
mendation  given  to  them,  the  wide  influence 
they   are  exerting,   and   our   impulse    is  to 
make  them  a  pattern  for  ourselves. 

The  colored  race  of  this  country  should 
aim  at  the  highest  success  and  make  them 
selves  the  best  citizens  and  the  most  useful 
members  of  society.  We  should  be  guided 
by  right  principles  and  prove  ourselves 
worthy  of  the  liberty  granted  us  by  emanci 
pation.  There  should  be  no  better  schools 
than  ours,  no  grander  statesmen,  no  more 
successful  business  men,  no  more  shining 
lights  in  professional  life,  no  happier  homes, 
no  more  cultured  women,  no  people  more 
moral  and  upright.  This  is  a  high  ideal, 
but  we  can  reach  it. 

It  is  safe  to  say  we  can  do  it,  because 
many  noble  and  worthy  members  of  our  race 
have  already  achieved  great  success.  They 
have  climbed  high  in  their  endeavors,  have 
plucked  the  laurels  for  which  they  were 
reaching,  have  grasped  the  prize  held  out 
before  them,  and  by  their  brilliant  achieve 
ments  have  conferred  honor  upon  their 
people,  and  have  written  their  names  deep  in 


history.  Where  are  our  rising  young  men 
and  young  women  ?  We  call  them  to  come 
forward.  We  bid  them  lift  their  eyes  to  the 
heights  of  knowledge  and  power.  We  point 
them  to  those  whose  names  have  become 
household  words,  and  bid  them  press  on  to 
the  front  rank  in  the  struggle  of  life. 

Great  Desire  for  Learning. 

It  is  a  marvelous  sign  of  the  times  that 
there  is  a  vast  stir  among  all  our  people,  a 
waking  up  from  the  lethargy  and  indifference 
of  a  state  of  servitude,  an  eager  desire  for 
learning  and  all  the  accomplishments  of 
polite  society,  a  noble  resolve  to  rise  to  a 
higher  plane  and  wield  a  mightier  power. 
Here  lies  our  hope  for  the  future.  We  are 
not  always  going  to  be  crushed  to  the  earth. 
The  blood  that  flows  in  our  veins  will  grow 
warm  arid  a  new  light  will  kindle  in  our 
eyes.  The  great  leaders  of  the  race  have 
lifted  up  a  high  standard  before  us,  and 
happy  are  they  who  shall  climb  until  they 
reach  it. 

With  the  object  of  furnishing  the  colored 
people  in  all  parts  of  our  country  helpful 
advice,  words  of  wisdom,  and  beneficial  sug 
gestions,  this  Guide  to  Success  has  been  pre 
pared.  It  is  practical,  pointed  and  inspiring. 
It  teaches  great  lessons.  It  deals  with 
thoughts  and  principles  which  ought  to  be 
imbedded  in  every  mind  and  heart.  It  will 
help  you  to  that  measure  of  self-improve- 

111 


112 


THE   GUIDE  TO   SUCCESS. 


ment  which  will  be  followed  by  a  successful 
career. 

The  first  thing  to  consider  is  that  success 
is  the  result  of  education  and  self-training. 
This  great  truth  is  brilliantly  illustrated  in 
the  life  and  noble  work  of 

HON.  FREDERICK  DOUGLASS. 

Viewed  from  whatever  standpoint,  Fred- 
Tick  Douglass  was  a  great  man.  In  sum 
ming  up  his  life,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind 
that  he  was  the  first  colored  man  to  gain  any 
considerable  notoriety  in  the  affairs  of  the 
American  people.  It  is  true  he  came  for 
ward  at  a  time  that  afforded  great  opportu 
nities  for  one  of  his  race  who  had  more  than 
ordinary  ability,  and  much  that  he  accom 
plished  was  due  to  this  fact.  He  was  a 
natural  product  of  his  age,  and  was  largely 
developed  by  the  peculiar  circumstances  by 
which  he  was  surrounded.  But  the  right 
material  was  in  him.  An  ordinary  man, 
with  like  opportunities,  never  could  have 
made  the  splendid  record  that  he  made. 

As  a  slave,  he  was  deprived  of  the  benefits 
of  an  early  education.  Hearing  his  mistress 
read  the  Bible,  he,  one  day,  asked  her  to 
teach  him  to  read  it.  This  she  consented  to 
do,  and  he  showed  such  aptitude  that  his 
master  objected  to  his  being  taught,  and  so 
the  work  was  discontinued.  But  the  dis 
covery  of  an  unusual  mind  was  doubtless 
made  by  himself,  as  well  as  by  his  master, 
and  the  little  knowledge  he  had  thus  acquired, 
only  intensified  his  desire  for  more. 

After  making  his  escape  from  bondage,  he 
(found  an  asylum  at  New  Bedford,  Mass.,  and 
.though  engaged  in  manual  labor,  he  em 
braced  every  possible  opportunity  to  cultivate 
his  mind.  It  was  in  1841  that  he  attended 
an  Anti-Slavery  Convention  at  Nantucket,and 
spoke.  This  was  the  effort  that  brought 
him  before  the  public,  and  decided  what  was 


to  henceforth  be  his  life  work.  The  Massa 
chusetts  Anti-Slavery  Society  at  once  em 
ployed  him  as  a  lecturer,  and  for  fifty-four 
years  he  was  one  of  the  most  prominent 
figures  on  the  American  platform. 

Like  Abraham  Lincoln,  he  was  an  original 
thinker,  and  had  a  unique  way  of  expressing 
himself.  Many  of  his  brief  utterances  have 
crystalized  into  fireside  expressions.  It  has 
been  said  of  him  that  he  was  capable  of  put 
ting  a  volume  into  a  single  expression.  His 
style  was  generally  slow  and  deliberate,  but 
at  times  he  would  fairly  catch  fire,  and  pour 
out  volumes  of  eloquence  in  such  an  impas 
sioned  manner  as  to  move  his  audience  to  the 
highest  pitch  of  excitement.  No  one  could 
listen  to  him  without  being  impressed  with 
his  earnestness.  His  sincerity  and  honesty 
of  purpose  made  .him  formidable  in  any 
cause  he  espoused.  His  sterling  integrity, 
coupled  with  his  great  ability,  made  him  the 
trusted  friend  of  his  race,  for  whose  rights  he 
labored  and  fought  so  long  and  so  bravely. 
No  man  w-s  able  to  take  his  place  as  a  race 
leader.  H^  ivas  true  and  tried. 

Grand  Battle  for  Civil   Rights. 

Having  secured  his  own  freedom,  he 
embraced  the  first  opportunity  to  labor  for 
the  emancipation  of  his  fellow  bondsmen. 
When  the  war  of  the  rebellion  broke  out,  he 
insisted  upon  the  enlistment  of  colored 
troops,  and  was  the  principal  agent  in 
organizing  the  famous  Fifty-Fourth  Massa 
chusetts.  The  war  ended,  he  began  the 
battle  for  civil  rights,  and  the  right  of  fran 
chise.  Things  moved  on  smoothly  for  a 
time,  then  trouble  in  a  different  form  came. 
The  reign  of  mob  violence  constitutes  one 
of  the  darkest  pages  in  the  history  of  our 
national  life.  Again  Mr.  Douglass  arose  in 
the  greatness  of  his  might,  and  waged  war 
against  the  lyncher.  As  of  old,  he  comes 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


113 


appealing  to  men's  reason.  He  has  a  cause, 
and  he  asks  to  be  heard  for  the  sake  of  his 
cause. 

When  Mr.  Douglass  came  before  the 
public,  it  was  at  a  time  when  the  greatest 
premium  was  placed  upon  anything  like 
recognition  from  the  dominant  race.  He  was 
the  first  to  be  handed  around  in  New  England 
society;  to  be  recognized  as  a  man,  a  gen 
tleman  and  an  orator;  to  be  sought  and 
listened  to  by  cultured  audiences ;  to  be 
invited  abroad  and  received  by  the  English 
people  as  an  orator  of  first  rank  ;  and  yet,  in 
all  of  this,  Frederick  Douglass  never  lost  his 
equilibrium.  He  was  not  puffed  up  with 
pride  or  vanity,  nor  induced  by  any  sort  of 
preferment  to  desert  his  people.  Again,  in 
all  the  years  of  his  public  life,  his  moral 
character  has  stood  unimpeached.  Sincerity, 
honesty  of  purpose  and  purity  of  life,  have 
characterized  him  during  his  long  life  of 
public  service. 

His    Religious   Opinions. 

Many  have  been  concerned  about  Mr. 
Douglass'  religious  convictions.  Very  natu 
rally,  a  people  who  themselves  believe  in 
God,  would  be  concerned  about  the  faith  of 
him  who  was  their  leader.  In  his  early  life 
Mr.  Douglass  was  identified  with  the  Metho 
dist  Church.  For  a  time,  he  held  the  posi 
tions  of  chorister,  class  leader  and  local 
preacher.  But  as  he  was  brought  in  con 
tact  with  men  who  professed  Christianity, 
and  yet  whose  lives  were  so  far  from  Chris 
tian  principles,  he  grew  cold  as  to  sectari 
anism. 

He  was  so  intensely  honest  and  sincere 
himself,  that  it  was  hard  for  him  to  affiliate 
in  church  relations  with  men  whose  daily 
lives  >  ere  a  contradiction  of  the  religion  that 
they  professed.  His  seeming  indifference, 
therefore,  was  not  a  protest  r.gainst  Chris- 
H 


tianity,  but  against  hypocrisy.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  he  was  a  strong  believer  in  God  and 
would  not  hesitate  to  so  express  himself. 

During  his  last  days  he  was  a  regular  at 
tendant  at  the  Metropolitan  A.  M.  E.  Church 
at  Washington  City  and  would  often  be  seen 
to  weep.  During  the  pastorate  of  Dr.  John 
W.  Beckett,  he  would  often  ask  him  to  sing, 
"  Seeking^for  me,"  which  he  called  his  favor 
ite  hymn.  That  which  attracts  men  to  Christ, 
is  not  so  much  Christian  profession  as  Chris 
tian  life.  It  is  only  a  wonder  that  the  Ameri 
can  phase  of  Christianity  has  not  cooled  the 
ardor  of  many  more,  who  are  the  victims  of 
its  inconsistencies. 

A  Noble  Life. 

As  a  politician,  he  cast  his  lot  with  the 
"party  of  freedom,"  and  there  remained. 
He  could  see  the  shortcomings  of  that  party 
and  would  often  administer  a  rebuke,  but  he 
never  saw  the  wisdom  of  changing  it  for 
another.  In  the  hour  of  great  political  ex 
citement,  when  men  were  honestly  in  doubt 
as  to  the  best  course  to  pursue,  Mr.  Doug 
lass  was  a  wise  and  safe  leader.  He  was 
not  governed  by  sentimentalism,  but  ready 
always  to  give  a  reason  for  his  course. 

His  work  was  well  done.  He  has  gone 
to  his  reward.  He  lived  an  honorable  and 
useful  life,  and  was  a  great  blessing  to  his 
day  and  generation. 

His  place  can  never  be  filled ;  perhaps 
there  will  be  no  occasion  for  it,  but  for  the 
work  that  yet  remains  to  be  done,  the  God 
who  raised  him  up  will  raise  up  others.  We 
shall  miss  Mr.  Douglass  for  his  wisdom,  his 
influence  and  his  constant  advocacy  of  human 
rights. 

No  one  among  us  had  the  ear  of  the 
American  people  as  he  had  it,  and  no  one 
was  ever  truer  to  a  sacred  trust  than  was  he. 
A  grateful  people  will  ever  cherish  his  mem- 


114 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


ory.  When  he  takes  his  rightful  place  in 
history,  it  will  be  as  a  great  man,  "  one  of 
earth's  great  spirits,  born  in  servitude  and 
nursed  in  scorn." 

The  following  incident  is  too  good  to  be 
lost.  A  few  years  ago  Mr.  Douglass  went 
back  to  Talbot  County,  Md.,  where  he 
was  born  a  slave,  to  buy  some  of  the  prop 
erty  which,  in  the  old  days,  he  was  forbidden 
by  law  to  own,  because  nature  had  colored 
his  skin  brown,  and  white  men  had,  by  their 
superior  strength,  been  able  to  buy  and  sell 
his  ancestors.  While  there  he  was  invited 
to  address  a  colored  school,  and  this,  accord 
ing  to  a  writer  in  Kate  Field's  Washington, 
was  what  he  said  : 

"  I  once  knew  a  little  colored  boy  whose 
mother  and  father  died  when  he  was  but  six 
years  old.  He  was  a  slave,  and  had  no  one 
to  care  for  him.  He  slept  on  a  dirt  floor  in 
a  hovel,  and  in  cold  weather  would  crawl 
into  a  meal  bag  headforemost,  and  leave  his 
feet  in  the  ashes  to  keep  them  warm.  Often 
he  would  roast  an  ear  of  corn  and  eat  it  to 
.satisfy  his  hunger,  and  many  times  has  he 


crawled  under  the  barn  or  stable  and  secured 
eggs,  which  he  would  roast  in  the  fire  and  eat. 

"  That  boy  did  not  wear  pants  like  you  do,, 
but  a  tow  linen  shirt.  Schools  were  unknown 
to  him,  and  he  learned  to  spell  from  an  old 
Webster's  spelling  book  and  to  read  and 
write  from  posters  on  cellar  and  barn  doors, 
while  boys  and  men  would  help  him.  He 
would  then  preach  and  speak,  and  soon  be 
came  well  known.  He  became  Presidential 
Elector,  United  States  Marshal,  United  States 
Recorder,  United  States  Diplomat,  and  accu 
mulated  some  wealth.  He  wore  broadcloth 
and  didn't  have  to  divide  crumbs  with  the 
dogs  under  the  table.  That  boy  was  Fred 
erick  Douglass. 

"  What  was  possible  for  me  is  possible  for 
you.  Don't  think  because  you  are  colored 
you  can't  accomplish  anything.  Strive  earn 
estly  to  add  to  your  knowledge.  So  long  as 
you  remain  in  ignorance  so  long  will  you  fail 
to  command  the  respect  of  your  fellow  men." 

Who  could  add  anything  to  that  which 
would  not  spoil  it  ?  Mr.  Douglass  was  a 
noble  specimen  of  a  self-made  man. 


EDUCATE  YOURSELF. 


NO  man  or  woman  can  accomplish  as 
much  without  education  as  with 
it.      Great  natural  abilities  have 
enabled  many  who  were  not  high 
ly  educated  to  rise  in  the  world,  but  they  did 
this  not  by  lack  of  training,  but  in  spite  of  it. 
The  men  and  women  of  our  race  who  have 
become  distinguished  have  succeeded  in  ob 
taining  a  fair  education. 

Look,  for  instance,  at  Mr.  John  R.  Lynch, 
who  has  the  proud  distinction  of  having  sat 
under  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  to  repre 
sent  one  of  the  Congressional  districts  of 
Mississippi.  He  was  born  in  Concordia 
Parish,  La.,  September  10,  1847.  He 


remained  in  slavery  until  that  great  Moses  of 
the  .colored  race,  Abraham  Lincoln,  sent 
forth  the  proclamation  that  snapped  forever 
the  chains  of  the  enslaved.  It  will  readily 
be  understood  that  he  had  no  opportunities 
in  early  life  for  self-improvement,  but  after 
ward,  when  able  to  do  so,  applied  himself 
closely  to  study  and  made  rapid  progress. 

His  mother,  having  been  sold  to  a  resident 
of  Natchez,  Miss.,  and  removed  to  this  place, 
he  had  an  opportunity  to  attend  evening 
school  when  the  town  was  captured  and  held 
by  the  Union  troops.  Afterwards,  under 
private  instructors,  he  made  good  use  of  his 
time  in  learning  the  English  branches. 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


115 


In  1869  he  was  appointed  by  Governor 
Ames  justice  of  the  peace  for  Adams  County. 
Soon  afterward  he  was  elected  to  the  State 
Legislature,  and  being  chosen  for  a  second 
term  he  served  as  Speaker  of  the  House.  He 
was  elected  to  the  Forty-third  Congress,  and 
gave  such  satisfaction  that  he  was  re-elected, 
but  was  not  allowed  to  take  his  seat,  which 
was  contested  by  his  opponent. 

He  was  Temporary  Chairman  of  the 
National  Republican  Convention  at  Chicago 
in  1884,  and  was  appointed  fourth  auditor  in 
the  Treasury  Department  by  President 
Harrison.  Mr.  Lynch  is  a  man  of  cultured 
mind  and  is  an  orator  of  commanding  ability. 
Speaking  in  Congress  of  the  loyalty  of  the 
colored  people  to  the  government  during  the 
war  and  of  what  they  deserve  from  their 
fellow  citizens,  he  said : 

"  They  were  faithful  and  true  to  you  then ; 
they  are  no  less  so  to-day.  And  yet  they 
ask  no  special  favors  as  a  class ;  they  ask  no 
special  protection  as  a  race.  They  feel  that 


they  purchased  their  inheritance,  when  upon 
the  battle-fields  of  their  country  they  watered 
the  tree  of  liberty  with  the  precious  blood 


HON.  JOHN  R.  LYNCH. 

that  flowed  from  their  loyal  veins.  [Loud 
applause.]  They  ask  no  favors;  they 
demand  what  they  desire  and  must  have — an 
equal  chance  in  the  race  of  life." 


HONESTY. 


A  GENTLEMAN,  jumping   from    an 
omnibus    in    the    City    of    New 
York,    dropped    his  pocket-book, 
and  had   gone  some  distance  be 
fore   he    discovered    his   loss ;    then    hastily 
returning,  inquired  of  every  passenger  whom 
he  met,  if  a  pocket-book  had  been  seen. 

Finally,  meeting  a  little  girl  ten  years  old, 
to  whom  he  made  the  same  inquiry,  she 
asked:  "What  kind  of  a  pocket-book?" 
He  described  it — then  unfolding  her  apron : 
"Is  this  it?"  "Yes,  that  is  mine;  come 
into  this  store  with  me."  They  entered,  he 
opened  the  book,  counted  the  notes,  and 
examined  the  papers.  "They  are  all  right," 
said  he;  "fifteen  notes  of  a  thousand  dollars 
each.  Had  they  fallen  into  other  hands, 


I  might  never  have  seen  them  again.  Take,, 
then,  my  little  girl,  this  note  of  a  thousand 
dollars,  as  a  reward  for  your  honesty,  and  a 
lesson  to  me  to  be  more  careful  in  future." 

"  No,"  said  the  girl,  "  I  cannot  take  it. 
I  have  been  taught  at  Sunday-school  not  to 
keep  what  is  not  mine,  and  my  parents  would 
not  be  pleased  if  I  took  the  note  home ;  they 
might  suppose  I  had  stolen  it."  "Well, 
then,  my  girl,  show  me  where  your  parents 
live." 

The  girl  took  him  to  a  humble  tenement 
in  an  obscure  street,  rude  but  cleanly.  He 
informed  the  parents  of  the  case.  They 
told  him  their  child  had  acted  correctly. 
They  were  poor,  it  was  true^  but  their  pastor 
had  always  told  them  not  to  set  their  hearts 


116 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


in  early  life  and  practiced  what 
she  learned. 

Many  Afro-Americans  have 
held,  and  are  holding  now,  po 
sitions  where  the  most  sterling 
integrity  and  honesty  are  in  con 
stant  demand.  For  example, 
such  a  man  is  Douglass  B. 
McCary,  who  is  cashier  of  the 
Capital  Savings  Bank.  In  such 
a  position  as  this  a  reputation  for 
the  strictest  honesty  must  be 
maintained;  otherwise,  the  place 
could  not  be  held  for  an  hour. 
You  should  be  accounted  thor 
oughly  honest — honest  in  all 
your  dealings,  honest  in  your 
professions,  honest  in  thought, 
word  and  deed.  This  is  the 
sure  and  safe  road  to  success. 


DOUGLASS   B.  McCARY, 

Cashier  of  the  Capital  Savings  Bank. 

on  rich  gifts.  The  gentleman  told 
them  they  must  take  it,  and  he  was 
convinced  they  would  make  a  good 
use  of  it,  from  the  principle  they 
had  professed. 

The  pious  parents  then  blessed 
their  benefactor,  for  such  he 
proved.  They  paid  their  debts, 
which  had  disturbed  their  peace, 
and  the  benevolent  giver  furnished 
the  husband  and  father  employ 
ment  in  his  occupation  as  a  car 
penter,  enabling  him  to  rear  an  in 
dustrious  family  in  comparative 
happiness.  This  little  girl  became 
the  wife  of  a  respectable  tradesman 
of  New  York,  and  had  reason  to 
rejoice  that  she  was  taught  aright 


WILLIAM  E.  MATTHEWS,  LL.B. 


THE   GUIDE  TO   SUCCESS. 


117 


Another  gentleman  who  illustrates  this 
cardinal  virtue  very  forcibly  is  Mr.  W.  E. 
Matthews.  He  was  born  in  Baltimore,  July, 
1845.  While  in  this  city  he  was  a  promi 
nent  member  of  literary  institutions.  He 
graduated  from  the  Law  Department  of 
Howard  University.  After  serving  a  num 


ber  of  years  in  the  Post  Office  Department 
at  Washington,  he  opened  a  real  estate  and 
broker's  office.  Few  men  among  us  under 
stand  so  well  as  Mr.  Matthews  the  true 
handling  of  money.  His  business  integrity 
is  something  of  which  any  man  might  well 
be  proud. 


SELF-RELIANCE. 


PRESIDENT  GARFIELD  once  said : 
"A  pound  of  pluck  is  worth  a  ton 
of  luck.  Let  not  poverty  stand  as 
an  obstacle  in  your  way.  Poverty 
is  uncomfortable,  as  I  can  testify ;  but  nine 
times  out  of  ten  the  best  thing  that  can  hap 
pen  to  a  young  man  is  to  be  tossed  over 
board  and  be  compelled  to  sink  or  swim  for 
himself.  In  all  my  acquaintances  I  have 
never  known  one  to  be  drowned  who  was 
worth  saving." 

You  should  be  able  to  face  a  duty  or  a 
trial.  Walk  up  to  it  with  determination  in 
every  look  and  action.  Self-reliance  is  op 
posed  to  cowardice.  It  does  not  belong  to 
weak  characters.  You  find  it  wherever  any 
thing  worth  doing  is  done,  worth  achieving  is 
achieved.  It  can  stand  a  shock  without 
fainting.  It  doesn't  mope  around  with  cam 
phor  and  a  smelling-bottle.  It  doesn't  run 
when  a  leaf  rustles.  Its  hair  is  not  likely  to 
stand  straight  up  through  fright.  It  doesn't 
run  for  ghosts ;  it  marches  right  up,  and  the 
ghost  runs.  Self-reliance  has  done  won 
ders.  If  you  have  it,  thank  God  for  it ;  if 
you  haven't  it,  you  ought  to  have  an  assured 
income,  someone  to  pay  for  your  food  and 
clothes,  and  give  you  a  decent  burial,  when, 
fortunately  for  the  world,  you  die. 

This  magnificent  virtue  has  had  its  praises 
sung  in  epics  and  told  in  history.  Not  half 
enough  has  ever  been  said  about  it.  Go  on 
telling  its  achievements  for  ages,  and  you 


would  then  only  be  in  the  first  chapter. 
Bronze  and  marble  commemorate  it,  but  its 
glories  and  triumphs  will  last  when  bronze 
and  marble  have  crumbled. 

Here  now  is  a  fine  illustration  of  it.  The 
name  is  well  known  and  is  universally  hon 
ored.  It  is  that  of  Hon.  P.  B.  S.  Pinchbank. 

The  fact  that  Mr.  Pinchback  has  risen 
from  a  humble  position  to  be  Governor  of 
Louisiana,  proves  that  he  is  possessed  of 
remarkable  ability.  He  was  born  May  10, 
1837.  When  about  six  years  old  he  was 
sent  by  his  father  to  Cincinnati  to  attend 
Gilmore's  High  School. 

Through  family  misfortunes  he  was  com 
pelled  to  start  out  in  the  world  for  himself  at 
the  age  of  twelve,  securing  a  position  as  cabin 
boy  on  a  canal  boat  at  eight  dollars  a  month. 
From  this  time  on,  he  followed  steamboating 
and  gradually  rose  to  be  steward  of  the  boat, 
which  was  the  highest  place  any  colored  man 
could  gain. 

In  1862  General  Butler,  commander  of 
the  Gulf,  called  upon  the  free  men  of  color 
of  Louisiana  to  take  up  arms  in  defence  of 
the  Union.  Mr.  Pinchback  at  once  organ 
ized  a  company,  of  which  he  became  captain, 
and  was  mustered  into  service.  His  short 
career  in  the  army  was  attended  by  many 
controversies  and  perils  in  the  effort  to  main 
tain  his  own  and  the  dignity  of  the  colored 
troops. 

In   1867  he  made  his   first  move  in  the 


118 


THE   GUIDE  TO   SUCCESS. 


political   field  and  from  that  time  on  held 
many  important  positions.     He  became  an 


HON.  P.  B.  S.  PINCHBACK, 
Ex-Governor  of  Louisiana. 

editor  in  1870,  and  through  his  newspaper 
largely  influenced  the  State  Legislature.  The 


next  year  he  became  Lieutenant-Governor  to 

fill  the  vacancy  caused  by  the  death  of  Hon. 
Oscar  J.  Dunn.  The  following 
year  he  was  nominated  by  a 
large,  enthusiastic  Republican 
State  Convention  for  Governor. 
There  were  many  complications 
at  this  time  in  the  political  situa 
tion,  and  after  many  conflicts  and 
much  excitement,  Mr.  Pinchback 
X.^  was  made  Governor  until  Janu 

ary,  1873.  He  was  at  once 
elected  United  States  Senator 
for  the  term  of  six  years.  But  a 
conspiracy  existed  to  keep  him 
out  of  Congress. 

He  has  held  many  responsible 
positions  and  in  each  and  all  has 
shown  himself  to  be  a  man  of 
mark.  He  illustrates  forcibly 
the  great  virtue  of  self-reliance, 
is  a  man  of  independent  thought 
and  action,  and  has  frequently 
passed  through  emergencies 
where  only  his  own  nerve  and 
firmness  have  saved  him  from 
defeat.  It  may  safely  be  said 

that   he  is  the  most  prominent  representative? 

of  our  race  in  the  Southwest. 


PERSEVERANCE. 


Y 


'OU  must  not  give  up.  You  must  go 
at  it  and  keep  at  it.  Fitful  effort 
accomplishes  very  little ;  it  is  the 
long  and  steady  pull  that  does 
wonders.  You  must  remember  John 
Wesley's  motto:  "All  at  it  and  always  at 
it."  This  grand  virtue  has  been  the  making 
<of  many  illustrious  men,  and  the  want  of  it 
"will  account  for  the  utter  failure  of  many 
others  who  by  nature  were  splendidly 
endowed. 


Our  race  affbras  a  multitude  of  striking 
examples,  showing  the  supremacy  of  this 
quality.  Among  them  all  Mr.  T.  Thomas 
Fortune  is  one  of  the  most  noteworthy. 
His  career  as  an  editor,  author  and  agitator 
has  been  a  brilliant  one.  He  shows  what 
can  be  accomplished  by  steady  perseverance, 
his  mother  having  transmitted  this  quality  to 
her  son.  He  was  born  in  Jackson  County, 
Fla.,  in  1856. 

He  began  his  career  as  a  printer  at  Jack* 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


119 


sonville,  being  known  as  what  is  called  a 
printer's  "devil"  on  one  of  the  newspapers. 
Having  lost  his  position  through  a  change 
of  proprietors,  he  began  attending  school 
and  at  once  took  high  rank  as  a  student. 
We  next  find  him  a  clerk  in  the  city  post 
office,  but,  being  a  youth  of  high  blood, 
he  refused  to  take  an  insult,  left  the  place 
and  went  back  to  the  printer's  case. 

In  1876  he  entered  How 
ard  University,  where  he  re 
mained  two  years,  prepar 
ing  himself  for  his  future 
life  work.  He  has  attained 
great  celebrity  as  a  jour 
nalist  in  New  York,  being 
a  very  forcible,  versatile 
and  attractive  writer.  An 
appreciative  biographer 
speaks  of  him  as  follows: 

"  His  life  has   been   one 
of  stern  reality,  struggling 
for    a  foothold ;    he    often 
tneets    difficulty    and    ob 
stacles  which  would  cause 
men    of    less    fortitude    to 
succumb ;  but  still  he  bat 
tles  on,  believing  that  the 
race  is  not  always  to  the 
swift,  but  to  him  who  holds 
out  to  the  end.     Owing  to 
his  political  stand  he  finds 
much  to  encounter,  but  we 
earnestly   believe    that    in 
the  long  run  he  will  have 
no    cause    to    regret    his    course.     He    is 
still  laboring  with  the  hope  that  the  intelli 
gence  and  culture  we  are  gaining  will  eventu- 
jally  cause  the  race  to  reach  that  point  where 
it  will  be  able  to  maintain  itself.     He  sees  in 
the  future  grand  and  glorious  achievements. 

"  He   is   an   inveterate   foe   to   the   half 
hearted  who    dare   not  stand  up  and   take 


ostracism  and  blows  for  the  race.  He  is  a 
business  man  who  means  business,  and  is 
determined  to  make  his  paper  succeed,  if 
such  a  thing  is  possible.  There  are  many 
competing  for  public  favor,  but  The  Freeman 
holds  its  own,  and  no  matter  how  much 
newspaper  disagreement  there  may  be  over 
first  place  in  the  newspaper  world — the 
variety,  vivacity  and  even  impetuosity  of  Mr. 


T.  THOMAS  FORTUNE. 

Fortune's  editorials  will  always  give  him  a 
commanding  position  among  the  lights  of 
the  fraternity." 

Mr.  Fortune  has  been  connected  with 
some  of  the  most  widely  circulated  periodi 
cals  and  newspapers  of  the  country,  and  has 
always  made  a  success  with  his  pen.  He  is 
a  bold  and  trenchant  writer. 


120 


THE   GUIDE  TO    SUCCESS. 


FORCE  OF  CHARACTER. 


EMERSON  says,  "  Men  of  character 
are  the  conscience  of  the  society  to 
which  they  belong."     And  Martin 
Luther  said,  "  The  prosperity  of  a 
country  depends,  not  on  the  abundance  of 
its  revenues,  nor  on  the  strength  of  its  forti 
fications,    nor    on    the  beauty    of  its  public 
buildings  ;  but  it  consists  in  the  number  of 


HON.  B.  K.  BRUCE,  Ex-U.  S.  SENATOR. 

its  cultivated  citizens,  in  its  men  of  educa 
tion,  enlightenment,  and  character ;  here  are 
to  be  found  its  true  interest,  its  chief  strength, 
its  real  power." 

Men  of  genuine  excellence,  in  every  station 
of  life — men  of  industry,  of  integrity,  of  high 
principle,  of  sterling  honesty  of  purpose — 
command  the  spontaneous  homage  of  man 
kind.  It  is  natural  to  believe  in  such  men, 


to  have  confidence  in  them,  and  to  imitate 
them.  All  that  is  good  in  the  world  is 
upheld  by  them,  and  without  their  presence 
in  it,  the  world  would  not  be  worth  living  in. 
Such  a  man  is  the  Hon.  B.  K.  Bruce. 
This  distinguished  man,  who  has  been  a 
member  of  the  United  States  Senate,  was 
born  in  old  Virginia,  March  I,  1841.  His 
lot  as  a  slave  boy  was  hard  and 
toilsome,  and  of  course  he  had 
few  if  any  opportunities  for  ob 
taining  an  education.  When  the 
act  of  emancipation  liberated  four 
millions  of  our  people,  young 
Bruce  made  his  way  to  Oberlin 
College,  and  there  pursued  such 
a  course  of  study  as  he  thought 
would  best  qualify  him  for  future 
usefulness. 

Having  made  diligent  use  of 
his  time,  and  gained  a  fair  edu 
cation,  he  entered  public  life  in 
the  State  of  Mississippi  in  1868. 
As  a  planter  he  was  highly  re 
spected,  and  at  once  showed  that 
he   was    fitted    for    positions    of 
honor  and   trust.     In    1870  he 
was  elected  Sergeant-at-Arms  of 
the  State  Senate.    Here  he  made 
good   use  of  acquaintance  with 
the  leading  men  to  better  develop 
the  judgment,  tact  and  executive 
ability,  which  have  so  signally  characterized 
his  after  life.     Soon  after  he  was  appointed 
Assessor  of  Taxes,  Sheriff  and  member  of 
the  Board  of  Levee  Commissioners. 

Having  already  gained  great  distinction  as 
an  able  man  and  wise  statesman,  he  was 
chosen  to  the  United  States  Senate  in  1 874, 
and  took  his  place  in  the  highest  council  of 
the  nation.  Here  he  served  with  marked 


THE   GUIDE  TO   SUCCESS. 


121 


distinction,  and  was  one  of  the  ablest  mem 
bers  of  that  body.  He  was  often  called  to 
preside  over  the  Senate  and  did  so  with 
remarkable  ability.  He  served  as  Register 


of  the  United  States  Treasury  under  Presi 
dent  Garfield,  and  was  appointed  by  Presi 
dent  Harrison  Recorder  of  Deeds  for  the 
District  of  Columbia. 


INDUSTRY  AND   THRIFT. 


IT  HAS  been  said  that  no  sword  is  too 
short  for  a  brave  man,  for  one  step 
forward  will  make  a  short  sword  long 
enough.  But  few  tasks  are  too  diffi 
cult  for  one  who  is  industrious  and  persever 
ing.  "  Labor  conquers  all  things."  If  the 
task  is  difficult,  work  a  little  harder. 

On  the  Delphian  temple  is  the  motto  of 
Periander  :  "  Nothing  is  impossible  to  indus 
try."  If  you  have  great  talents,  industry  will 
improve  them  ;  if  moderate  ability,  industry 
will  supply  their  deficiency.  Nothing  is 
denied  to  well  directed  labor;  nothing  is 
ever  to  be  attained  without  it. 

Work  is  the  law  of  our  being — the  living 
principle  that  carries  men  and  nations  onward. 
The  greater  number  of  men  have  to  work 
with  their  hands,  as  a  matter  of  necessity,  in 
order  to  live  ;  but  all  must  work  in  one  way 
or  another,  if  they  would  enjoy  life  as  it 
ought  to  be  enjoyed. 

Labor  may  be  a  burden  and  a  chastise 
ment,  but  it  is  also  an  honor  and  a  glory. 
Without  it  nothing  can  be  accomplished. 
All  that  is  great  in  man  comes  through 
work,  and  civilization  is  its  product.  Were 
labor  abolished,  the  race  of  Adam  were  at 
once  stricken  by  moral  death. 

It  is  idleness  that  is  the  curse  of  man — 
not  labor.  Idleness  eats  the  heart  out  of 
men  as  of  nations,  and  consumes  them  as 
rust  does  iron.  When  Alexander  conquered 
the  Persians,  and  had  an  opportunity  of 
observing  their  manners,  he  remarked  that 
they  did  not  seem  conscious  that  there  could 
be  anything  more  servile  than  a  life  of 


pleasure,  or  more  princely  than  a  life  of  toil. 
A  close  observer  of  men  and  things  told 
us  the  following  little  history,  which  we  hope 
will  plough  very  deeply  into  the  attention  of 
all  who  plough  very  shallow  in  their  soils. 
Two  brothers  settled  together  in  the  same 
county ;  one  of  them  on  a  cold,  ugly,  clay 
soil,  covered  with  black-jack  oak,  not  one 


LEWIS  BATES. 

of  which  was  large  enough  to  make  half  a 
dozen  rails.  This  man  would  never  drive 
any  but  large,  powerful  Conastoga  horses, 
some  seventeen  hands  high.  He  always  put 
three  horses  to  a  large  plough,  and  plunged 
it  in  some  ten  inches  deep.  This  deep 
ploughing  he  invariably  practiced,  and  culti 
vated  thoroughly  afterward.  He  raised  his 
seventy  bushels  of  corn  to  an  acre. 


122 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


This  man  had  a  brother  about  six  miles 
off,  settled  on  a  rich  White  River  bottom 
land  farm ;  and  while  a  black-jack  clay  soil 
yielded  seventy  bushels  to  an  acre,  this  fine 
bottom-land  would  not  average  fifty.  One 
brother  was  steadily  growing  rich  on  poor 
land,  and  the  other  steadily  growing  poor 
on  rich  land.  One  day  the  bottom-land 
brother  came  down  to  see  the  black-jack 


BATES'  APARTMENT  HOUSE,  CHICAGO, 

oak-farmer,  and  they  began  to  talk  about 
their  crops  and  farms,  as  farmers  are  very 
.apt  to  do. 

"  How  is  it,"  said  the  first,  "  that  you 
•manage  on  this  poor  soil  to  beat  me  in 
crops  ?  "  The  reply  was,  "  /  work  my  land," 
That  was  it  exactly.  Some  men  have  such 
rich  land  that  they  won't  work  it;  and  they 
never  get  a  step  beyond  where  they  began. 


They  rely  on  the  soil,  not  on  labor,  or  skill, 
or  care.  Some  men  expect  their  lands  to 
work,  and  some  men  expect  to  work  their 
lands;  that  is  just  the  difference  between  a 
good  and  a  bad  farmer. 

When  we  had  written  thus  far,  and  read  it 
to  our  informant,  he  said,  "  Three  years  ago 
I  travelled  again  through  that  section,  and 
the  only  good  farm  I  saw  was  this  very  one 
of  which  you  have  just  written.  All 
the  others  were  desolate — fences  down, 
cabins  abandoned,  the  settlers  discour 
aged  and  moved  off.  I  thought  I  saw 
the  same  stable  door,  hanging  by  one 
hinge,  that  used  to  disgust  me  ten  years 
before ;  and  I  saw  no  change,  except 
for  the  worse,  in  the  whole  county, 
with  the  single  exception  of  this  one 
farm." 

It  has  been  truly  said  that  to  desire 
to  possess  without  being  burdened 
with  the  trouble  of  acquiring  is  as 
much  a  sign  of  weakness,  as  to  recog 
nize  that  everything  worth  having  is 
only  to  be  got  by  paying  its  price  is 
the  prime  secret  of  practical  strength. 
Even  leisure  cannot  be  enjoyed  unless 
it  is  won  by  effort.  If  it  have  not 
been  earned  by  work,  the  price  has 
not  been  paid  for  it.  Life  must  needs 
be  disgusting  alike  to  tne  idle  rich 
man  as  to  the  idle  poor  man,  who 
has  no  work  to  do,  or,  having  work, 
will  not  do  it. 

A  remarkable  illustration  of  industry  and 
economy  is  Mr.  Lewis  Bates,  of  Chicago. 
By  these  sterling  qualities  he  has  become 
possessed  of  a  valuable  property,  his  apart 
ment  house  being  an  attractive  building  and 
complete  in  all  its  appointments.  Mr.  Bates 
has  been  a  worker,  and  while  he  has  worked 
he  has  saved  and  invested.  He  is  a  fine  illus 
tration  of  Afro-American  thrift. 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


123 


CARVE  OUT  YOUR  OWN  FORTUNE. 


THE  world  will  not  start  of  itself  and 
go  for  you.  You  must  make  it  go. 
It  will  not  turn  round  while  you 
look  on  and  do  nothing.  It  will 
turn  round  if  you  are  at  the  crank  to  make 
it  turn.  And  you  must  know  how  to  do  the 
turning.  Do  not  stand  still  and  look  on ; 
you  may  stand  and  stare  until  the  heavens 
roll  together  and  be  no  better  for  it.  You 
cannot  save  your  linen ;  it  will  get  soiled. 
Never  mind,  but  roll  up  your  sleeves  and  go 
at  it.  Better  soiled  linen  than  none  at  all. 
You  cannot  play  the  gentleman  if  you  ever 
expect  to  accomplish  anything  of  importance. 
Of  all  the  big  fortunes  in  New  York,  Phila 
delphia,  Chicago  and  other  cities,  every  one 
was  made  by  hard  work  and  "  horny  hands ; " 
not  one  would  know  a  pair  of  kid  gloves 
without  an  introduction. 

Much  will  be  done  if  we  do  but  try.  No 
body  knows  what  he  can  do  till  he  has  tried  ; 
and  few  try  their  best  till  they  have  been 
forced  to  do  it.  "If  I  could  do  such  and 
such  a  thing,"  sighs  the  desponding  youth. 
But  nothing  will  be  done  if  he  only  wishes. 
The  desire  must  ripen  into  purpose  and 
effort ;  and  one  energetic  attempt  is  worth  a 
thousand  aspirations.  It  is  these  thorny 
"  ifs  " — the  mutterings  of  impotence  and 
despair — which  so  often  hedge  round  the 
field  of  possibility,  and  prevent  anything 
being  done  or  even  attempted. 

"A  difficulty,"  says  a  well-known  author, 
"  is  a  thing  to  be  overcome  ; "  grapple  with 
it  at  once ;  facility  will  come  with  practice, 
and  strength  and  fortitude  with  repeated 
effort.  Thus  the  mind  and  character  may  be 
trained  to  an  almost  perfect  discipline,  and 
enabled  to  act  with  a  grace,  spirit  and  liberty, 
almost  incomprehensible  to  those  who  have 
not  passed  through  a  similar  experience. 


No  Afro-American  better  illustrates  these 
truths  than  the  Hon.  John  M.  Langston,  the 
only  colored  Representative  in  Congress  from 
the  Old  Dominion.  The  remarkable  story 
of  his  life  is  that  of.  the  first  colored  lawyer  ; 
the  powerful  anti-slavery  agitator;  the  re 
cruiter  of  the  famous  colored  regiments  ,  the 
earnest  worker  among  the  freedmen ;  the 
efficient  teacher  and  trusted  adviser ;  the 
faithful  holder  of  public  office;  the  able  poli 
tician  and  brilliant  statesman ;  the  popular 
leader  and  the  powerful  and  true  friend  of 
his  race  and  blood. 

A  Scholar  and  Orator. 

Mr.  Langston  was  born  in  Louisa  County, 
Va.,  on  the  1 4th  of  December,  1829.  Some 
time  previous  to  this,  his  mother  had  been 
set  at  liberty  by  her  master,  to  whom  she 
sustained  the  real,  yet  illegal,  relation  of 
wife.  Having  removed  to  Ohio,  John  was 
placed  in  the  public  school,  and  afterward 
completed  his  education  at  Oberlin  College. 
From  the  first  he  was  an  apt  scholar,  and 
gave  promise  of  a  distinguished  career. 

He  began  the  study  of  law  and  was  ad 
mitted  to  the  bar  in  1854.  Notwithstanding 
prejudice  on  account  of  his  race,  he  succeeded 
by  the  force  of  his  pre-eminent  ability  and 
showed  himself  to  be  fully  prepared  for  the 
demands  of  his  profession.  At  the  anniver 
sary  meeting  of  the  American  Anti-Slavery 
Society  in  1855  he  made  a  speech  that 
marked  him  at  once  as  an  orator. 

During  the  war  Mr.  Langston  was 
employed  by  the  government  to  recruit 
colored  troops,  in  which  capacity  he  was 
very  successful.  He  was  afterwards  ap 
pointed  General  Inspector  of  the  Bureau  of 
Refugees,  Freedmen  and  Abandoned  Lands. 
His  next  great  work  was  founding  and 


124 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


organizing  the  Law  Department  of  Howard 
University,  of  which  for  a  time  he  was 
the  acting  president.  In  1877  he  was 
appointed  Minister  to  Hayti,  discharging  the 
responsible  duties  of  this  position  with  signal 
ability.  He  then  accepted  the  presidency  of 
the  Virginia  Normal  and  Collegiate  Institute, 
where  he  was  greatly  beloved  and  was  con 
spicuously  successful. 

In  1888  he  was  elected  to  the  Fifty-First 


HON.  JOHN  MERCER  LANGSTON,  EX-CONGRESSMAN. 
'Congress.  His  election  was  contested,  as 
the  decree  had  gone  forth  that  no  colored 
man  would  be  allowed  to  represent  the 
Fourth  Congressional  District  of  Virginia, 
but  with  characteristic  pluck  he  fought  for 
his  seat,  won  the  contest,  and  made  his 
mark  in  the  halls  of  our  national  legislation. 
Mr.  Langston  has  reflected  great  honor  on 
his  race  and  is  a  rare  example  of  what  a 
resolute,  self-reliant,  persevering  man  can  do. 


He  has  carved  out  his  ovvit  'fortune  and  is 
deservedly  a  man  of  national  fame. 

Another  man  who  illustrates  the  same 
noble  traits  is 

PROF.  I.  GARLAND  PENN. 

Mr.  Penn  is  one  of  the  rising  men  of  the 
race;  in  fact,  he  has  already  risen.  He 
stands  at  the  very  summit  of  achievement 
and  fame.  He  was  born  in  the  year  1867, 
in  New  Glasgow,  a  small  village 
in  Amherst  County,  Va.  His 
father  and  mother,  Isham  Penn 
and  Mariah  Penn,  were  fully 
aware  of  the  superior  advantages 
of  a  public  school  training  to 
their  children,  and  moved  to  the 
City  of  Lynchburg  when  Irvine 
was  five  years  old. 

He  passed  with  success 
through  the  primary  and  gram 
mar  grades  of  the  schools,  and 
in  1882  entered  the  junior  class 
of  the  high  school.  Circum 
stances,  over  which  he  had  no 
control,  prevented  him  from  at 
tending  school  during  the  suc 
ceeding  school  year,  and,  in  con 
sequence,  he  taught  a  school  in 
Bedford  County,  Va.  After 
teaching  for  one  school  year,  he 
decided  to  re-enter  the  high 
school,  from  which  he  graduated 
in  1886,  having  taken  high  rank. 

The  subject  of  our  sketch  has  had  several 
years'  experience  as  a  teacher,  and  has  suc 
cessfully  managed  county  and  city  schools. 
During  1883-4  he  taught  with  credit  to  him 
self,  and  satisfaction  to  his  superintendent 
and  patrons,  a  school  in  Bedford  County, 
Va.  During  the  school  year  of  1886—7  he 
superintended  a  school  in  Amherst  County, 
Va.  In  1887  he  was  elected  as  a  teacher  in 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


125 


the  public  schools  of  Lynchburg,  and,  in  a 
short  time,  arose  to  the  position  of  principal. 
Though  he  is  young,  his  executive  ability 
enables  him  to  discharge  well  the  duties  of 
his  responsible  post. 

Mr.  Penn  seeks  to  inform  himself  on  the 
principles  and  methods  of  education.  He 
aims  to  keep  abreast  of  the  times  by  pur 
chasing  and  studying  the  works  of  leading 
writers  on  educational 
methods. 

He  accepted  a  position  on 
the  editorial  staff  of  The 
Lynchburg  Laborer  before  his 
graduation.  In  1886  Messrs. 
Penn  and  Johnson  purchased 
the  paper,  and  Mr.  Penn  took 
control  of  the  editorial  depart-  v 

ment.  The  paper  was  not 
properly  supported,  and  its 
publication  suspended.  As 
editor  of  this  paper  Mr.  Penn 
proved  himself  a  skilled  and 
forcible  writer.  Though  he 
was  only  twenty  years  of  age, 
he  evinced  a  good  acquaint 
ance  with  practical  life  and 
the  needs  of  the  race.  The 
unusual  ability  displayed  by 
this  youthful  editor  won  for 
him  encomiums  even  from 
several  white  editors  in  Vir 
ginia.  He  ardently  loves 
newspaper  work,  and  was  once  a  pleasing 
and  forcible  writer  for  The  Richmond  Planet 
and  Virginia  Lancet. 

Mr.  Penn  is  an  easy,  fluent  speaker, 
having  often  appeared  with  great  acceptance 
at  church  conferences  and  educational  con 
ventions,  where  his  burning  words  have 
deeply  stirred  the  hearts  of  his  hearers  and 
awakened  unusual  enthusiasm.  In  all  the 
many  positions  he  has  occupied  in  connec 


tion  with  religious  and  educational  work,  he 
has  shown  marked  ability,  and  is  unquestion 
ably  the  best  posted  man  of  our  race  in 
educational  statistics. 

Prof.  Penn  is  the  author  of  a  very  valua 
ble  work  entitled  "The  Afro-American 
Press,"  giving  a  full  description  of  the 
journals  published  by  the  race,  and  graphic 
sketches  of  our  leading  editors  and  writers. 


EDWARD  A.  JOHNSON,  LL.B. 

This  work  has  been  highly  commended  by  a 
large  number  of  journals  without  distinction 
of  race.  We  take  pleasure  in  stating  here 
that  Prof.  Penn  is  a  valued  contributor  to 
this  volume,  THE  COLLEGE  OF  LIFE. 

He  possesses  sterling  qualities,  is  a  tren 
chant  writer,  a  fine  orator,  a  staunch  Chris 
tian,  and  bears  an  untarnished  reputation. 
He  has  shown  the  mastery  of  his  oratory  in 
addresses  and  orations  which  he  has  delivered 


126 


iHE    GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


HON.  N.  WRIGHT  CUNEY. 

before  many  assemblies.  He  strives  hard  in 
the  upbuilding  of  his  race,  and  is  meeting 
with  unbounded  success.  His  pupils  love 
and  respect  him,  and  look  up  to  him  as  their 
leader.  He  is  very  unassuming.  His  talents 
do  not  cause  him  to  soar  so  high  as  not  to 
be  polite,  sociable  and  ready  to  help  those 
by  whom  he  is  surrounded. 

The  list  is  not  by  any  means  exhausted  of 
those  who  have  carved  out  their  own  fortunes 
and  have  risen  to  eminence  by  the  might  of 
their  own  inherent  ability  and  determination. 
One  of  the  most  conspicuous  is  Edward  A. 
Johnson,  LL.B.,  a  brilliant  member  of  the 
North  Carolina  Bar,  distinguished  jurist, 


Professor  of  Legal  Forms 
in  the  Law  Department 
of  Shaw  University, 
Raliegh,  N.  C,  and 
author  of  the  "Negro 
School  History  in  the 
United  States."  He 
doesn't  have  to  go  on 
crutches ;  he  is  a  man 
who  can  stand  up  and 
walk  alone,  being  pos 
sessed  of  great  ability 
and  constantly  exempli 
fying  the  grand  traits  of 
industry  and  self-re 
liance. 

Another  man  of  simi 
lar  make-up  is  Hon.  N. 
Wright  Cuney,  of  Texas, 
This  man  is  a  born  leader 
of  men.     Indeed  it  must 
be  said,  that  the  race  has 
not  yet  produced  his  su 
perior   as    an    organizer 
and   captain   of  political 
forces    and    movements. 
Without    disparagement 
of  others,  nevertheless  it 
must  be  conceded  he  stands  at  the  head,  is 
chief  of  that  brilliant  and  active   coterie  of 
race    leaders    which    has    given    to    Texas 
such  enviable  consideration  among  her  sis 
ter  States. 

His  race  and  his  race's  welfare  is  at  all 
times  his  first,  last  and  only  objective  point 
of  attainment  and  effort,  and  in  the  service  of 
the  greater  object,  he  allows  neither  the  oppo 
sition  of  personal  friends  to  deter  or  the 
malignancy  of  political  foes  to  stampede  him. 
Being  essentially  a  politician,  he  understands 
the  art  of  influencing  men  and  votes.  He 
ranks  with  Douglass,  Bruce  and  Lynch,  and 
is  worthy  of  great  honor  and  praise.  He 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


127 


has  been  Collector  of  the  Port  of  Galveston, 
and  is  a  member  of  the  National  Republican 
Committee. 

In  the  same  list  of  shining  names  must  be 
placed  that  of  F.  A.  Denison.  He  was  born 
in  Texas,  and  has  attracted  universal  atten 
tion  by  his  championship  of  Afro-American 
rights.  He  was  representative  for  Western 
Texas  at  the  Annual  Convention  held  at 
Nashville  in  September,  1883,  and  this  was 
his  starting  point  upon  the  road  to  success. 
With  undaunted  courage  and  perseverance 
he  surmounted  the  obstacles  in  his  path  and 
pushed  himself  to  a  place  in  the  front  ranks. 

He  graduated  from  Lincoln  University, 
Texas,  in  1888,  and  came  to  Chicago  and 
entered  the  Union  College  of  Law  in  Septem 
ber  of  the  same  year.  He  surprised  the 
faculty  by  taking  his  examination  and  being 
admitted  to  the  bar  in  March,  1889.  But 
his  ambition  was  not  yet  satisfied  and  he 


continued  in  the  college  and  graduated  June 
9,  1890,  with  the  valedictory  of  his  class, 
and  is  the  only  colored  man  in  the  history  of 


F.  A.  DENISON,  A.B.,  LL.D. 

the  college  to  receive  such  honors.  In  1891 
Mr.  Denison  was  appointed  assistant  prose 
cuting  attorney  of  Chicago,  which  position 
he  has  filled  with  marked  ability. 


PATIENCE. 


PATIENCE  always  belongs  to  great 
characters.     Only  little  people  are 
habitually  impatient.     They  make 
a  clatter ;  so  does  an  empty  cart. 
They  cannot  bear  to  be  crossed.    They  must 
have  everything  their  own  way,  and  gener 
ally  it  is  a  very  poor  way.     When  they  die 
their  friends  have  a  rest. 

"I  remember,"  says  John  Wesley,  "hear 
ing  my  father  say  to  my  mother,  'How 
could  you  have  the  patience  to  tell  that 
blockhead  the  same  thing  twenty  times 
over  ? '  '  Why,'  said  she,  '  if  I  had  told  him 
but  nineteen  times,  I  should  have  lost  all  my 
labor.' " 

The  world  was  created  during  epochs  of 
time.  Rome  was  not  built  in  a  day.  You 
did  not  grow  to  man's  stature  over  night. 
There  is  seed-time  and  afterward  harvest. 


Do  not  think  that  everything  can  come  at 
once.  Possess  your  soul  in  patience.  Do 
not  expect  impossibilities,  but  simply  the 
possible,  for  which  proper  efforts  have  been 
made.  Patience  is  not  in  conflict  with 
enthusiasm.  The  one  is  co-partner  with 
the  other.  Neither  will  get  far  without  the 
other.  Together  they  are  invincible. 

Most   of  us    have    had   troubles    all   our 
lives,  and  each  day  has  brought  more  evil 
than  we  wished  to  endure.     But  if  we  were 
asked  to   recount  the  sorrows  of  our  lives,  , 
how  many  could  we  remember  ?  How  many  * 
that  are  six  months   old  should  we  think 
worthy  to    be  remembered    or  mentioned  ? 
To-day's  troubles  look   large,   but    a  week 
hence  they  will    be    forgotten     and   buried 
out  of  sight. 

Patience  is  the  guardian  of  faith,  the  pre- 


128 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


server  of  peace,  the  cherisher  of  love,  the 
teacher  of  humility.  Patience  governs  the 
flesh,  strengthens  the  spirit,  stifles  anger, 
extinguishes  envy,  subdues  pride  ;  she  bridles 
the  tongue,  refrains  the  hand,  tramples  upon 
temptations,  endures  persecutions,  consum 
mates  martyrdom.  Patience  produces  unity 
in  the  church,  loyalty  in  the  State,  harmony 
in  families  And  societies  ;  she  comforts  the 


PROF.  W.  S.  SCARBOROUGH,  LL.D. 

poor  and  moderates  the  rich  ;  she  makes  us 
humble  in  prosperity,  cheerful  in  adversity, 
unmoved  by  calumny  and  reproach ;  she 
teaches  us  to  forgive  those  who  have  injured 
us,  and  to  be  first  in  asking  forgiveness  of 
those  whom  we  have  injured;  she  delights 
the  faithful,  and  invites  the  unbelieving  ;  she 
adorns  the  woman,  and  improves  the  man ; 
is  loved  in  a  child,  praised  in  a  young  man, 
and  admired  in  an  old  man. 


Be  patient  with  your  pains  and  cares.  We 
know  it  is  easy  to  say  and  hard  to  do.  But 
you  must  be  patient.  These  things  are 
killed  by  enduring  them,  and  made  strong  to 
bite  and  sting  by  feeding  them  with  frets  and 
fears.  There  is  no  pain  or  care  that  can  last 
long.  None  of  them  shall  enter  the  city  of 
God.  A  little  while  and  you  shall  leave 
behind  you  the  whole  troop  of  howling 
troubles,  and  forget  in  your  first 
sweet  hour  of  rest  that  such  things 
were  on  earth. 

This  cardinal  virtue  is  especially 
required  by  our  race,  whose 
wrongs  are  so  many,  who  have 
such  prejudices  to  overcome,  and 
who  have  so  much  yet  to  accom 
plish  before  we  can  gain  the  high 
position  we  hope  to  attain. 

One  of  the    most   remarkable 
examples  of  this  quality  in  pursu 
ing  one  great  object  is  found  in 
that  bright  ornament  of  our  race, 
Prof.  W.  S.  Scarborough.     It  is 
only  by  slow  and  patient  labor 
that  any  man  can  gain  such  dis 
tinction  as  a  scholar  and  man  of 
letters.     He  was  born  at  Macon, 
Bibb  County,  Ga.,  February  16 1 
1852,  and  began  school  at  the  age 
of  six  years.     He  early  showed  a 
disposition  for  study  and  although 
nominally  a  slave  he  succeeded, 
by  stealing  out  unseen  with  his  books  and 
by  such  aid  as  was  given  him  by  his  white 
playmates,  in  learning  the  rudiments,  and  at 
the  age  of  ten  he  was  able  to  act  as  secretary 
for  various  colored  organizations  for  which 
services  he  received  a  small  remuneration. 

As  soon  as  they  were  able  to  do  so,  his 
parents  sent  him  to  school,  and  in  1867  he 
entered  the  Louis  High  School  and  finished 
in  1 869,  going  at  once  to  Atlanta  University 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


129 


and  from  there  to  Oberlin  College.  He 
graduated  from  this  institution  in  1875  and 
went  to  Macon  and  taught  Latin,  Greek  and 
mathematics.  He  soon  returned,  however, 
to  Oberlin  and  took  up  the  study  of  Helen- 
istic  Greek  and  Hebrew. 

He  was  Principal  of  the 
Pane  Institute,  now  Allen 
University  of  Columbia, 
S.  C. ;  established  the  first 
post  office  at  Wilberforce, 
and  was  made  postmaster, 
and  established  and  became 
president  of  .the  first  young 
men's  reading  room.  In 
1 88 1  he  was  associate  editor 
of  the  Authors'  Review  and 
Scrap  Book,  and  is  the 
author  of  an  excellent 
Greek  text  book  and  of 
several  able  papers. 

Mr.  Scarborough  is  a 
member  of  a  number  of 
educational  associations 
and  lodges  and  is  a  very 
able  scientific  lecturer.  He 
received  the  degree  of  B.A. 
at  Oberlin  in  1875;  A.M. 
in  1 878,  and  LL.D.  in  West 
Africa  from  Liberia  College, 
in  1878,  and  was  married  in 
1883  to  the  talented  writer 
and  teacher,  Miss  Sarah  C. 
Bierce.  His  educational 
works  hold  the  highest 
rank  even  in  institutions 
of  learning  attended  only  by  white  pupils. 

Another  and  similar  example  may  well  be 
placed  in  connection  with  the  foregoing. 
We  refer  to  that  distinguished  author,  educa 
tor  and  clergyman,  Rev.  W.  J.  Simmons,  D.D. 

In    Charleston,    S.    C.,    June    29,    1849, 
Edward  and  Esther  Simmons,  two   slaves, 
I 


added  to  their  fortune  the  subject  of  this 
sketch  who,  though  born  in  poverty  and 
shrouded  in  obscurity,  was  destined  to  make 
for  himself  a  name  honored  among  men. 
At  an  early  period  the  mother  went  to  Phila 
delphia  where  she  and  her  family  were  met 



PRES.  W.  J.  SIMMONS,  D.D. 

by  an  uncle  who  had  gone  North  some  time 
before,  and  who  cared  for  the  little  family  as 
best  as  he  was  able  to  do.  They  were  hunted 
by  slave  traders,  who  seemed  determined  to 
burrow  them  out  of  their  hiding  place  in  the 
little  rooms  back  of  the  room  used  by  their 
benefactor  as  a  shoemaker's  shop. 


THE    GUIDE   TO    SUCCESS. 


WILEY   JONES. 

At  last  under  the  stress  of  disease  and 
danger,  and  finding  that  he  could  not  make 
a  living,  the  uncle  determined  to  go  to  sea. 
For  two  years  the  family  remained  in  Rox- 
bury,  Pa.,  when  the  uncle  returned  and 
took  them  to  Chester  where  he  was  able 
to  do  a  good  business,  but  they  were  soon 
obliged  to  move,  on  account  of  the  slave 
traders,  and  were  smuggled  to  Philadel 
phia.  During  his  young  life,  William's 
heart  was  not  gladdened  by  toys  so  dear 
to  the  young,  and  often  for  weeks  his 
only  food  was  milk  and  mush.  He  never 
attended  a  public  school  in  his  whole 
school  life,  but  was  given  a  rudimentary 
education  by  his  uncle,  so  that  college 
studies  came  quite  easy  to  him. 

He  served  a  year  in  the  army  with 
the  colored  troops,  and  in  1871  entered 
Howard    University  and    graduated   as   4 
B.A.  in  1873.     His  college  life  was  full    v 
of  privations  and  sacrifices  as  his  early   J 
youth  had  been,  but  the  happiness  he 
experienced  on  the  day  he  graduated, 
with  the  salutatory  of  his  class,  repaid 
him  for  all.    In  1879  we  find  mm  teach 
ing  public  school  in  Washington,  D.  C., 


and  having  been  ordained  in  the  Baptist 
Church  in  1874,  he  accepted  the  pastorate 
of  the  First  Baptist  Church,  Lexington,  Ky. 

He  soon  rose  to  be  president  of  the  State 
University,  Louisville,  Ky.,  and  gained  wide 
celebrity  as  a  man  of  varied  accomplishments 
and  vast  influence.  Dr.  Simmons  is  well 
known  as  an  educator  and  author.  He  died 
in  October,  1890. 

What  patient  working  and  waiting  can 
accomplish  is  shown  in  the  striking  career  of 
Mr.  Wiley  Jones,  a  man  of  wealth  and 
prominence  in  the  financial  world.  He  was 
born  in  Madison  County,  Ga.,  July  14,  1848, 
and  was  taken  by  his  master  to  Arkansas, 
where  he  served  as  house  boy  and  drove  the 
carriage.  From  here  he  went  to  Waco, 
Texas,  but  soon  returned  and  went  to  work 
on  a  farm  at  $20.00  per  month. 

In  1868  he  began  work  as  a  barber  and 
continued  until  1881,  when  he  went  into  the 
tobacco  and  cigar  business,  through  which 
he  achieved  his  success.  He  secured  a 
charter  to  run  a  street  car  in  Pine  Bluff,  his 


ISAIAH  T.  MONTGOMERY. 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


present  residence,  and  ran  the  first  car  over 
one  and  one  quarter  miles  of  track  on 
October  19,  1886.  He  is  sole  owner  of  the 
grounds  on  which  the  Colored  Industrial 
and  Fair  Association  hold  their  session.  He 
has  achieved  all  by  his  natural  ability  and 
patient  industry. 

Another  illustration  is  found  in  Mr.  Isaiah 
T.  Montgomery,  general  merchant  and  suc 
cessful  business  man,  Mound  Bayou,  Miss. 


He  was  at  one  time  the  slave  of  Jefferson 
Davis  of  the  Southern  Confederacy.  He 
was  the  only  Afro-American  member  of  the 
Mississippi  Constitutional  Convention,  which 
disfranchised  the  Afro-American  in  that 
State.  Mr.  Montgomery  is  a  scholar  and  a 
prominent  man  of  the  race  in  his  State,  and 
by  slow  and  steady  steps  has  reached  a  posi 
tion  of  honor  and  influence,  being  very 
widely  known  and  respected. 


MENTAL  AND   PHYSICAL  CULTURE. 


EDUCATE    every   part    of   yourself. 
Your  whole  mental  and  physical 
nature  should  be  developed  to  ths 
highest  point.     How  are  you  to  do 
it  ?     Certainly  not  without  effort.    You  must 
work  with  a  will.     And   don't  be   satisfied 
with  a  smattering  of  knowledge.     Draw  the 
deepest  water  from  the  well ;  put  forth  your 
grandest  powers  ;  hold  steadily  to  your  pur 
pose  and  do  not  give  up  in  discouragement. 
Look  to  the  noble  men  who  have  risen  to 
distinction     by     self-improvement,     several 
sketches  of  whom  are  here  furnished. 

BISHOP  B.  W.  ARNETT. 

This  bright  ornament  of  his  race  rose  step 
by  step  until  he  reached  the  highest  place  in 
the  gift  of  his  brethren,  being  the  seventeenth 
Bishop  of  the  A.  M.  E.  Church.  He  was 
born  at  Brownsville,  Fayette  County,  Pa., 
March  6,  1838,  and  joined  the  church 
in  1856,  Rev.  Lewis  Gross,  pastor.  He 
was  licensed  to  preach  March,  1865,  at 
Union  Bethel  Church,  Washington,  D.  C, 
and  joined  the  Travelling  Connection  April, 
1867,  at  Lexington,  Ky. 

In  April,  1868,  he  was  ordained  deacon 
by  Bishop  William  Paul  Quinn,  and  elder  at 
Xenia,  Ohio,  April,  1870,  by  Bishop  D.  A. 
Payne.  He  was  elected  financial  secretary 


May,  1880,  at  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  and  re-elected 
at  Baltimore,  Md.,  in  1884;  was  chosen 
Bishop,  May,  1888,  and  ordained  May,  1888, 
at  Indianapolis,  Ind.,  by  Bishop  A.  W. 
Wayman  and  others. 

This  is  only  a  meagre  sketch  of  one  of 
our  most  successful  scholars  and  Bishops, 
who  has  risen  to  eminence  by  self-culture 
and  diligent  effort. 

PRES.  S.  T.  MITCHELL,  A.M. 

President  Mitchell  was  born  September  24, 
1851,  in  Toledo,  Ohio,  to  David  and  Nancy 
A.  Mitchell.  From  six  to  thirteen  he  was  in 
the  public  schools  of  Cleveland  and  Cincinnati, 
and  in  1864  entered  Wilberforce  University, 
where  he  was  converted  in  1865.  He  helped 
to  organize  and  named  the  Sodalian  Society 
and  was  teacher  at  the  University.  Poverty 
compelled  him  to  labor  on  all  the  farms  in 
the  vicinity,  yet  he  graduated  with  highest 
honors  from  the  classical  course,  June,  1873. 
He  taught  at  Wilmington,  Ohio,  two  years 
and  was  Principal  of  Lincoln  Institute, 
Jefferson  City,  Mo. 

He  helped  organize  the  Colored  State 
Teachers'  Association,  and  was  its  first  presi 
dent  ;  drew  up  and  secured  the  passage  of 
the  bill  which  opened  the  doors  in  St.  Louis, 
Kansas  City  and  elsewhere  to  colored 


132 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


teachers;  was  licensed  to  preach  1875; 
principal  in  Springfield,  Ohio,  five  years,  on 
ten  years'  certificate ;  lay  delegate  to 
General  Conference,  at  Baltimore,  in  1 884 ; 
author  of  Endowment  Day  and  general 
educational  scheme,  under  which  the  con 
nection  has  since  operated. 

He  received  the  degree  of  A.M.  from  his 
Alma  Mater  in  1881,  and  was  elected  Presi 
dent  of  Wilberforce  University  in  1884.  He 
has  seen  his  institution  double  in  students, 


PROF.  PETER  H.  CLARK. 

in  property  value,  in  endowment,  and  treble 
in  faculty  and  in  annual  income.  He 
planned  and  secured  under  statute,  the 
organization  of  the  State  Normal  and  Indus 
trial  Department  at  the  University,  which 
receives  $ \  2,500  per  annum  from  the  State  of 
Ohio.  He  received  the  honor  of  LL.D. 
from  the  State  University  of  Kentucky,  in 
'1889,  and  appointment  by  United  States 
Commissioner  Harris,  as  a  vice-president  of 
the  Educational  Congress  at  the  Columbian 


Exposition.  Under  his  direction,  Wilber 
force  University  was  represented  at  New 
Orleans  Exposition,  World's  Fair,  Paris,  and 
at  the  Columbian  Exposition.  He  secured 
for  it  the  first  Military  Department  organized 
in  a  colored  institution  under  Congressional 
enactment  and  the  patronage  of  the  General 
Government. 

Other  names  that  illustrate  the  value  of 
culture  are  ready  at  hand. 

Few  men  are  better  known  than  Professor 
P.  H.  Clark,  who  was  born  in  March, 
1829.  He  was  a  great  student  even  in 
youth  and  early  showed  an  ability  for 
all  kinds  of  learning.  In  1844  ne 
entered  the  high  school  of  Cincinnati, 
and  by  the  correctness  of  his  habits  and 
his  faithfulness  in  all  things  he  was  given 
an  assistant's  place  in  the  school,  and 
continued  his  studies  in  the  higher 
branches.  He  left  school  in  1848  and 
apprenticed  himself  to  a  stereotyper, 
which  trade  he  learned  thoroughly. 
The  man  with  whom  he  worked  sold 
out  the  business  and  moved  away,  and 
when  Mr.  Clark  sought  employment 
with  his  successor  he  was  refused  work 
on  account  of  his  color. 

In  1 849  the  Ohio  Legislature  passed 
a  measure  allowing  colored  people  to 
own  and  control  schools,  and  he  was 
given  a  position  as  teacher.  After  three 
months  the  council  refused  to  pay  him  on 
the  ground  that  colored  people,  not  being 
voters  and  citizens,  could  not  be  trustees  and 
employing  them  as  teachers  was  not  legal. 
When  the  case  was  taken  to  the  Supreme 
Court  the  law  was  declared  sound  and  the 
colored  trustees  sustained. 

In-  1850  he  started  to  Africa  but  got  no 
farther  than  New  Orleans,  and  returned  to 
Cincinnati  and  took  an  active  part  in  the 
State  Convention  in  which  the  "emigrant 


THE   GUIDE   TO    SUCCESS. 


133 


movement"  was   discussed.      He   filled  the  '       Two  months  afterward  he  was  appointed 


editorial  chair  of  the  free  soil  paper  printed  ' 
at  Newport,  Ky.,  and  in  1856  he  was  on  the 
staff  of  Fred  Douglass'  paper.  In  1857  he 
was  recalled  to  the  public  schools,  to  which 
he  added  later  a  high  school  called  the 
Gains  High  School,  of  which  he  was  princi 
pal  for  thirty  years. 

To  his  humanity  and  tender  heart  are  due 
the  laws  which  provided  for  the  care  of  the 
pauper  and  insane  colored  of  the 
State.  In  1853  the  National  Con 
vention  of  Colored  Men  met  in 
Syracuse.  He  drafted  a  constitu 
tion  of  the  "  National  Equal 
Rights  League,"  which  did  so 
much  to  instruct  and  control  our 
people.  As  a  politician  he  has  the 
varying  fortunes  incident  to  such 
a  life  and  has  been  an  important 
factor  in  municipal  and  national 
affairs.  The  degree  of  A.M.  was 
conferred  upon  him  at  Wilber- 
force.  He  has  often  had  small 
offices  offered  him  but  has  refused 
all.  He  will  be  no  man's  servant 
to  run  at  his  beck  and  call.  A 
white  man  of  his  ability  would  be 
president  of  a  State  college  or 
Governor  of  the  State. 

The  profession  of  medicine  has 
furnished  many  cultured  men, 
among  them  Charles  B.  Purvis, 
A.  M.,  M.  D.  He  was  born  in 
phia  and  at  the  age  of  two  was  taken  to 
Byberry,  a  small  village  near  Philadelphia, 
where  he  spent  his  early  life  in  the  pursuit  of 
farm  work,  having  but  little  opportunity  for 
education.  In  1860  he  went  to  Oberlin  and 
remained  for  two  years,  and  in  1862  entered 
the  Medical  College  of  the  Western  Reserve 
at  Cleveland,  Ohio,  from  which  school  he 
graduated  in  1865. 


Acting  Assistant  Surgeon  with  the  rank  of 
of  First  Lieutenant  in  the  army,  which  ap 
pointment  he  accepted  and  held  for  two 
years.  He  acted  as  Professor  of  Medical 
Jurisprudence  in  Howard  University  for  five 
years,  and  was  then  called  to  the  chair  of 
obstretics  and  women's  and  children's 
diseases.  At  the  same  time  he  was  elected 
Secretary  of  the  Medical  Faculty  and  still 


Philadel- 


DR.  CHARLES  B.  PURVIS,  A.M. 

holds  that  position.  He  is  also  surgeon  in 
charge  of  the  Freedmen's  Hospital,  to  which 
place  he  was  appointed  by  President  Authur. 
Another  name  that  should  be  mentioned 
in  this  connection  is  that  of  Hon.  George  W. 
Williams.  He  was  born  at  Bedford  Springs, 
Pa.,  and  at  the  age  of  three  years  was  taken 
to  New  Castle,  Pa.  His  early  education 
comprised  two  years  with  a  private  tutor, 
four  years  at  the  common  and  high  school, 


134 


THE   GUIDE  TO    SUCCESS. 


two  years  at  the  academy  and  four  years  at 
Newton  Centre,  Mass. 

He  served  in  the  war  and  was  raised  to  the 
rank  of  Sergeant  Major  of  his  regiment.  He 
served  in  the  army  in  the  United  States  and 
Mexico  until  1868,  when  he  was  converted 
and  left  off  fighting  and  went  to  St.  Louis, 
Mo.  From  1868  to  1874  he  devoted  him 
self  to  study  and  graduated  from  the  Newton 
Theological  Institution. 


HON.  GEORGE  W.  WILLIAMS. 

He  was  authorized  to  preach  in  1871  and 
accepted  a  call  to  the  Twelfth  Street  Baptist 
Church,  Chicago;  while  there  he  wrote  a  his 
tory  of  the  church.  He  resigned  and  went 
to  Washington  City  and  from  there  took 
charge  of  the  Union  Baptist  Church  of  Cin 
cinnati  for  one  year,  accepting  the  appoint 
ment  as  Internal  Revenue  Storekeeper  and 
Secretary  in  the  Auditor's  Office  of  the  fund 
to  build  the  Cincinnati  Southern  Railroad. 


He  studied  law  in  the  Cincinnati  Law 
School  and  was  admitted  to  the  Bar  in 
1 88 1,  and  to  the  Supreme  Court  in  1885, 
and  has  been  a  member  of  the  G.  A.  R. 
for  many  years.  His  history  of  the 
"Negro  Race  in  America,  from  1819  to 
1880,"  and  "Negro's  as  Slaves,  as  Sold 
iers  and  as  Citizens,"  are  his  master 
pieces  and  are  accepted  by  the  people  as 
standards.  He  has  written  many  histories 
and  sketches  and  has  been  freely 
and  favorably  criticised  by  the 
leading  magazines. 

John  Quincy  Adams,  the  able 
editor  of  The  Appeal,  the  leading 
Afro-American  journal,  was  born 
in  Louisville,  Ky.,  in  1849.  His 
father  was  the  most  prominent 
Afro-American  Baptist  minister 
the  State  has  produced.  Before 
leaving  his  native  State  Mr.  Adams 
was  quite  prominent  in  the  coun 
cils  of  the  Republican  party,  serv 
ing  on  the  State  and  City  Execu 
tive  Committees,  and  was  a  dele 
gate  to  the  Republican  National 
Convention  of  1880. 

He  was  in  the  Revenue  Service 
in  Kentucky  for  five  years.     For 
seven  years  he  was  editor  of  The 
Bulletin    in    Louisville.       In    this 
work  he  gained  a  national  reputa 
tion  and  was  elected  as  first  Presi 
dent  of  the  Afro-American  Press  Association. 
In  the  early  7o's  he  resided  in  Arkansas  and 
was  elected  Justice  of  the  Peace  on  the  same 
ticket  with  President  Grant. 

Afterward  he  was  Assistant  Superintendent 
of  Public  Instruction  of  the  State.  He  was 
also  in  the  Senate  of  Arkansas.  In  1884  he 
began  the  publication  of  The  Appeal,  now 
recognized  as  a  leading  publication  of  its 
class.  He  resides  in  the  City  of  St.  Paul, 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


135 


Minn.,  where  he  is  editor-in-chief  and  has 
charge  of  the  St.  Paul  edition  of  The  Appeal. 
Mr.  Adams  has  been  recognized  by  his  party 
in  Minnesota  and  had  the  honor  of  being  the 
first  Afro-American  delegate  to  a  State  con 
vention  in  that  State. 

One  of  the  most  prominent  men  in  West 
Virginia  is  T.  R.  Clifford,  who  was  born  at  Wil- 

o  J 

liamsport,  Grant  County,  W.  Va.,  September 
13,  1849.  At  an  early  age  he  was  taken  to 
Georgia  and  given  a  rudimentary  education. 
Early  in  his  career  he  followed  the  trade  of  a 
barber,  but  was  ambitious  for  knowledge  and 


J.  R.  CLIFFORD. 

accordingly  went  to  Muskingum  County, 
W.  Va.,  and  took  a  diploma  from  Mr. 
White's  School  of  Writing.  For  four  years 
he  taught  writing  and  then  went  to  Harper's 
Ferry  and  graduated  from  Storer's  College 
of  that  place. 

He  was  ten  years  Principal  of  the  Martins- 
burg  Public  School  and  is  now  editor  of  the 
Pioneer  Press.  Mr.  Clifford  is  a  fearless  Re 
publican,  and  was  elected  delegate  to  the 
State  Convention,  and  was  Commissioner  of 
the  Colored  Department  of  the  New  Orleans 
Exposition.  He  is  a  lawyer  and  an  orator 
of  some  note,  and  served  in  the  war,  first,  as 


corporal  in  the  heavy  artillery  and  afterwards 
as  nurse. 

To  the  foregoing  names  may  well  be  added 
that  of  Mr.  J.  D.  Baltimore,  the  well-known 
engineer  and  inventor.  He  first  saw  the 
light  in  Washington,  D.  C,  April,  1852,  and 
early  disclosed  a  genius  for  mechanism.  His 
genius  brought  him  to  the  notice  of  the  press 
by  exhibitions  of  engines  made  by  him  from 
old  pieces  of  tin,  etc.  He  applied  to  Presi 
dent  Grant,  who  sent  him  to  the  navy  yards 
of  Washington  as  apprentice.  The  insults 
heaped  upon  him  by  reason  of  prejudice  led 


J.  D.  BALTIMORE. 

to  his  transfer  to  the  naval  yards  of  PhiladeL 
phia.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  men  and 
boys  with  whom  he  was  thrown  refused  to 
show  or  help  him,  he  succeeded  by  dint  of 
studying  all  his  spare  time,  in  securing  ad 
mission  to  the  Franklin  Institute. 

He  graduated  in  1873,  and  was  at  once 
detailed  to  the  naval  station  at  League  Island 
to  help  repair  United  States  monitors.  He 
found  great  difficulty  in  securing  employ 
ment  at  his  trade,  but  after  many  rebuffs  he 
was  given  a  position  with  Sellers  &  Bros. 
He  has  been  engineer  of  the  United  States 
Coast  Survey  at  Washington,  and  engineer 


136 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


and  mechanician  of  the  Freedmen's  Hospital. 
He  is  the  inventor  of  a  pyrometer  and  is  a 
member  of  the  Mechanics'  Union,  where  his 
ability  is  known  and  acknowledged. 


These  illustrations  of  the  great  advantage 
derived  from  the  culture  of  the  whole  man 
ought  to  be  strong  incentives  to  the  rising 
generations  of  colored  youth. 


PENNIES  SAVED   MAKE  DOLLARS. 


LET  no  man  say  that  he  cannot  econo 
mize.     There  are  few  persons  that 
could  not   contrive  to  save  some 
thing  weekly.   In  twenty  years  one 
dollar  saved  weekly  would  amount  to  one 
thousand  and  forty  dollars,  to  say  nothing  of 
interest.      Some  may  say  that  they  cannot 
save  nearly  so  much.     Well !    begin  some 
where  ;  at  all  events,  make  a  beginning.     It 
is  the  habit  of  economizing  and  denying  one's 
self  that  needs  to  be  formed. 

Economy  does  not  require  superior  cour 
age,  nor  superior  intellect,  nor  any  super 
human  virtue.  It  merely  requires  common 
sense,  and  the  power  of  resisting  selfish 
enjoyments.  In  fact,  thrift  is  merely  com 
mon  sense  in  every-day  working  action.  It 
needs  no  fervent  resolution,  but  only  a  little 
patient  self-denial.  BEGIN  is  its  device  !  The 
more  the  habit  of  thrift  is  practiced,  the  easier 
it  becomes,  and  the  sooner  it  compensates 
the  self-denier  for  the  sacrifices  which  it  has 
imposed. 

The  question  may  be  asked  :  "  Is  it  pos 
sible  for  a  man  working  for  small  wages  to 
save  anything,  and  lay  it  by  in  a  savings- 
bank,  when  he  requires  every  penny  for  the 
maintenance  of  his  family  ?  But  the  fact  re 
mains  that  it  is  done  by  many  industrious 
and  sober  men  ;  that  they  do  deny  them 
selves,  and  put  their  spare  earnings  into 
savings-banks  and  the  other  receptacles 
provided  for  poor  men's  savings.  And  if 
some  can  do  this,  all  may  do  it  under  similar 
circumstances,  without  depriving  themselves 
of  any  genuine  pleasure  or  any  real  enjoyment. 


How  intensely  selfish  is  it  for  anyone  in 
the  receipt  of  good  pay  to  spend  everything 
upon  himself;  or,  if  he  has  a  family,  to  spend 
his  whole  earnings  from  week  to  week,  and 
lay  nothing  by.  When  we  hear  that  a  man 
who  has  been  in  the  receipt  of  a  good  salary 
has  died  and  left  nothing  behind  him — that 
he  has  left  his  wife  and  family  destitute — left 
them  to  chance — to  live  or  perish  anywhere 
— we  cannot  but  regard  it  as  the  most  selfish 
thriftlessness.  And  yet  comparatively  little 
is  thought  of  such  cases.  Perhaps  the  hat 
goes  round.  Subscriptions  may  produce 
something — perhaps  little ;  and  the  ruined 
remnants  of  the  unhappy  family  sink  into 
poverty  and  destitution. 

Look  at  the  Pennies. 

Letters  joined  make  words, 
And  words  to  books  may  grow 

As  flake  on  flake,  descending, 
Forms  an  avalanche  of  snow. 

A  single  utterance  may  good 

Or  evil  thoughts  inspire  ; 
One  little  spark,  enkindled, 

May  set  a  town  on  fire. 

What  volumes  may  be  written 

With  little  drops  of  ink  ! 
How  small  a  leak,  unnoticed, 

A  mighty  ship  will  sink  ! 

A  tiny  insect's  labor 

Makes  the  coral  strand, 
And  mighty  seas  are  girdled 

With  grains  of  golden  sand. 

A  daily  penny,  saved, 

A  fortune  may  begin  ; 
A  daily  penny,  squandered, 

May  lead  to  vice  and  sin. 


THE   GUIDE  TO   SUCCESS. 


137 


Our  life  is  made  entirely 

Of  moments  multiplied, 
As  little  streamlets,  joining, 

Form  the  ocean's  tide. 

Now  for  some  examples  of  those  who,  by 
economy  and  tact,  have  gained  positions  of 
comfort,  if  not  of  affluence.  One  is  Dr. 
Charles  E.  Bently.  He  was»  born  in  Cincin 
nati  in  1859.  His  professional  career  is 
interesting  in  that  he  has  had  repeated  com 
pliments  conferred  upon  him  by  the  dental 
profession  of  which  he  is  an  honored 
member.  He  was  the  only  Afro-Ameri 
can  member  of  a  class  of  sixty  that  grad 
uated  in  1887  from  the  famous  Chicago 
College  of  Dental  Surgery. 

In  1889  he  was  elected  Clinician  in 
the  Chicago  College  of  Dental  Surgery, 
which  position  he  still  holds.  He  is  an 
active  member  of  the  Chicago  Dental 
Society,  of  the  Chicago  Dental  Club  and 
the  Odentalgraphic  Association.  He 
holds  important  positions  in  all  these 
organizations.  In  1892  he  was  elected  £;; 
president  of  the  Alumni  Association  of 
his  Alma  Mater.  To  preside  over  the 
deliberations  of  twelve  hundred  men  is  f| 
indeed  an  honor.  i| 

One  of  ouf  brightest  examples  of  busi 
ness  tact  and  economy  is  Mr.  F.  W.  Rol 
lins,  of  Chicago.  He  was  born  in  King 
George  County,  Va.,  on  November  20, 
1849.  His  parents  removed  to  Stafford 
County  when  he  was  about  a  year  old,  after 
which  they  removed  to  Washington  City, 
where  young  Rollins  was  raised.  In  those 
days  colored  children  could  not  attend  pub 
lic  schools.  But  young  Rollins  took  private 
instructions  until  the  breaking  out  of  the 
war,  and  made  good  progress. 

When  he  was  old  enough  he  took  a 
notion  to  carry  out  the  suggestion  of 
Horace  Greeley,  "  Go  West,  young  man." 


Later  we  find  Mr.  Rollins  keeping  a  paint 
ing  establishment  in  Chicago  during  the  years 
1870  and  1871  ;  notwithstanding  his  business 
was  a  success  both  winter  and  summer,  to  the 
extent  of  keeping  from  eight  to  ten  men  em 
ployed  the  year  around,  it  did  not  agree  with 
his  health  and  he  had  to  give  up  the  business. 

He  was  Superintendent  of  Olivet  Baptist 
Sunday  School  for  five  years  and  Chairman 
of  the  Building  Committee.  Mr.  Rollins  is 


DR.  CHARLES  E.  BENTLEY. 
a  very  shrewd  financier,  and  during  ms  life 
made'  several  good  investments  which  have 
placed  him  in  very  good  circumstances,  his 
wealth  being  estimated  at  considerably  over 
$  1 50,000,  including  his  very  valuable  busi 
ness  property. 

He  was  delegate  to  three  National  Grand 
Sessions  of  the  Odd  Fellows,  representing 
Golden  Fleece  Lodge  1615  of  Chicago.  He 
has  been  for  years  its  permanent  Secretary* 


138 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


He  was  in  the  employ  of  the  Chicago  Tribune 
Company  for  nearly  sixteen  years,  and  only 
left  for  the  purpose  of  going  into  business  for 


purpose  of  making  money  but  only  to  be  in 
business ;  but  it  was  a  success  from  the 
beginning  and  he  is  now  receiving  a  splendid 


F.  W.  ROLLINS.  FREDERICK. 

himself.     His  success  has  been  remarkable. 

He  has  a  fine  confectionery  and  ice  cream 

manufactory.     He  did  not  start  it  for  the 


PRINCE  ALBERT. 

income  from  it  Unto  him  that  hath  shall 
be  given.  Mr.  Rollins'  sons  a  short  time 
ago  became  heirs  to  $100,000. 


CULTIVATE  YOUR  BEST  QUALITIES. 


THE  best  teachers  have  been  the  readi 
est  to  recognize  the  importance  of 
self-culture,  and  of  stimulating  the 
student  to  acquire  knowledge   by 
the   active   exercise    of    his    own   faculties. 
They  have   relied  more  upon  training  than 
upon  telling,  and  sought  to  make  their  pupils 
themselves    active   parties    to    the   work    in 
which    they  were    engaged ;    thus    making 
teaching  something  far  higher  than  the  mere 
passive  reception  of  the  scraps  and  details  of 
knowledge. 

"  The  best  part  of  every  man's  education," 
said  Sir  Walter  Scott,  "  is  that  which  he 
gives  to  himself."  "  Every  person,"  says 
Gibbon,  "  has  two  educations,  one  which  he 
receives  from  others,  and  one,  more  impor 
tant,  which  he  gives  to  himself." 

Benjamin  Brodie,  the  eminent  surgeon, 
used  to  congratulate  himself  on  the  fact  that 
professionally  he  was  self-taught.  But  this 
is  necessarily  the  case  with  all  men  who  have 


acquired  distinction  in  letters,  science  or  art. 
The  education  received  at  school  or  college 
is  but  a  beginning,  and  is  valuable-  mainly 
inasmuch  as  it  trains  the  mind  and  habitu 
ates  it  to  continuous  application  and  study. 
That  which  is  put  into  us  by  others  is 
always  far  less  ours  than  that  which  we 
acquire  by  our  own  diligent  and  persevering 
effort.  Knowledge  conquered  by  labor  be 
comes  a  possession — a  property,  entirely  our 
own. 

Good  Teachings  and  Models. 

No  boy  or  girl  is  so  deficient  in  mental 
power  or  acuteness  as  to  render  the  task  of 
self-improvement  hopeless.  By  acting  upon 
good  teachings  and  models  in  the  home,  and 
by  diligence  and  patient  labor,  even  un 
promising  soil  can  be  cultivated  and  made 
fruitful.  Parents  should  never  abandon  a 
child  to  itself,  nor  discourage  any  endeavor 
to  rise  in  the  world.  It  has  often  proved  to 


THE   GUIDE   TO    SUCCESS. 


139 


be  the  case  that  those  who  gave  little  prom 
ise  in  their  early  days  happily  disappointed 
their  friends  afterwards,  and  showed  that  they 
were  capable  of  good  things.  It  was  only 
needful  to  wake  up  their  slumbering  powers 
and  rightly  direct  them. 

This  is  what  has  been  done  in  the  case  of 
Prof,  James  M.  Gregory,  one  of  our  grandest 
men.  Mr.  Gregory  was  born  in  Lexington, 
Va.,  January  23,  1849,  Dut  before 
he  was  one  year  old  the  family 
removed  to  Lynchburg  in  the 
same  State,  and  in  1859  to  Cleve 
land,  Ohio.  At  the  latter  place 
he  entered  the  public  schools  and 
afterward  studied  in  a  private 
school  at  La  Porte,  Ind.,  the  Chi 
cago  public  schools,  and  Cleve 
land.  In  1865  he  entered  the 
preparatory  department  at  Ober- 
lin,  and  continued  in  that  place  / 
for  several  years,  until  he  was 
asked  by  Gen.  O.  O.  Howard  to 
go  to  Howard  University  and 
there  continue  his  studies,  at  the 
same  time  teaching  in  the  prepara 
tory  department. 

This  offer  he  accepted  and 
graduated,  and  was  regularly  in 
stalled  as  tutor  of  Latin  and 
mathematics  in  1872.  His  aim 
has  been  to  establish  what  will  be 
known  as  the  Fred.  Douglass 
Scholarship  Fund.  He  began  his  political 
career  very  young  and  has  held  many  hon 
orable  positions  among  his  fellow-men.  He 
is  one  of  the  best  extemporaneous  speakers 
of  the  race  and  is  continually  laboring  for 
their  advancement. 

Mr.  Gregory  is  an  excellent  example  of 
what  may  be  done  by  one  who  aims  high 
and  cultivates  the  best  qualities  with  which 
nature  has  endowed  him.  Another  verv 


successful  Afro-American,  of  whom  the  same 
may  be  said,  is  the  Hon.  Samuel  Allen  Mc- 
Elwee. 

In  the  Tennessee  Legislature  Mr.  McElwee 
showed  himself  to  be  an  able  and  brilliant 
orator  and  debater.  His  school  history  is 
full  oi  vicissitudes.  He  worked  tor  many 
years  as  farm  boy,  with  but  three  months  in 
the  year  to  attend  school,  but  he  studied 


PROF.  JAMES  M.  GREGORY. 
early  and  late  and  passed  the  examination 
with  his  class  and  went  to  teaching  school. 
He  went  to  Oberlin  and  worked  his  way  for 
a  while,  but  soon  went  to  Mississippi  and 
taught  school  for  five  years. 

He  taught  schools  in  Alabama  and  Ten 
nessee,  and  finally  took  the  agency  of  some 
books,  charts  and  medicines,  and  at  the  same 
time  studied  Latin,  Greek  and  algebra, 
walking  ten  miles  after  work  twice  a  week  to 


140 


THE    GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


HON.  SAMUEL  ALLEN  MCELWEE. 


recite.  He  was  invited  by  the 
President  of  Fisk  University  to 
enter  there,  and  graduated  from 
the  institution  in  1883.  Mr. 
McElwee  is  a  born  politician 
and  has  canvassed  every  year 
since  he  was  fourteen  years  of 
age.  He  was  made  a  member 
of  the  Tennessee  Legislature  in 
1883,  while  he  was  still  a  stu 
dent,  and  was  delegate  to  the 
Chicago  Convention  which 
nominated  James  G.  Elaine  for 
the  Presidency.  He  graduated 
from  the  Central  Tennessee  Col 
lege,  Nashville,  in  1885,  finishing 
the  lav.-  co"rse.  He  was  a  Com 
missioner  of  the  Colored  De 
partment  of  the  New  Orleans 
Exposition.  His  career  is  an 
excellent  illustration  of  what 
may  be  accomplished  by  self- 
culture  and  close  application. 


INDEPENDENCE. 


HE  who  has  well  considered  his  duty 
will  at  once  carry  his  convictions 
into    action.      Our  acts   are  the 
only  things  that  are  in  our  power. 
They  not  only  form  the  sum  of  our  habits, 
but  of  our  character.     We  can  do  right ;  we 
are  not  only  to  .think   right  and  talk  right ; 
this  is  not  enough.     Says  Charles  Kingsley: 

Do  noble  things,  not  dream  them,  all  day  long, 
And  so  make  life,  death,  and  that  vast  forever,  one 
grand,  sweet  song. 

At  the  same  time,  the  course  of  duty  is 
not  always  the  easy  course.  It  has  many 
oppositions  and  difficulties  to  surmount.  We 
may  have  the  sagacity  to  see,  but  not  the 
strength  of  purpose  to  do.  To  the  irresolute 
there  is  many  a  lion  in  the  way.  He  thinks 


and  moralizes  and  dreams,  but  does  nothing. 
"There  is  little  to  see,"  said  a  hard  worker, 
"and  little  to  do ;  it  is  only  to  do  it." 

The  man  whose  first  question,  after  a  right 
course  of  action  has  presented  itself,  is 
"What  will  people  say  ?  "  is  not  the  man  to 
do  anything  at  all.  But  if  he  asks,  "Is  it 
my  duty?"  he  can  then  proceed  in  his  noble 
achievements,  and  be  ready  to  incur  men's 
censure,  and  even  to  brave  their  ridicule. 
"  Let  us  have  faith  in  fine  actions,"  says  a 
good  writer,  "  and  let  us  reserve  doubt  and 
incredulity  for  bad.  It  is  even  better  to  be 
deceived  than  to  distrust." 

The  strong  will,  allied  to  right  motives,  is 
as  full  of  blessings  as  a  cringing  disposition 
is  full  of  mischief.  The  man  of  independence 


THE   GUIDE   TO    SUCCESS. 


141 


moves  and  inflames  the  minds  and  con 
sciences  of  others.  He  bends  them  to  his 
views  of  duty,  carries  them  with  him  in  his 
endeavors  to  secure  worthy  objects,  and 
directs  opinion  to  the  suppression  of  wrong 
and  the  establishment  of  right.  The  man 
of  strong  will  stamps  power  upon  his  actions. 
His  energetic  perseverance  becomes  habitual. 
He  gives  a  tone  to  the  company  in  which  he 
is,  to  the  society  in  which  he  lives,  and  even 
to  the  nation  in  which  he  is  born.  He 
is  a  joy  to  the  timid,  and  a  perpetual 
reproach  to  the  sluggard. 

"The  great  end  of  training,"  says  a 
well-known  writer,  "  is  liberty ;  and  the 
sooner  you  can  get  a  child  to  be  a  law 
unto  himself,  the  sooner  you  will  make 
a  man  of  nim.  I  will  respect  human 
liberty  in  the  smallest  child  even  more 
scrupulously  than  in  a  grown  man ;  for 
the  latter  can  defend  it  against  me,  while 
the  child  cannot.  Never  will  I  insult  the 
child  so  far  as  to  regard  him  as  material 
to  be  cast  into  a  mould,  to  emerge  with 
the  stamp  given  by  my  will." 

Paternal  authority  and  family  inde 
pendence  is  a  sacred  domain;  and,  if 
momentarily  obscured  in  troublous  times, 
Christian  sentiment  protests  and  resists 
until  it  regains  its  authority.  But  liberty 
is  not  all  that  should  be  struggled  for; 
obedience,  self-restraint,  and  self-govern 
ment,  are  the  conditions  to  be  chiefly 
aimed  at.  The  latter  is  the  principal  end  of 
education.  It  is  not  imparted  by  teaching, 
but  by  example.  The  first  instruction  for 
youth,  says  Bonald,  consists  in  habits,  not  in 
reasonings,  in  examples  rather  than  in  direct 
lessons.  Example  preaches  better  than  pre 
cept,  and  that  too  because  it  is  so  much  more 
difficult.  At  the  same  time,  the  best  influ 
ences  grow  slowly,  and  in  a  gradual  corre 
spondence  with  human  needs. 


Mr.  Charles  H.  J.  Taylor  is  a  striking 
example  of  independence  of  character.  Mr. 
Taylor  was  born  April  21,  1858,  in  Perry 
County,  Ala.  His  mother,  who  was  an 
African  princess,  died  when  he  was  nine 
months  old.  He  made  rapid  progress  in 
his  studies  and  before  the  age  of  eighteen 
had  taught  several  terms  of  school.  He 
attended  Beech  Institute,  Savanah,  Ga.,  and 
also  spent  some  time  at  Ann  Arbor,  Mich. 


CHARLES  H.  J.  TAYLOR. 
In    1878   Mr.  Taylor  was  admitted  to  the 
Bar  and  afterwards  spent  some  time  in  travel 
ling  and  giving  lectures,  but  his  chief  thought 
was  politics.     He  has  held  the  positions  of 
Deputy  District  Attorney  of  the  Nineteentl 
Judicial  District  of  Indiana,  and  City  Attor 
ney  of  Kansas  City,  Mo.,  and  was  appointee 
by  President  Cleveland,  United  States  Min 
ister  and  Consul-General  to  Liberia.     He  is 
a  loyal,  influential  and  energetic   Democrat, 


142 


THE   GUIDE   TO    SUCCESS. 


and  has  worked  earnestly  for  the  furtherance 
ol  his  political  opinions. 

In  1888  Mr.  Taylor  was  representative  for 
his  party  from  Kansas  City  to  St.  Louis  at 
the  National  Convention,  and  has  often  been 
nominated  for  State  and  County  offices.  He 
is  the  only  Afro-American  that  has  been 
honored  with  the  appointment  of  United 
States  Minister  and  Envoy  Extraordinary. 
Mr.  Taylor  is  Recorder  of  Deeds  in  the  Dis 
trict  of  Columbia,  having  entered  on  his 
duties  May  23,  1894.  He  is  an  uncompro 
mising  Democrat  and  on  the  race  question  is 
sound  as  a  dollar. 

The  well-known  editor  of  The  Planet 
affords  a  most  remarkable  illustration  of 
resolute  independence. 

JOHN  MITCHELL,  JR. 

He  was  born  July  1 1,  1863,  of  slave  par 
ents.  His  father  was  a  coachman  and  his 
mother  a  seamstress.  He  attended  the  pub 
lic  schools  of  Richmond,  Va.,  and  graduated 
June  15,  1 88 1,  at  the  Normal  and  High 
School.  Subsequently  he  pursued  his  stud 
ies  at  home,  taking  the  four  years'  course  of 
instruction  of  the  Chautauqua  Literary  and 
Scientific  Circle. 

He  took  entire  editorial  charge  of  the 
Richmond  Planet  in  December,  1884,  and 
has  held  that  position  ever  since.  He  is 
noted  for  his  outspoken  utterances.  The 
case  of  Richard  Walker,  a  colored  man  who 
was  lynched  in  Charlotte  County,  Va.,  is 
what  attracted  the  attention  of  the  country  to 
his  bold  and  courageous  efforts.  Mr.  Mit 
chell  wrote  an  editorial  condemning  the 
lynching  of  Walker,  who  was  on  his  way  to 
Chase  City,  Va.,  to  see  his  mother,  when  he 
met  a  white  woman,  who  alleged  that  he 
insulted  her.  For  this  he  was  arrested  and 
a  mob  took  him  from  the  jail  at  Smithville, 
Va.,  and  hanged  him  to  a  tree. 


The  week  following  the  publication  of  the 
article  in  question,  a  letter  was  received  by 
Editor  Mitchell,  upon  which  was  drawn,  or 
rather  scribbled,  a  skull  and  cross-bones,  and 
within  which  was  a  piece  of  rope  and  a  mis 
sive  abusing  him  and  daring  him  to  visit  the 
country.  It  declared  that  the  lynchers 
would  treat  him  as  Walker  had  been  treated. 
Editor  Mitchell  wrote  an  editorial  declaring 
he  would  visit  the  country,  concluding  with 
the  quotation  from  Shakespeare  : 

"There  is  no  terror,  Cassius,  in  your  threats, 
For  I  am  armed  so  strong  in  honesty 
That  they  pass  by  me  like  the  idle  winds 
Which  I  respect  not." 

He  accordingly  secured  a  brace  of  revol 
vers,  drove  five  miles  in  the  country,  after 
reaching  the  station,  visited  the  jail  in  which 
Walker  had  been  confined,  was  locked  in  to 
inspect  it,  went  to  the  tree  upon  which  Walker 
was  hanged  and  then  returned  to  Richmond 
and  wrote  another  editorial  condemning  the 
lynchers.  For  this,  Rev.  Dr.  W.  J.  Sim 
mons,  author  of  "  Men  of  Mark,"  designated 
him  as  the  "  gamest  Afro-American  editor  on 
the  Contin  int." 

The  Prisoner's  Friend. 

His  successful  efforts  to  save  the  life  of 
Simon  Walker,  a  fifteen-year  old  colored  boy 
who  was  sentenced  to  die  and  was  reprieved 
four  times  by  Gov.  Fitzhugh  Lee,  and  sub 
sequently  given  twenty  years  in  the  peniten 
tiary,  took  place  in  1888.  Mr.  Mitchell  has 
secured  the  release  of  a  host  of  persons  from 
the  jails  and  penitentiary  of  this  State. 

A  remarkable  case  was  that  of  Isaac  Jen 
kins,  who  in  1894  was  lynched  in  Nanse- 
mond  County,  Va.,  for  alleged  house  burning 
and  horse  poisoning,  but  escaped  after  his 
lynchers  had  left,  having  regained  conscious 
ness,  although  twice  shot.  Jenkins  was  sub 
sequently  tried  and  acquitted,  Mr.  Mitchell 


THR    GUIDE    TO    SUCCESS. 


143 


raising  the  money  to  defray  the  expense  of 
the  trial. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch  served  five  years 
as  President  of  the  National  Afro-American 
Press  Association  and  declined  re-election  in 
September,  1894.  He  was  elected  to  the 
Common  Council  of  the  City  of  Richmond 
in  May,  1888.  elected  to  the  Board  of  Alder 
men  to  serve  an  unexpired  term  in  1 890,  and 
re-elected  for  a  four  years'  term  in  1892. 

Mr.  Mitchell  has  a  natural  aptitude  for 
drawing,  and  The  Planet  gives  abundant 


evidence  of  his  skill.  He  was  awarded  a 
gold  medal  by  the  School  Board  of  Virginia 
for  a  map  of  Virginia  which  he  drew.  He 
was  awarded  another  gold  medal  for  scholar 
ship,  and  still  another  for  oratory. 

He  is  a  pleasing  and  forceful  speaker,  and 
has  received  many  compliments  for  his  grace 
fulness  upon  the  rostrum,  and  the  fervid 
eloquence  of  his  rhetoric.  As  a  debater,  he 
has  few  equals,  and  his  pointed  thrusts, 
unmarred  by  scurrilous  assertions,  win  the 
respect  of  even  his  opponents. 


HELP  YOUR    FELLOW  BEING. 


EACH    is    to    assist   the    other;    t'ne 
strong  the  weak,  the  rich  the  poor, 
the  learned  the  ignorant;   and,  to 
reverse  the  order,  those  who  have 
least  are  no  less  to  assist  those  who  have 
most.     All   depends  on   higher   degrees  of 
power,    for    disciples    do    not    make    their 
teachers,  nor  the  ignorant  and  helpless  those 
who  are  to  instruct  and  assist  them. 

Though  we  may  look  to  our  understand 
ing  for  amusement,  it  is  to  the  affections 
only  that  we  must  trust  for  happiness.  This 
implies  a  spirit  of  self-sacrifice,  and  our  vir 
tues,  like  our  children,  are  endeared  to  us 
by  what  we  suffer  for  them.  "The  secret  of 
my  mother's  influence,"  says  a  well-known 
lady,  "was  accurately  expressed  by  one  who 
wrote  her,  '  I  have  never  known  any  one  so 
tenderly  and  truly  and  universally  beloved 
as  you  are,  and  I  believe  it  arises  from  your 
capacity  of  loving.' " 

It  is  every  man's  duty,  whose  lot  has  been 
favored  in  comparison  with  others,  who 
enjoys  advantages  of  wealth,  or  knowledge, 
or  social  influencef  of  which  others  are  de 
prived,  to  devote  at  least  a  certain  portion  of 
his  time  and  money  to  the  promotion  of  the 
general  well-being. 


It  is  not  great  money  power,  or  great  in 
tellectual  power,  that  is  necessary.  The 
power  of  money  is  overestimated.  Paul  and 
his  disciples  spread  Christianity  over  half  the 
Roman  world,  with  little  more  money  than 
is  gained  from  a  fashionable  bazaar.  The 
great  social  doctrines  of  Christianity  are  based 
on  the  idea  of  brotherhood.  "Do  unto 
others  as  ye  would  they  should  do  unto 
you."  This  is  the  "  golden  rule." 

It  Is  All  for  Self. 

The  men  most  to  be  pitied  are  those  who 
have  no  command  over  themselves,  who  have 
no  feeling  of  duty  to  others,  who  wander 
through  life  seeking  their  own  pleasure,  or 
who,  even  while  performing  good  deeds,  do 
so  from  mean  motives,  from  regard  to  mental 
satisfaction,  or  from  fear  of  the  reproaches  of 
conscience.  Some  of  those  who  are  vain  of 
their  fine  feelings  love  themselves  dearly,  out 
have  little  regard  for  the  individuals  aboix 
them.  They  are  very  polite  to  extraneous 
society ;  but  follow  them  home  and  see  how 
they  conduct  themselves  toward  their  family. 
"An  angel  abroad  and  a  devil  at  home,"  is 
an  old  saying. 

False  sympathy  is  very  common.    Sharp* 


144 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS.' 


says  that  one  of  the  most  serious  objections 
to  pathetic  works  of  fiction  is,  that  they  tend 
to  create  a  habit  of  feeling  pity  or  indigna 
tion,  without  actually  relieving  distress  or 
resisting  oppression.  Thus  Sterne  could 
sympathize  with  a  dead  donkey,  and  leave 
his  wife  to  starve. 

Relieving  Pain  and  Misery. 

The  man  who  throws  himself  into  the 
.existence  of  another,  and  exerts  his  utmost 
efforts  to  help  him  in  all  ways — socially, 
morally,  religiously — exerts  a  divine  influ 
ence.  He  is  enveloped  in  the  strongest  safe 
guard.  He  bids  defiance  to  selfishness.  He 
comes  out  of  his  trial  humble  yet  noble. 
The  alleviation  of  pain  and  misery  was  a  dis 
covery  of  Christianity,  a  discovery  like  that 
of  a  new  scientific  principle.  The  best  and 
the  noblest  men  are  the  most  sympathetic. 
Wilberforce  was  distinguished  by  his  power 
of  sympathy. 

A  friend  was  asked,  "  What  is  the  secret 
of  Wilberforce's  success?"  "In  his  power 
of  sympathy,"  was  the  ready  answer.  He 
was  large-hearted,  generous  and  liberal.  He 
went  straight  to  the  front  and  threw  himself 
heart  and  soul  into  every  project  which  had 
good  for  its  object.  He  took  the  lead  in 
every  experiment  which  seemed  to  him  worth 
trying.  And  success  was  the  result. 

Sympathy  is  the  capacity  of  feeling  for  the 
sufferings,  the  difficulties  and  the  discour 
agements  of  others.  It  was  said  of  Norman 
Macleod  that  sympathy  was  the  first  and  the 
last  thing  in  his  character.  He  found  in 
humanity  so  much  to  interest  him.  The 
most  commonplace  man  or  woman  yielded 
up  some  contribution  of  humanity.  "  When 
he  came  to  see  me,"  said  a  blacksmith,  "  he 
spoke  as  if  he  had  been  a  smith  himself,  but 
he  never  went  away  without  leaving  Christ 
in  my  heart." 


When  about  to  enter  on  his  work  in  Glas 
gow,  Norman  Macleod  said  :  "  We  want  liv 
ing  men !  not  their  books  or  their  money 
only,  but  themselves.  The  poor  and  needy, 
the  naked  and  outcast,  the  prodigal  and 
broken-hearted,  can  see  and  feel,  as  they 
never  did  anything  else  in  this  world,  the 
love  which  calmly  shines  in  that  eye,  telling 
of  inward  light  and  peace  possessed,  and  of 
a  place  of  rest  found  and  enjoyed  by  the 
weary  heart.  They  can  understand  and 
appreciate  the  utter  unselfishness — to  them 
a  thing  hitherto  hardly  dreamed  of — which 
prompted  a  visit  from  a  home  of  comfort 
and  refinement  to  an  unknown  abode  of 
squalor  or  disease,  and  which  expresses 
itself  in  those  kind  words  and  tender  greet 
ings  that  accompany  their  ministrations." 

A  Wide   Chasm. 

There  is  a  tremenduous  lack  of  sympathy. 
This  is  the  main  evil  of  our  time.  There  is 
a  widening  chasm  which  divides  the  various 
classes  of  society.  The  rich  shrink  back 
from  the  poor,  the  poor  shrink  back  from 
the  rich.  The  one  class  withholds  its  sym 
pathy  and  guidance,  the  other  withholds  its 
respect. 

Instead  of  the  old  principle  that  the  world 
must  be  ruled  by  kind  and  earnest  guardian 
ship,  in  which  the  irregularities  of  fortune 
are  in  part  made  up  by  the  spontaneous 
charity  and  affection  of  those  who  were 
better  born,  the  rule  now  is,  that  self-interest, 
without  regard  to  others,  is  the  polar  star  of 
our  earthly  sphere,  and  that  everything  that 
stands  in  the  way  is  to  be  trodden  down 
beneath  our  unfeeling  hoofs. 

A  fine  illustration  of  a  useful  citizen  and 
helper  of  his  race  is  Mr.  Theodore  W.  Jones, 
County  Commissioner  of  Cook  County,  Ills. 
He  was  born  September  19,  1853,  during  a 
temporary  residence  of  his  parents  at  Hamil- 


GULUE   TU   SUCCESS. 


145 


ton,  Ontario.  His  parents  soon  returned  to 
their  native  State  of  New  York,  where  they 
resided  for  six  years.  Casting  their  gaze 


THEODORE  W.  JONES. 

westward  they  decided  to  make  Illinois  their 
home,  and  in  1865  settled  in  Chicago. 
Theodore  Jones  was  then  about  twelve  years 
old,  and  his  parents  being  poor 
were  unable  to  give  him  a  com 
mon  school  education,  so  that 
at  that  early  age  the  young 
boy  was  compelled  to  support 
himself. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen  young  „ 

Jones  was  driving  an  express 
wagon,  and  without  a  dollar  of 
assistance  from  any  one,  com 
menced  the  business  of  express 
ing  and  moving.  At  the  age  of 
twenty-five  he  matriculated  in 
the  department  of  literature, 
science,  and  the  arts  of  Wheaton 
College,  where  he  remained  for 
three  years,  after  which  he  re 
turned  and  resumed  his  busi 
ness. 

Mr.  Jones  never  held  a  po 
litical  office  before  that  of 
County  Commissioner.  Having 
had  no  political  aspirations  it 


can  be  said  the  "  office  sought  the  man."  His 
collegiate  training  has  made  him  a  student, 
and  he  is  especially  versed  in  political  and 
economical  questions.  It  is  true  that  Mr. 
Jones  has  given  the  greater  part  of  his  time  to 
the  management  of  his  business,  but  he  has 
found  time  to  do  his  duty  as  a  church  man. 
Quinn  Chapel,  the  finest  and  largest  A.  M.  E. 
Church  in  the  West,  early  elected  him  their 
trustee,  which  office  he  has  satisfactorily 
filled. 

Mr.  Jones  is  well  known  throughout  the 
West,  his  business  relations  bringing  him  a 
wide  acquaintance,  including  the  first  fami 
lies  of  Chicago,  for  whom  he  has  done  busi 
ness  for  a  number  of  years.  He  has  con 
ducted  himself  in  private  life  so  that  he  has 
a  host  of  personal  friends,  and  is  the  bene 
factor  of  large  numbers  of  his  people. 


HON.  ROBERT   HARLAN. 


146 


THE   GUIDE   TO    SUCCESS. 


Mr.  Jones  is  President  of  the  Masonic 
Widow's  and  Orphan's  Home  and  Vice- 
President  of  Provident  Hospital,  the  only 
Afro-American  institution  of  its  kind  in  the 
world.  He  finds  delight  in  looking  after  the 
needy  and  unfortunate. 

Another  whole-souled  man  is  Hon. 
Robert  Harlan,  who  was  born  in  Meck 
lenburg  county,  Va.,  December  12,  1816, 
and  went  to  Kentucky  at  the  age  of  eight 
years,  where  he  was  raised  by  the  Hon. 
James  Harlan.  He  was  allowed  unusual 
liberties,  and  was  taught  in  the  rudimentary 
branches  by  Mr.  Harlan's  older  sons.  As 
was  customary  in  those  times,  he  hired  his 
time  and  opened  and  operated  a  barber  shop 


at    Harrodsburg   and  afterwards  a  grocery 
store  at  Lexington. 

In  1848  he  went  to  California,  where  he 
amassed  a  considerable  fortune  and  returned 
to  Cincinnati,  in  order  to  invest  it  in  real 
estate.  He  did  well  at  the  photographing 
business  and  visited  the  World's  Fair  at 
London.  Upon  his  return  he  went  to  Ken 
tucky  and  purchased  his  freedom  legally 
with  $500.  In  1858  he  took  his  family  to 
live  in  England,  and  remained  there  until 
1868.  He  has  held  many  honorable  politi 
cal  positions.  He  is  also  a  student  of  politi 
cal  economy  and  a  big-hearted  man  full  of 
life  and  sport,  and  ever  ready  to  lend  a  help 
ing  hand  to  those  less  fortunate  than  himself. 


HAVE  A  DEFINITE  AIM. 


DO  not  mistake  your  calling.     Find 
out  what  you  are  fitted  for,  and 
then  up  and  at  it.     Don't  try  to 
be  a  mechanic  when  you  are  cut 
out   for  a  teacher,  a  lawyer   or  a  farmer. 
Bend  your  emergies  all  in  one  direction  and 
press  on,  keeping   your   great  object  con 
stantly  right  before  your  eye. 

It  is  not  the  quantity  of  study  that  one 
gets  through,  or  the  amount  of  reading, 
that  makes  a  wise  man ;  but  the  advantage 
of  the  study  to  the  purpose  for  which  it  is 
pursued ;  the  concentration  of  the  mind,  for 
the  time  being,  on  the  subject  under  consid 
eration  ;  and  the  habitual  discipline  by  which 
the  whole  system  of  mental  application  is 
regulated.  Abernethy  was  even  of  opinion 
that  there  was  a  point  of  fulness  in  his  own 
mind,  and  that  if  he  took  into  it  something 
more  than  it  could  hold,  it  only  had  the 
effect  of  pushing  something  else  out.  Speak 
ing  of  the  study  of  medicine,  he  said :  "  If 
a  man  has  a  clear  idea  of  what  he  desires  to 
do,  he  will  seldom  fail  in  accomplishing  it." 


The  most  profitable  study  is  that  which  is 
conducted  with  a  definite  aim  and  object.  By 
thoroughly  mastering  any  given  branch  of 
knowledge  we  render  it  more  available  for 
use  at  any  moment.  Hence,  it  is  not 
enough  merely  to  have  books,  or  to  know 
where  to  read  for  information  as  we  want  it. 
Practical  wisdom,  for  the  purposes  of  life, 
must  be  carried  about  with  us,  and  be  ready 
for  use  at  call.  It  is  not  sufficient  that  we 
have  a  fund  laid  up  at  home,  but  not  a 
nickel  in  the  pocket :  we  must  carry  about 
with  us  a  store  of  the  current  coin  of  knowl 
edge  ready  for  exchange  on  all  occasions, 
else  we  are  comparatively  helpless. 

Decision  and  promptitude  are  as  requisite 
in  self-culture  as  in  business.  The  growth 
of  these  qualities  may  be  encouraged  by 
accustoming  young  people  to  rely  upon 
their  own  resources,  leaving  them  to  enjoy 
as  much  freedom  of  action  in  early  life  as  is 
practicable.  Too  much  guidance  and  re 
straint  hinder  the  formation  of  habits  of  self- 
help.  They  are  like  bladders  tied  under  the 


THE   GUIDE  TO    SUCCESS. 


147 


arms  of  one  who  has  not  taught  himself  to 
swim.  Want  of  confidence  is,  perhaps,  a 
greater  obstacle  to  improvement  than  is  gen 
erally  imagined.  It  has  been  said  that  half 
the  failures  in  life  arise  from  pulling  in  one's 
horse  while  he  is  leaping. 

Dr.  Johnson  was  accustomed  to  attribute 
his  success  to  confidence  in  his  own  powers. 
True  modesty  is  quite  compatible 
with  a  due  esteem  of  one's  own 
merits,  and  does  not  demand  the 
abnegation  of  all  merit.  Though 
there  are  those  who  deceive  them 
selves  by  putting  a  false  figure  be 
fore  their  ciphers,  the  want  of  confi 
dence,  the  want  of  faith  in  one's 
self,  and  consequently  the  want  of 
promptitude  in  action,  is  a  defect 
of  character  which  is  found  to  stand 
very  much  in  the  way  of  individual 
progress;  and  the  reason  why  so 
little  is  done  is  generally  because 
so  little  is  attempted. 

There  is  usually  no  want  of  de 
sire  on  the  part  of  most  persons  to 
arrive  at  the  results  of  self-culture, 
but  there  is  a  great  aversion  to  pay 
the  inevitable  price  for  it,  of  hard 
work.  Dr.  Johnson  held  that 
"impatience  of  study  was  the  men 
tal  disease  of  the  present  genera 
tion  ; "  and  the  remark  is  still  ap 
plicable.  We  may  not  believe  that 
there  is  a  royal  road  to  learning, 
but  we  seem  to  believe  very  firmly  in  the 
"popular"  one.  In  education,  we  invent 
labor-saving  processes,  seek  short  cuts  to 
science,  learn  French  and  Latin  "in  twelve 
lessons,"  or  "without  a  master." 

We  resemble  the  lady  of  fashion,  who 
engaged  a  master  to  teach  her  on  condition 
that  he  did  not  plague  her  with  verbs 
and  participles.  We  get  our  smattering  of 


science  in  the  same  way;  we  learn  chemistry 
by  listening  to  a  short  course  of  lectures 
enlivened  by  experiments,  and  when  we 
have  inhaled  laughing-gas,  seen  green  water 
turned  to  red,  and  phosphorus  burned  in 
oxygen,  we  have  got  our  smattering,  of 
which  the  most  that  can  be  said  is,  that 
though  it  may  be  better  than  nothing,  it  is 


J.  A.  ARNEAUX. 

yet  good  for  nothing.  Thus  we  often 
imagine  we  are  being  educated  while  we 
are  only  amused. 

Charles  Dudley  Warner  makes  the  amua- 
ing  suggestion  that  some  enterprising  Yan 
kee  will  yet  invent  a  machine  whereby  a 
young  man  or  woman  can  drop  a  nickel  in 
the  slot  and  pull  out  an  education. 

One   Afro- American,  who    set   a    definite 


148 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


aim  before  him  and   pursued  it  until  success     man,    Latin    and     kindred    branches.       He 
crowned  his  efforts,  is  Mr.  J.  A.  Arneaux,     entered    Berlitz    School  of   Languages  and 
tragedian  and  poet.     His  father  was  a  Paris-     perfected  himself  in  the  French  language. 
ian  by  birth  and  his  mother  was  of  French  :       He  then   visited  Paris  and  took  a  course 
descent.       He    was   born    in    the   State    of  1  in  the  Academic  Royal  Des  Inscriptions  et 

Belles  Lettres  et  Morals  et  Politique. 
He  appeared  shortly  afterwards  as  a  song 
and  dance  artist  in  Tony  Pastor's  Metro 
politan  and  the  old  Globe.  He  took  parts 
in  minor  plays  until  1884,  when  he  took 
the  part  of  "lago."  His  success  in  this 
venture  led  to  the  formation  of  the  Astor 
Place  Tragedy  Company,  colored.  In 
1885  he  took,  the  character  of  "Richard 
III,"  in  which  character  he  excels.  He 
has  written  for  several  periodicals,  and 
has  also  written  a  number  of  meritorious 
poems.  Mr.  Arneaux  is  also  a  graduate 
of  the  New  York  Grand  Conservatory  of 
Music  and  Elocution. 

False  Education. 

Here  is  a  young  man  who  was  willing 
to  study  and  work.  The  faculty  with 
which  young  people  are  induced  to  acquire 
knowledge,  without  study  and  labor,  is  not 
education.  It  occupies  but  does  not  en 
rich  the  mind.  It  imparts  a  stimulus  for 
the  time,  and  produces  a  sort  of  intellec 
tual  keenness  and  cleverness;  but  with 
out  an  implanted  purpose  and  a  higher 
object  than  mere  pleasure,  it  will  bring 
with  it  no  solid  advantage.  In  such  cases, 
knowledge  produces  but  a  passing  impres 
sion;  a  sensation,  but  no  more. 

Thus  the  best  qualities  of  many  minds, 
those  which  are  evoked  by  vigorous  effort 
and  independent  action,  sleep  a  deep  sleep, 
and  are  often  never  called  to  life,  except  by 
the  rough  awakening  of  sudden  calamity  or 
suffering,  which,  in  such  cases,  comes  as  a 
blessing  if  it  serves  to  rouse  up  a  courage 
ous  spirit  that,  but  for  it,  would  have  slept  on. 


IRA  ALDRIDGE. 

T  Georgia  in  1855.  He  is  a  man  of  great 
'  talent,  graceful  and  pleasing  in  his  manner, 
and  of  undying  ambition.  He  entered 
school  at  the  age  of  fifteen  and  graduated 
after  four  years  from  the  Beech  Institute,  and 
went  to  New  York,  where  he  studied  Ger- 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


141) 


The  evil  is  a  growing  one,  and  operates  in 
various  ways.  Its  least  mischief  is  shallow- 
ness  ;  its  greatest,  the  aversion  to  steady 
labor  which  it  induces,  and  the  low  and 
feeble  tone  of  mind  which  it  encourages.  If 
we  would  be  really  wise,  we  must  diligently 
apply  ourselves,  and  confront  the  same  con 
tinuous  application  which  others  did ;  for 
labor  is  still,  and  ever  will  be,  the  inevitable 
price  set  upon  everything  which  is  valuable. 
We  must  be  satisfied  to  work  with  a  pur 
pose,  and  wait  the  result  with  patience. 

How,  without  these  grand  qualities,  could 
Ira  Aldridge  have  achieved  his  remarkable 
successes?  This  great  tragedian,  who  has 
always  been  at  the  head  of  the  list  of  Afro- 


American  actors,  was  born  at  Bel  air,  near 
Baltimore,  in  1804.  He  was  brought  in 
contact  with  Edmund  Kean,  whom  he 
accompanied  in  his  trip  through  Europe.  He 
made  his  appearance  first  at  the  Royalty 
Theatre  in  London,  in  the  character  of 
"Othello." 

In  Ireland  he  performed  "Othello,"  with 
Edmund  Kean  as  "lago."  In  1852  he 
appeared  in  Germany  in  Shakespearean 
characters.  The  King  of  Prussia  was  so> 
deeply  moved  with  his  appearance  that  he 
sent  him  a  congratulatory  letter  and  con 
ferred  upon  him  the  title  of  chevalier  in  rec 
ognition  of  his  dramatic  genius.  He  stuck 
nobly  to  his  calling  and  reached  the  top. 


SELF=RESPECT. 


SELF-RESPECT  is  the  noblest  gar 
ment  with  which  a  man  may  clothe 
himself — the  most  elevating  feeling 
with    which     the    mind     can     be 
inspired.     One  of  Pythagoras'   wisest  max 
ims,  in  his   "Golden  Verses,"  is  that  with 
which  he    enjoins  the  pupil  to    "  reverence 
himself.' '     Borne  up  by  this  high  idea,  he 
will  not  defile  his  body  by  sensuality,  nor  his 
mind  by  servile  thoughts.     This  sentiment 
carried  into  daily  life,  will  be  found  at  the 
root  of  all  the  virtues — cleanliness,  sobriety, 
chastity,  morality  and  religion. 

"  The  pious  and  just  honoring  of  our 
selves,"  said  Milton,  "  may  be  thought  the 
radical  moisture  and  fountain-head  from 
whence  every  laudable  and  worthy  enter 
prise  issues  forth."  To  think  meanly  of 
one's  self,  is  to  sink  in  one's  own  estima 
tion  as  well  as  in  the  estimation  of 
others.  And  as  thoughts  are,  so  will  the 
acts  be.  Man  cannot  aspire  if  he  looks 
down ;  if  he  will  rise,  he  must  look  up. 
The  very  humblest  may  be  sustained 


by  the  proper  indulgence  of  this  feeling. 
Poverty  itself  may  be  lifted  and  lighted  up 
by  self-respect ;  and  it  is  truly  a  noble  sight 
to  see  a  poor  man  hold  himself  upright 
amid  his  temptations,  and  refuse  to  demean 
himself  by  low  actions. 

One  way  in  which  self-culture  may  be 
degraded  is  by  regarding  it  too  exclusively 
as  a  means  of  "  getting  on."  Viewed  in 
this  light,  it  is  unquestionable  that  education 
is  one  of  the  best  investments  of  time  and 
labor.  In  any  line  of  life,  intelligence  will 
enable  a  man  to  adapt  himself  more  readily 
to  circumstances,  suggest  improved  methods 
of  working,  and  render  him  more  apt, 
skilled  and  effective  in  all  respects. 

He  who  works  with  his  head  as  well  as 
his  hands,  will  come  to  look  at  his  business 
with  a  clearer  eye ;  and  he  will  become  con 
scious  of  increasing  power — perhaps  the 
most  cheering  consciousness  the  human  mind 
can  cherish.  The  power  of  self-help  will 
gradually  grow ;  and  in  proportion  to  a 
man's  self-respect,  will  he  be  armed  against 


150 


THE    GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


the  temptation  of  low  indulgences.  Society 
and  its  actions  will  be  regarded  with  quite  a 
new  interest,  his  sympathies  will  widen  and 
enlarge,  and  he  will  thus  be  attracted  to 
work  for  others  as  well  as  for  himself. 

Self-discipline  and  self-control  are  the 
beginnings  of  practical  wisdom  ;  and  these 
must  have  their  root  in  self-respect.  Hope 
springs  from  it — hope,  which  is  the  compan 
ion  of  power,  and  the  mother  of  success ; 


PROF.  D.  A.  STRAKER. 

for  who  hopes  strongly  has   within   him  the 
gift  of  miracles. 

The  humblest  may  say  :  "To  respect  my 
self,  to  develop  myself — this  is  my  true  duty 
in  life.  An  integral  and  responsible  part  of 
the  great  system  of  society,  I  owe  it  to 
society  and  to  its  Author  not  to  degrade  or 
destroy  either  my  body,  mind  or  iustincts. 
On  the  contrary,  I  am  bound  to  the  best  of 
my  power  to  give  to  those  parts  of  my  con 


stitution  the  highest  degree  of  perfection 
possible.  I  am  not  only  to  suppress  the 
evil,  but  to  evoke  the  good  elements  in  my 
nature.  And,  as  I  respect  myself,  so  am  I 
equally  bound  to  respect  others,  as  they,  on 
their  part,  are  bound  to  respect  me."  Hence 
mutual  respect,  justice  and  order,  of  which 
law  becomes  the  written  record  and  guar 
antee. 

We  might  point  to  many  who  give  force 
and  point  to  these  commonplace, 
yet  weighty  truths,  among  them 
Prof.  D.  Augustus  Straker,  LL.D. 

Prof.  Straker  was  born  in  the 
Island  of  Barbadoes,  West  Indies,  in 
the  year  1842.  His  father  died  when 
he  was  very  young,  and  his  mother, 
a  hard  working  woman,  was  left  to 
take  care  of  his  education.  He  be 
gan  school  at  the  age  of  seven,  and 
later  finished  the  English  course  at 
the  Central  Public  School  of  the 
Island.  He  was  put  to  learn  tailor 
ing,  but  persuaded  his  mother  to 
allow  him  to  continue  his  studies, 
and  gave  his  attention  to  French  and 
Latin. 

Came  to  Teach  the  Slaves. 

At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  was 
made  principal  of  St.  Mary's  School, 
and  taught  in  St.  Amis  and  St.  Giles 
Schools  on  the  Island.  In  1868  he 
decided  to  come  to  America  to  teach  the 
newly-emancipated  slaves,  and  taught  under 
the  auspices  of  the  Episcopal  Church  and 
the  Freedmen's  Bureau  in  Louisville,  Ky. 
He  entered  the  law  school  of  Howard  Uni 
versity  in  1870,  and  graduated  with  honors 
in  1871.  He  held  the  position  of  stenogra 
pher  for  Gen.  O.  O.  Howard,  of  the  Freed 
men's  Bureau,  and  teacher  in  the  normal 
and  preparatory  department  of  the  college. 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


151 


From  1871  to  1875  held  the  position  of  first- 
class  clerk  in  the  Auditor's  Office  of  the 
United  States  Treasury  Department,  and 
later  as  second-class  clerk.  He  was  then 
appointed  Inspector  of  Customs,  Charles 
ton,  S.  C.  He  was  three  times  elected  to 
the  Legislature  from  Orangeburg  County, 
but  was  each  time  denied  his  seat,  and  after 
wards  formed  a  law  partnership  with  the 
Hon.  R.  B.  Elliot. 

In  1882  he  was  called  to  the  deanship  and 
professorship  of  law  of  Allen  University, 
Columbia,  S.  C.  Since  then  he  has  given 
strict  attention  to  his  profession,  and  has 


PROF.  T.  MCCANTS  STEWART. 

won  many  noted  cases.  He  is  an  orator  of 
rare  ability,  and  has  written  and  delivered 
many  fine  lectures.  Mr.  Straker  is  now  a 
member  of  the  A.  M.  E.  Church,  though  he 
claims  to  hold  no  special  denominational 
views.  He  has  held  the  position  of  Judge 
of  the  Circuit  Court  of  Wayne  County, 
Michigan. 

Another  distinguished  man  who  may  well 
be  mentioned  in  this  connection  is  Prof.  T. 
McCants  Stewart,  LL.B.  He  was  born  of 
free  parents  in  Charleston,  S.  C.,  December 
28,  1852,  and  began  school  in  his  native 
city  at  the  age  of  five.  He  was  sent  to 


Howard  University,  Washington,  D.  C.,  in 
1869,  and  from  there,  in  1873,  he  went  to 
the  South  Carolina  University  and  graduated 
in  1875,  receiving  the  degree  of  A.  B. 
Graduating  from  the  law  department  of  the 
same  institution  in  the  same  year,  he  re 
ceived  the  title  LL.B.,  and  was  counsel  in  a 
murder  case  immediately  thereafter. 

A  Visit  to  Africa. 

After  practicing  law  for  two  years,  and  at 
the  same  time  being  professor  of  mathematics 
in  the  State  Agricultural  College,  he  entered 
Princeton  College,  where  he  studied  for  two 
years ;  then,  after  ordination,  he  was  given 
the  pastoral  charge  of  Bethel  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  in  New  York  City.  Here 
he  remained  until  1883,  when  he  accepted 
a  position  as  professor  in  Liberia  College, 
Africa. 

After  travelling  in  Europe  for  some  time 
he  went  to  Africa,  but  soon  became  dissat 
isfied  and  returned  to  America,  lectured 
awhile  and  resumed  the  practice  of  law  in 
1886.  Mr.  Stewart  has  retired  from  the 
ministry  and  gives  his  entire  time  to  the  prac 
tice  of  law.  He  is  gifted  as  a  lecturer  and 
reflects  credit  upon  the  race. 

He  is  a  true  man,  and  everywhere,  and 
under  almost  all  circumstances,  however 
externally  adverse  on  our  wild  frontiers,  in 
cottage  hamlets,  in  the  close  alleys  of  great 
towns — the  true  man  may  grow.  He  who 
tills  a  space  of  earth  scarce  bigger  than  is 
needed  for  his  grave,  may  work  as  faithfully-, 
and  to  as  good  purpose,  as  the  heir  to  thou 
sands.  The  most  common  workshop  may 
thus  be  a  school  of  industry,  science  and 
good  morals,  on  the  one  hand;  or  of  idle 
ness,  folly  and  depravity,  on  the  other.  It 
all  depends  on  the  individual  men,  and  the 
use  they  make  of  the  opportunities  for  good 
which  offer  themselves. 


THE    GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


BUSINESS   FIRST,   PLEASURE  AFTERWARDS. 


EVEN  on  the  lowest  ground — that  of 
personal  enjoyment — constant  use 
ful    occupation   is  necessary.     He 
who  labors  not  cannot  enjoy  the 
reward  of  labor.     "We  sleep  sound,"  said 
Sir  Walter  Scott,    "  and  our  waking  hours 


HON.  EDWARD  W.  BLYDEN,  LL 

are  happy,  when  they  are  employed;  and  a 
little  sense  of  toil  is  necessary  to  the  enjoy 
ment  of  leisure,  even  when  earned  by  study 
and  sanctioned  by  the  discharge  of  duty." 

Work  hurts  nobody ;  it  is  true,  there  are 
men  who  die  of  overwork ;  but  many  more 
die  of  selfishness,  indulgence  and  idleness. 
Where  men  break  down  by  overwork,  it  is 
most  commonly  from  want  of  duly  ordering 


their  lives,  and  neglect  of  the  ordinary  con 
ditions  of  physical  health.  We  doubt 
whether  hard  work,  steadily  and  regularly 
carried  on,  ever  yet  hurt  anybody. 

Then,  again,  length  of  years  is  no  proper 
test  of  length  of  life.  A  man's  life  is  to  be 
measured  by  what  he  does 
in  it,  and  what  he  feels  in 
it.  The  more  useful  work 
the  man  does,  and  the  more 
he  thinks  and  feels,  the 
more  he  really  lives.  The 
idle,  useless  man,  no  matter 
to  what  extent  his  life  may 
be  prolonged,  merely  vege- 
tates. 

The  early  teachers  of 
Christianity  ennobled  the 
lot  of  toil  by  their  example. 
"  He  that  will  not  work," 
said  the  Apostle  Paul, 
"  neither  shall  he  eat ; " 
and  he  glorified  himself  in 
that  he  had  labored  with 
his  hands,  and  had  not  been 
chargeable  to  any  man. 
When  St.  Boniface  landed 
in  Britain  he  came  with  a 
Gospel  in  one  hand  and  a 
carpenter's  rule  in  the 
other;  and  from  England 
he  afterwards  passed  over 
into  Germany,  carrying  thither  the  art  of 
building.  Luther  also,  in  the  midst  of  a 
multitude  of  other  employments,  worked 
diligently  for  a  living,  earning  his  bread  by 
gardening,  building,  turning,  and  even  clock- 
making. 

Constant  useful  occupation  is  wholesome, 
not  only  for  the  body,  but  for  the  mind. 
While  the  slothful  man  drags  himself  indo- 


.D. 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


153 


lently  through  life,  and  the  better  part  of  his 
nature  sleeps  a  deep  sleep,  if  not  morally  and 
also  spiritually  dead,  the  energetic  man  is  a 
source  of  activity  and  enjoyment  to  all  who 
come  within  reach  of  his  influence.  Even 
any  ordinary  drudgery  is  better  than  idle 
ness. 

We  wish  to  mention  several  famous  men 
who  have  achieved  great  success  by  strict 
attention  to  their  calling. 

Without  doubt,  the  most  learned  man  of 
the  race  is  Dr.  Blyden,  who  was  born  in  St. 


PROF.  JUSTIN   HOLLAND. 

Thomas,  one  of  the  Danish  West  Indies, 
August  3,  1832;  but  lived  in  the  United 
States  for  a  considerable  time  in  his  youth. 
In  1851  he,  with  his  brother,  went  to  Lib 
eria,  where  he  is  still.  He  was  educated  at, 
and  afterwards  became  principal  of,  the  Alex 
andria  High  School,  and  has  held  many 
positions  of  trust  under  the  Liberian  Gov 
ernment. 

He  is  a  distinguished  linguist,  a  prolific 
magazine  writer  and  a  profound  student  of 
the  Arabic  language.  It  is  said  that  he 


speaks  and  writes  fluently  forty  different 
languages.  He  was  at  one  time  a  Presby 
terian  preacher,  but  is  now  an  advocate  of  the 
Mohammedan  religion,  with  which  faith  he 
has  had  every  opportunity  to  familiarize  him 
self. 

Mr.  Justin  Holland  won  distinction  in  his 
profession  by  long  and  patient  endeavor.  He 
was  born  in  Norfolk,  Va.,  in  1819.  In 
childhood  his  talent  for  music  bespoke  so 
much  of  a  bright  future  that  he  determined 
to  cultivate  it.  When  fourteen  he  left  the 
home  of  his  birth  and  went  to  Boston,  from 
which  he  made  his  way  to  Chelsea,  Mass. 
At  this  place  he  earnestly  began  the  study 
of  music.  He  evinced  much  skill  on  the 
eight-keyed  flute.  He  was  obliged  to  work 
hard  to  defray  his  expenses,  which  were 
quite  heavy,  and  practice  part  of  the  time 
allowed  him  for  sleep. 

Musician  and  Author. 

In  1841  he  entered  Oberlin  College  and 
worked  diligently.  In  1845  he  went  to 
Cleveland,  and  was  successful  in  getting  in 
the  best  families  to  teach  music.  In  1848 
he  published  many  arrangements  for  the 
guitar,  and  also  wrote  instruction  books  for 
the  same  instrument.  He  is  the  author  of 
"  Choral  Reform  "  and  "  Holland's  Method 
for  the  Guitar."  Beside  being  a  fine  guitar 
ist,  Mr.  Holland  was  also  a  fine  pianist  and 
flutist.  He  was  a  distinguished  Mason,  and 
has  held  many  important  offices  in  the 
lodge,  he  died  in  the  city  of  New  Orleans. 

Another  name  of  singular  merit  and  aptly 
illustrating  the  advice  here  given  of  attend 
ing  first  to  business  and  your  daily  pursuit 
is  that  of  Prof.  J.  C.  Corbin,  who  was  born  in 
Chillicothe,  Ohio,  March  26,  1833,  and  was 
educated  in  the  winter  schools  of  Chilli 
cothe.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  he  went  to 
Louisville,  Ky.,  to  assist  in  teaching.  After 


154 


THE   GUIDE  TO   SUCCESS. 


teaching  some  years,  he  went  to  the  Ohio 
University,  and  was  able  to  enter  the  Sopho 
more  Class.  Graduating  in  1853,  he  re 
turned  to  Louisville,  and  was  employed  as 


PROF.  J.  C.  CORBIN. 

clerk  in  a  mercantile  agency,  and  then  in  a 
bank. 

He  was  engaged  as  a  reporter  for  the 
Arkansas  Republican,  and  went  to  Arkansas 
in  1872.  Here  he  was  made  chief  clerk  in 
the  Little  Rock  Post-office,  and  then  was 
elected  State  Superintendent  of  Public  In 
struction,  in  which  position  he  served  two 
years.  After  teaching  two  years  in  Lincoln 
Institute,  he  returned  to  Little  Rock,  and 
was  sent  to  Pine  Bluff  to  establish  the 
Branch  Normal  College,  of  which  school  he 
has  been  principal  ever  since.  Professor 
Corbin  is  a  fluent  reader  of  Greek,  Latin, 
German,  French,  Spanish,  Italian,  Hebrew 
and  Danish,  and  is  especially  proficient  in 
mathematics.  He  is  a  Baptist  in  denomina 
tion  and  a  thorough  church-worker. 

In  this  connection  we  present  to  the  pub 
lic  a  sketch  of  John  G.  Jones,  Esq.,  who  is 
a  brilliant  and  successful  clear-headed  lawyer 
at  the  Chicago  bar.  He  was  born  on  the 


1 8th  day  of  September,  1849,  at  Ithica, 
Thompkins  County,  State  of  New  York. 
Lawyer  Jones  was  admitted  to  the  bar  by 
the  Supreme  Court  of  Illinois  in  1883.  He 
is  a  prominent  man  and  highly  respected  by 
all.  He  is  full  of  energy,  zeal  and  deter 
mination,  and  has  the  courage  at  all  times  to 
express  his  convictions.  He  has  done  much 
to  advance  and  promote  the  interests  of  his 
race,  which  will  always  be  appreciated  and 
remembered  by  his  fellow  countrymen. 

On  the  recommendation  of  the  late  Sen 
ator  John  A.  Logan,  of  Illinois,  and  the 
late  Senator  Conkling,  of  New  York,  Mr. 
Jones  was  appointed  by  President  Grant  as 
Special  United  States  Commissioner  to  the 
Island  of  Cuba  to  investigate  the  complaints 
and  charges  that  had  been  made  about  the 
colored  people  of  the  United  States  being 
captured  and  sold  there  as  slaves.  Mr. 
Jones  was  the  first  man  in  this  country  that 
gathered  the  statistics  of  the  amount  of 
property  that  the  colored  people  owned  in 
the  United  States  of  America. 


CHARLES  W.  ANDERSON. 

Lawyer  John  G.  Jones  is  a  thirty-third 
degree  Mason,  and  has  the  honor  of  now 
being  the  highest  and  most  distinguished 
colored  Mason  in  the  world.  He  was  the 


THE   GUIDE   TO    SUCCESS. 


155 


first  colored  Mason  in  the  United  States  of 
America  to  have  the  degree  of  the  Mystic 
Shrine  of  Freemasonry  conferred  upon  him, 
and  with  power  and  authority  granted  to  him 
by  the  Grand  Council  of  Arabia  to  confer 
the  degree  upon  the  colored  Masons  in  this 
country.  He  is  holding  a  high  and  impor 
tant  position  in  the  Order,  as  Most  Imperial 
Grand  Potentate  of  the  Imperial  Grand 
Council  of  the  Mystic  Shrine  of  Masonry 
for  North  and  South  America.  He  makes  a 
success  of  whatever  he  undertakes. 

NATURAL 

SOME  one  has  said  that  labor  is  a  sub 
stitute  for   genius.     There  are  per 
sons  who  have  great  natural  ability, 
and   are    gifted    to    a    remarkable 
degree.     It    is    not   certain,    however,  that 
they  will,  on  this  account,  make  life  a  grand 
success. 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  the  renowned  painter, 
whose  works  are  masterpieces,  was  so  earnest 
a  believer  in  the  force  of  industry  that  he 
held  that  all  men  might  achieve  excellence 
if  they  would  but  exercise  the  power  of 
assiduous  and  patient  working.  He  held 
that  drudgery  lay  on  the  road  to  genius,  and 
that  there  was  no  limit  to  the  proficiency  of 
an  artist  except  the  limit  of  his  own  pains 
taking.  He  would  not  believe  in  what  is 
called  inspiration,  but  only  in  study  and 
labor. 

"Excellence,"  he  said,  "is  never  granted 
to  man  but  as  the  reward  of  labor."  "  If 
you  have  great  talents,  industry  will  improve 
them  ;  if  you  have  but  moderate  abilities, 
industry  will  supply  the  deficiency.  Nothing 
is  denied  to  well-directed  labor ;  nothing  is 
to  be  obtained  without  it."  Sir  Fowell  Bux- 
ton  was  an  equal  believer  in  the  power  of 
study ;  and  he  entertained  the  modest  idea 
that  he  could  do  as  well  as  other  men  if  he 


The  foregoing  lessons  of  success  through 
steady  endeavor  are  also  taught  in  the  bril 
liant  career  of  Mr.  Charles  W.  Anderson. 
He  is  a  graduate  of  Yale  College,  and  was 
private  secretary  to  the  State  Treasurer  of 
New  York.  He  delivered  an  oration  on 
Lincoln's  Birthday  before  the  Marquet  Club 
of  Chicago,  one  of  the  leading  Republican 
Clubs  of  the  West,  which  marked  him  at 
once  as  a  scholar  and  an  orator.  He  is  a 
thorough  worker,  a  man  of  rare  endowments, 
and  wins  by  acknowledged  merit. 

ABILITY. 

devoted  to  the  pursuit  double  the  time  and 
labor  that  they  did. 

It  is  the  use  we  make  of  the  powers  in 
trusted  to  us,  which  constitutes  our  only  just 
claim  to  respect.  He  who  employs  his  one 
talent  aright  is  as  much  to  be  honored  as  he 
to  whom  ten  talents  have  been  given.  There 
is  really  no  more  personal  merit  attaching  to 
the  possession  of  superior  intellectual  powers 
than  there  is  in  the  succession  to  a  large 

o 

estate.  How  are  those  powers  used — how 
is  that  estate  employed  ?  The  mind  may 
accumulate  large  stores  of  knowledge  with 
out  any  useful  purpose  ;  but  the  knowledge 
must  be  allied  to  goodness  and  wisdom,  and 
embodied  in  upright  character,  else  it  is 
naught. 

What  Makes  the  Man. 

It  is  not  ease,  but  effort — not  facility,  but 
difficulty,  that  makes  men.  There  is,  per 
haps,  no  station  in  life,  in  which  difficulties 
have  not  to  be  encountered  and  overcome 
before  any  decided  measure  of  success  can 
be  achieved.  Those  difficulties  are,  how 
ever,  our  best  instructors,  as  our  mistakes 
often  form  our  best  experience.  Charles 
James  Fox  was  accustomed  to  say  that  he 
hoped  more  for  a  man  who  failed,  and  yet 


156 


THE   GUIDE   TO    SUCCESS. 


went  on  in  spite  of  his  failure,  than  from  the 
Buoyant  career  of  the  successful. 

"  It  is  all  very  well,"  said  he,  "  to  tell  me 
rliat  a  young  man  has  distinguished  himself 
by  a  brilliant  first  speech.  He  may  go  on, 
or  he  may  be  satisfied  with  his  first  triumph  ; 
but  show  me  a  young  man  who  has  not  suc 
ceeded  at  first,  but  has  gone  on,  and  that 
young  man  will  do  better  than  most  of  those 
who  succeeded  at  the  first  trial." 


HON.  SAMUEL  R.  LOWERY. 

We  learn  wisdom  from  failure  much  more 
than  from  success.  We  often  discover  what 
will  do,  by  finding  out  what  will  not  do  ;  and 
probably  he  who  never  made  a  mistake  never 
made  a  discovery,  It  was  the  failure  in  the 
attempt  to  make  a  sucking-pump  act,  when 
the  working-bucket  was  more  than  thirty- 
three  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  water  to 
be  raised,  that  led  observant  men  to  study 
the  law  of  atmospheric  pressure,  and  opened 


a  new  field  of  research  to  the  genius  of 
Galileo,  Torrecelli  and  Boyle.  John  Hunter 
used  to  remark  that  the  art  of  surgery 
would  not  advance  until  professional  men 
had  the  courage  to  publish  their  failures  as 
well  as  their  successes.  Watt,  the  engineer, 
said  of  all  things  most  wanted  in  mechanical 
engineering  was  a  history  of  failures  :  "  We 
want,"  he  said,  "  a  book  of  blots." 

But  if  you  fail  once,  go  right  ahead  and 
don't  stop  for  trifles.  In  this  connec 
tion  let  us  point  to  Hon.  Samuel  R. 
Lowery,  whose  perseverance  and  in 
dustry  are  worthy  of  note.  He  was 
born  December  9,  1830.  His  mother 
was  a  free  woman,  a  Cherokee,  and 
his  father  was  a  slave.  He  lost  his 
mother  at  the  age  of  eight  years. 
The  young  man  tried  to  get  learning 
by  working  at  the  Franklin  College 
and  studying  privately  under  the  Rev. 
Talbot  Fanning.  He  began  teaching 
school  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  and  for 
four  years  had  marked  success.  In 
1849  he  united  with  the  Church  of 
the  Disciples  and  began  preaching 
that  faith.  He  married  in  1858  and 
removed  to  Canada,  returning  to  the 
States  after  three  years  and  settling 
on  a  farm  in  Ohio. 

In  1863  he  went  to  Nashville  and 
preached  to  the  free  men  and  colored 
soldiers ;  then  served  as  chaplain  of 
the  Ninth  United  States  Heavy  Artillery 
until  the  close  of  the  war.  After  the  war  he 
began  the  study  of  law,  and  was  admitted  to 
the  bar.  In  1875  he  removed  to  Hunts- 
ville,  Ala.,  where  he  continued  the  practice 
of  law,  preaching  until  1877,  when  he  took 
up  the  culture  of  silk  worms.  He  has  re-| 
ceived  very  little  encouragement  from  his 
own  city,  but  has,  nevertheless,  made  a  suc 
cess  of  the  enterprise. 


THE   GUIDE   TO    SUCCESS. 


157 


Thus  he  conquered  success  in  spite  of 
obstacles.  The  very  greatest  things — great 
thoughts,  great  discoveries,  inventions — have 
usually  been  nurtured  in  hardship,  often 
pondered  over  in  sorrow,  and  at  length 
stablished  with  difficulty. 

Spoiled  by  Great  Ability. 

Beethoven  said  of  Rossini  that  he  had  in 
him  the  stuff  to  have  made  a  good  musician 
if  he  had  only,  when  a  boy,  been  well 
flogged ;  but  that  he  had  been  spoiled  by 
the  facility  with  which  he  composed.  Men 
who  feel  their  strength  within  them  need  not 
fear  to  encounter  adverse  opinions ;  they 
have  far  greater  reason  to  fear  undue  praise 
and  too  friendly  criticism.  When  Mendels 
sohn  was  about  to  enter  the  orchestra  at 
Birmingham  on  the  first  performance  of  his 
"Elijah,"  he  said,  laughingly,  to  one  of  his 
friends  and  critics:  "Stick  your  claws  into 
me.  Don't  tell  me  what  you  like,  but  what 
you  don't  like  ! " 

It  has  been  said,  and  truly,  that  it  k  che 
defeat  that  tries  the  general  more  than  the 
victory.  Washington  lost  more  battles  than 
he  gained;  but  he  succeeded  in  the  end. 
The  Romans,  in  their  most  victorious  cam 
paigns,  almost  invariably  began  with  defeats. 
Moreau  used  to  be  compared  by  his  com 
panions  to  a  drum,  which  nobody  hears  of 
except  it  be  beaten. 

Wellington's  military  genius  was  per 
fected  by  encounter  with  difficulties  of  ap 
parently  the  most  overwhelming  character, 
but  which  only  served  to  move  his  resolu 
tion,  and  bring  out  more  prominently  his 
great  qualities  as  a  man  and  a  general.  So 
the  skilful  mariner  obtains  his  best  experi 
ence  amid  storms  and  tempests,  which  train 
him  to  self-reliance,  courage  and  the  highest 
discipline ;  and  we  probably  owe  to  rough 
seas  and  wintry  nights  the  best  training  of 


our  race  of  seamen,  who  are  certainly  not 
surpassed  by  any  in  the  world. 

In  this  way  your  native  ability  is  put  to 
the  test,  is  developed  and  grows  with  every 
new  effort.  But  be  sure  you  find  out  what 
you  are  fitted  for,  and,  if  you  have  a  talent 
for  any  one  thing,  this  points  out  your  life 
work.  This  is  what  William  A.  Hazel,  of 
St.  Paul,  Minn.,  did,  of  whom  we  will  give 
you  a  sketch. 

Distanced  All  Competitors. 

In  a  competition  with  nine  firms  for 
designs  for  windows  for  a  Catholic  Church 
in  Austin,  Minn.,  he  won  over  all  competi 
tors.  The  decision  and  the  award  for  putting 
in  the  stained  glass  windows  was  made  to  a 
company  in  St.  Paul  against  eight  other 
firms.  The  award  was  made  on  the  merits 
of  the  designs  alone,  as  the  cost  of  the  win 
dows,  $3,000,  was  specified.  Mr.  Hazel's 
designs  won,  and  the  salient  feature  of  his 
success  is  that  all  his  competitors  were  white 
men,  he  being  an  Afro-American  and  South 
ern  born. 

Mr.  Hazel,  however,  is  an  acknowledged 
artist  in  his  line  of  business  as  an  architect, 
decorator  and  designer,  and  this  success  is 
not  the  first  that  has  rewarded  his  skill  and 
conception  as  an  artist.  He  is  a  man  about 
forty  years  old,  handsome,  though  quite 
dark,  intelligent  and  accomplished  in  manner 
and  well-educated. 

He  was  born  in  Wilmington,  N.  .C.  He 
received  a  public  school  education  at  Cam 
bridge,  Mass.,  and  at  the  age  of  seventeen 
entered  the  service  of  a  Boston  architect  as 
office  boy.  He  took  a  liking  to  the  work 
and  soon  acquired  considerable  knowledge 
of  architectural  draughtsmanship.  His  work 
was  continued  with  leading  architects  in  New 
York  city,  and  on  returning  to  Boston  he 
took  up  the  study  of  decorative  art,  filling 


1-58 


THE   GUIDE  TO    SUCCESS. 


the  position  of  designer  of  stained  glass  de 
corations  with  a  Boston  concern. 

Mr.  Hazel  has  written  considerable  upon 
the  subject  of  decorative  art,  having  read 
papers  before  the  Minneapolis  Society  of 
Fine  Arts  Class  in  Architecture  at  the  State 
University,  and  before  the  Minnesota  Chap 
ter  of  the  American  Institute  of  Architects. 

Another  name  deserves  mention  as  an  il 
lustration  of  cultivating  one's  natural  ability. 
Granville  T.  Woods  was  born  in  Columbus, 
Ohio,  April  23,  1856.  At  an  early  age  he 
learned  the  machinist  and  blacksmith  trades. 
He  secured  employment  on  a  Western  rail 
road,  and,  having  a  great  deal  of  leisure, 
took  up  the  study  of  electricity.  He  re 
ceived  two  years'  special  training  in  electrical 
and  mechanical  engineering.  He  is  the  in 
ventor  of  the  "  Induction  Telegraph,"  a 
system  for  communicating  to  and  from  mov 
ing  trains. 

Energy  of  Will. 

This  invention  cost  him  much  study,  and 
any  man  of  less  determination  and  persist 
ency  would  have  failed.  He  had  a  strong 
will,  and  was  bound  to  succeed,  and  it  should 
never  be  forgotten  that  energy  of  will — self- 
originating  force  is  the  soul  of  every  great 
character.  Where  it  is,  there  is  life  ;  where 
it  is  not,  there  is  faintness,  helplessness  and 
despondency.  "The  strong  man  and  the 
waterfall,"  says  the  proverb,  "  channel  their 
own  path."  The  energetic  leader  of  noble 
spirit  not  only  wins  a  way  for  himself,  but  car 
ries  others  with  him.  His  every  act  has  a 
personal  significance,  indicating  vigor,  inde 
pendence  and  self-reliance,  and  unconsciously 
commands  respect,  admiration  and  homage. 
Such  intrepidity  of  character  characterized 
Luther,  Cromwell,  Washington,  Henry  Clay, 
Andrew  Jackson,  Pitt,  Wellington,  Frederick 
Douglass  and  all  great  leaders  of  men. 


"  I  am  convinced,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  in 
describing  the  qualities  of  Lord  Palmerston 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  shortly  after  his 
death — "I  am  convinced  that  it  was  the 
force  of  will,  a  sense  of  duty,  and  a  deter 
mination  not  to  give  in,  that  enabled  him  to 
make  himself  a  model  for  all  of  us  who  yet 
remain  and  follow  him,  with  feeble  and  un 
equal  steps,  in  the  discharge  of  our  duties; 
it  was  that  force  of  will  that  in  point  of  fact 
did  not  so  much  struggle  against  the  infirmi 
ties  of  old  age,  but  actually  repelled  them 
and  kept  them  at  a  distance." 

A  Successful  Attorney. 

Many  successful  Afro-Americans  might 
be  mentioned  to  pro-  e  the  truth  of  the  fore 
going  statements.  One  ij  Edward  H.  Morris, 
of  Chicago.  He  was  born  in  Kentucky  in 
1860,  and  graduated  from  St.  Patrick's  Col 
lege,  Chicago,  in  1878.  In  June,  1879,  he 
was  admitted  to  the  Illinois  bar,  and  to  the 
United  States  Supreme  Court  in  October, 
1885.  In  1891  he  was  elected  to  the  Illinois 
Legislature,  and  in  1892  was  appointed 
Attorney  for  South  Chicago. 

His  progress  has  been  steady  and  con 
stantly  upward.  In  1 894  he  was  appointed 
Assistant  District  Attorney  for  Cook  County, 
111.  He  is  a  prominent  Odd  Fellow,  and 
was  a  Deputy  Grand  Master  for  two  terms. 

Another  example  is  found  in  Mr.  Charles 
Winter  Wood,  elocutionist,  tragedian  and 
Greek  scholar.  He  was  a  bootblack  on  the 
streets  of  Chicago,  when  his  dramatic  ability 
attracted  the  attention  of  Justice  Blume. 
Funds  were  secured  to  defray  his  expenses, 
and  he  was  sent  to  Beloit  College,  Wis., 
where  he  has  won  signal  honors.  He  grad 
uated  in  1895  at  the  head  of  his  class.  He 
won  the  first  prize  in  the  Inter-Collegiate 
oratorical  contest  at  Appleton,  Wis.,  March 
15,  1895,  outranking  all  competitors. 


THE   GUIDE   TO    SUCCESS. 


159 


SELF=DENIAL. 


IT  is  wonderful  how  this  one  thought  that 
things  cannot  be  saved,  that  they  must 
give  themselves  up,  runs  through 
everything.  Would  you  have  a  suc 
cessful  business  ?  It  will  cost  you  care  and 
anxiety,  labor  and  capital ;  you  cannot  save 
yourself.  Would  you  be  a  scholar?  It 
will  cost  you  the  closest  study  and  applica 
tion,  and,  perhaps,  many  a  headache  and 
weary  hour.  Would  you  be  a  fine  piano 
player  ?  It  will  cost  you  unremitting  prac 
tice  and  steady  perseverance ;  and  even  then, 
perhaps,  you  will  feel  like  telling  people  that 
you  never  play.  Would  you  be  a  steno 
grapher  and  able  to  catch  the  burning 
thoughts  that  flow  from  the  lips  of  the 
orator  ?  Or,  would  you  be  the  orator  hold 
ing  listening  thousands  spellbound?  Your 
time,  your  effort,  your  earnestness  of  pur 
pose  alone  can  do  it.  There  must  always 
be  an  outlay.  There  is  no  escaping  the 
cost.  Sacrifice  is  the  grand  secret  of  success. 

"Neither  Weary  nor  Thirsty." 

When  the  army  of  Alexander  the  Great 
was  marching  against  Darius,  in  crossing 
the  deserts  they  often  suffered  more  for 
want  of  water  than  by  fatigue ;  many  of  the 
cavalry  were  unable  to  hold  out.  While 
they  were  upon  the  march  some  Macedon 
ians  had  filled  their  bottles  at  a  river,  and 
were  bringing  the  water  upon  mules.  These 
people,  seeing  Alexander  greatly  distressed 
with  thirst  (for  it  was  in  the  heat  of  the  day), 
immediately  filled  a  helmet  with  water,  and 
presented  it  to  him. 

He  asked  them  to  whom  they  were  carry 
ing  it,  and  they  said :  "  Our  sons  ;  but  if  our 
prince  does  but  live,  we  shall  get  other  chil 
dren  if  we  lose  them."  Upon  this  he  took 


the  helmet  in  his  hand ;  but  looking  round, 
and  seeing  all  the  horsemen  bending  their 
heads,  and  fixing  their  eyes  upon  the  water, 
he  returned  it  without  drinking.  However, 
he  praised  the  people  that  offered  it,  and 
said  :  "  If  I  alone  drink,  these  good  men  will 
be  dispirited."  The  cavalry,  who  were  wit 
nesses  to  this  act  of  temperance  and  mag 
nanimity,  cried  out,  "  Let  us  march !  We 
are  neither  weary  nor  thirsty,  nor  shall  we 
even  think  ourselves  mortal,  while  under  the 


HENRY  T.  WILLIAMS. 

conduct  of  such  a  king."  At  the  same  time 
they  put  spurs  to  their  horses  and  dashed 
away  with  fresh  courage. 

Says  Atterbury :  "A  good  man  not  only 
forbears  those  gratifications  which  are  for 
bidden  by  reason  and  religion,  but  even  re 
strains  himself  in  unforbidden  instances." 

Teach  self-denial,  and  make  its  practice 
pleasurable,  and  you  create  for  the  world  a 
destiny  more  sublime  than  ever  issued  from 
the  brain  of  the  wildest  dreamer. 


160 


THE   GUIDE   TO   SUCCESS. 


In  what  other  way  than  by  rigid  self- 
denial  and  hard  work  could  Richard  B. 
Harrison  ever  have  achieved  his  fame  ?  He 
is,  without  doubt,  the  greatest  Afro-American 
dramatic  reader  living.  He  was  born  in 
London,  in  the  province  of  Ontario,  Canada, 
in  September,  1864,  and  there  went  to  school 
until  he  was  seventeen  years  old.  At  that 
time  he,  with  his  parents,  moved  to  Detroit. 
Mich.,  and  soon  after  he  began  the  study  of 
elocution  under  Mrs.  Mollie  Lambert,  of  the 
Detroit  Training  School.  After  several 
years'  study  under  Mrs.  Lambert,  he  took 
up  his  dramatic  work  under  Prof.  Edward 
Weitzel. 

A  Weil-Known    Musician. 

With  equal  force  is  self-denying  culture 
and  severe  training  seen  in  the  enviable 
record  made  by  one  of  our  race,  Mr.  Henry 
T.  Williams,  the  celebrated  composer  of 
music  and  band  instructor.  He  has  achieved 
great  success  as  a  performer  on  the  violin, 
double  bass  and  the  cornet.  His  first  great 
triumph  was  at  the  Coliseum  in  Boston,  when 
he  attracted  much  notice  by  the  successful 
rendition  of  a  very  difficult  movement  on  the 
double  bass. 

Mr.  Williams  was  born  in  Boston,  August 
13,  1813,  and  began  the  study  of  the  violin 
at  the  early  age  of  seven.  His  great  success 
is  almost  entirely  due  to  his  own  persever 
ance  and  native  ability.  As  a  composer  his 
works  are  full  of  soothing  melody,  and  these 
were  often  rendered  by  the  band  of  the  cele 
brated  P.  S.  Gilmore. 

You  see  what  can  be  done  by  rigid  self- 
denial  and  sacrifice.  Says  Robert  Hall  : 
"  The  opportunities  of  making  great  sacri 
fices  for  the  good  of  mankind  are  of  rare 
occurrence,  and  he  who  remains  inactive  till 


it  is  in  his  power  to  confer  signal  benefits  or 
yield  important  services  is  in  imminent  danger 
of  incurring  the  doom  of  the  slothful  servant. 
It  is  the  preference  of  duty  to  inclination  in 
the  ordinary  course  of  life,  it  is  the  practice 
of  self-denial  in  a  thousand  little  instances, 
which  forms  the  truest  test  of  character,  and 
secures  the  honor  and  the  reward  of  those 
who  live  not  to  themselves." 

It  is  the  same  story  always  ;  only  by  self- 
denying  labor  and  close  application  have 
those  immortal  men  risen  to  honor  and 
power,  who  have  blessed  their  race,  and  are 
remembered  for  achievements  both  good  and 
great.  Says  Sir  Walter  Scott :  "  There 
never  did  and  never  will  exist  anything  per 
manently  noble  and  excellent  in  a  character 
which  was  a  stranger  to  the  exercise  of  reso 
lute  self-denial." 

How  to  Double  Pleasures. 

But  if  there  were  no  such  consideration 
as  the  good  effect  which  self-denial  has  upon 
the  sense  of  other  men  towards  us,  it  is  of 
all  qualities  the  most  desirable  for  the  agree 
able  disposition  in  which  it  places  our  own 
minds.  I  cannot  tell  what  better  to  say  of 
it  than  that  it  is  the  very  contrary  of  ambi 
tion  ;  and  that  modesty  allays  all  those  pas 
sions  and  inquietudes  to  which  that  vice 
exposes  us. 

He  that  is  moderate  in  his  wishes,  from 
reason  and  choice,  and  not  resigned  from 
sourness,  distate  or  disappointment,  doubles 
all  the  pleasures  of  his  life.  The  air,  the 
season,  a  sunshiny  day,  or  a  fair  prospect 
are  instances  of  happiness ;  and  that  which 
he  enjoys  in  common  with  all  the  world  (by 
his  exemption  from  the  enchantments  by 
which  all  the  world  are  bewitched),  affords 
him  uncommon  benefits. 


HEROISM  2™  COLORED  SOLDIERS 

IN  OUR  WRR  WITH  SPAIN 


IN   our   War   with    Spain    the    colored 
soldiers    showed    great    bravery    and 
acquitted      themselves      with     distin 
guished     honor.     They     proved     by 
their    conduct    that    they    possess    all    the 
elements  of  true  courage  and  heroism. 

The  two  colored  cavalry  regiments,  the 
Ninth  and  Tenth  Regulars,  were  among 
the  most  popular  soldiers  in  Cuba.  They 
were  quiet,  well-mannered,  cheerful  fellows, 
these  colored  troopers,  and  far  sooner  than 
any  of  the  other  Cuban  veterans  they  recov 
ered  their  spirits  and  vitality  after  the  cam 
paign.  In  an  encampment  made  up  chiefly 
of  the  sick  and  half  sick,  it  was  inspiring  to 
meet  on  the  road  a  group  of  these  soldiers 
jogging  along  in  lively  conversation,  their 
white  teeth  gleaming  in  smiles.  As  to 
their  abilities  in  battle  but  one  opinion 
was  expressed,  and  almost  invariably  in 
the  same  words  : 

Brave  Fighters. 

"Those  colored  chaps  fought  like  devils." 
Many  are  the  stories  of  their  prowess,  told 
by  the  men  of  the  other  regiments.  A  com 
pany  of  the  Tenth  went  into  action  singing. 
Two  men  of  another  company  enlivened 
their  comrades  during  a  very  trying  halt 
under  fire  by  executing  a  double-flop  dance, 
to  which  the  whole  company  began  presently 
to  clap  out  the  time ;  their  officers,  mean 
while,  being  wisely  blind  and  deaf  to  these 
rather  unusual  tactics.  The  Rough  Riders 
were  enthusiastic  over  the  Ninth  Regiment. 

When  Roosevelt's  men    had    made  their 


rush  up  San  Juan  Hill  they  found  themselves 
in  a  very  bad  position,  pressed  by  a  superior 
force  of  the  enemy  on  both  flanks  and  in 
front.  It  is  generally  admitted  that  they 
could  not  have  held  their  position  but  for 
the  splendid  charge  of  the  colored  men  to 
their  support.  After  the  worst  of  the  fight 
ing  was  over,  a  Rough  Rider,  finding  himself 
near  one  of  the  colored  troopers,  walked  up 
and  grasped  his  hand,  saying : 

"  We've  got  you  fellows  to  thank  for 
getting  us  out  of  a  bad  hole." 

"  Dat's  all  right,  boss,"  said  the  soldier, 
with  a  broad  grin. .  "  Dat's  all  right.  It's 
all  in  de  fam'ly.  We  call  ouahselves  de 
Colored  Rough  Riders." 

Always  Cheerful  and  Ready. 

"  It  was  a  matter  of  considerable  doubt," 
an  officer  of  the  regular  infantry  says, 
"  whether  the  colored  troops  would  acquit 
themselves  well.  We  of  the  army  knew 
them  to  be  good  Indian  fighters,  but  this 
Cuban  business  was  no  more  like  Indian 
fighting  than  a  game  of  marbles  is  like 
billiards.  Probably  it  was  because  I  am 
from  the  South  that  I  didn't  think  much  of 
the  colored  regiments,  but  having  seen  those 
fellows  in  action  I've  changed  my  mind 
completely.  They  were  the  best,  the  readiest, 
the  most  cheerful,  and,  I  believe,  the  dead 
liest  fighters  in  the  war. 

"  In  the  charge  up  the  hill  a  volunteer 
who  had  got  separated  from  his  company, 
who  looked  pretty  badly  rattled,  got  caught 
in  the  rush  and  carried  along.  A  big  fellow 


HEROISM  OF  THE  COLORED  SOLDIERS. 


behind  him  kept  spurring  him  on  and  trying 
to  encourage  him,  but  the  man  was  badly 
rattled  and  tried  to  get  away.  That  settled 
him  with  the  troopers,  who  began  to  guy 
him,  asking  his  name  and  address  for  pur 
poses  of  identification,  and  assuring  him  that 
;he  would  be  readily  distinguished  among 
the  other  dead  on  account  of  his  color. 
Presently  a  Mauser  bullet  clipped  the  sleeve 
of  the  man  next  to  him.  The  trooper  turned 
to  the  volunteer : 

"  '  Honey,  dat  bullet  was  a-callin'  youah 
name,  shuah,'  he  said. 

No  Shrinking  Under  Fire. 

"  They  tell  me  that  the  volunteer  finally 
plucked  up  his  spirits  and  fought  so  well 
that  the  negroes  assured  him  that  in  the 
next  battle  he'd  be  an  honor  to  any  regi 
ment.  One  thing  I  noticed  about  the  negro 
troopers  was  that  they. evinced  less  inclina 
tion  to  duck  when  the  bullets  whistled  over 
them  than  the  other  soldiers  showed.  A 
sergeant  explained  it  to  me  this  way : 

"  '  Wen  de  bullet  go  along  it  say,  "  Pi-yi- 
yi !  Pi-yi-yi !  "  Nobody  ain'  goin'  to  min' 
dat.  But  de  shrapnel,  dat's  different.  Dat 
say,  "  Oo-oo  oo-oo  ;  I  want  yeh,  I  want  yeh, 
I  want  yeh,  mah  honey  !  "  Dat's  w'at  makes 
a  man's  head  kindah  shrink  like  between  his 
shouldahs.' 

"  However,  I  didn't  see  any  shrinking  that 
could  be  identified  as  such  among  those  men. 
There  wasn't  an  instant  during  the  fighting 
that  they  didn't  look  as  if  they  were  in  the 
very  place  of  all  places  on  earth  where  they 
most  wished  to  be." 

I  At  Camp  Montauk  the  colored  men  as- 
'siduously  cultivated  the  gentle  arts  of  peace. 
Every  night  they  sat  outdoors  and  sang. 
The  Ninth  men  staked  out  a  baseball  dia 
mond  on  the  flat  near  the  Life-saving  Station 
and  played  a  most  tumultuous  game  of  ball, 


which  would  have  resulted  more  definitely 
if  in  the  third  inning  the  runs  hadn't  piled 
up  so  high  that  the  scorer  collapsed  with 
exhaustion  and  fell  asleep.  As  no  two  of 
the  players  agreed  on  the  score,  the  game 
was  declared  "no  contest." 

The  Tenth  Cavalryman  who  had  his  guitar 
with  him  was  the  centre  of  a  large  audience 
every  afternoon,  and  he  was  hustling  around 
trying  to  pursuade  some  of  the  banjo  and 
mandolin  players  to  beg  or  borrow  instru 
ments  which  could  be  sent  to  them,  so  that 
he  could  get  up  a  string  orchestra.  Certain 
sportsmen  of  the  Ninth  organized  cross 
country  hunts  after  the  frog,  which  abounds 
in  the  marshes.  They  stalked  him  to  his 
lair,  and  then  swathed  him  with  the  unpoetic 
but  substantial  club,  whereupon  he  croaked 
his  last  croak  and  rendered  up  his  muscular 
legs  to  make  a  dainty  feast. 

Good  Hunters. 

Two  hunters  who  beat  along  the  little 
stream  flowing  back  of  the  Signal  Corps 
bagged  no  less  than  forty-seven  batrachians, 
not  counting  six  toads  which  they  killed  by 
mistake.  On  the  whole,  the  colored  soldiers 
got  more  out  of  camp  life  than  any  one  else 
in  the  place. 

A  volunteer  whose  regiment  was  brigaded 
with  the  Twenty-fourth  (colored)  Infantry 
through  the  Cuban  campaign  said  that 
"  they  were  better  Christians  than  the  white 
men." 

"  We  had  a  lot  of  trouble  about  firewood 
on  the  island,"  said  he.  It  was  hard  to  find, 
and  it  often  had  to  be  carried  two  miles  to 
our  quarters.  Gathering  it  was  a  heavy  job 
for  our  fellows,  for  most  of  them  were  pretty 
weak  on  account  of  the  fever.  The  fellow^ 
in  the  white  regiment  in  our  command  were 
a  little  better  off  than  we  were — they  were 
regulars,  you  know — and  managed  to  have 


HEROISM  OF  THE  COLORED  SOLDIERS. 


111 


fires  pretty  regularly.  If  we  had  had  to 
depend  on  them  we  would  have  put  cold 
rations  in  our  stomachs  all  the  time. 

"  '  Say  old  man/  I  heard  said  to  them, 
'  let's  cook  a  little  stuff  on  your  fire  when 
you're  through  with  it  ;  won't  you  please?' 

"  'And  what  do  you  think  they'd  say  ? 

"  'Aw,  go  hang,'  one  of 'em  said  to  me. 
'  We  ain't  got  enough  for  ourselves.' 

Men  with  Big  Hearts. 

"  It  was  a  good  deal  to  ask  of  a  man,  I'll 
admit.  Why,  I've  seen  half  a  dozen  sick 
men  wait  around  a  fire  until  the  men  who 
owned  it  were  through,  and  then  make  a 
rush  for  the  embers,  like  seven  dogs  after  one 
bone.  But  the  colored  men  were  different ; 
they  had  bigger  hearts.  They  stood  the 
campaign  in  great  shape,  you  know,  and  it 
wasn't  much  for  them  to  gather  firewood. 
They'd  build  a  fire  six  feet  long,  and  they 
never  crowded  a  poor  weak  man  out  if  he 
wanted  to  use  it. 

"  '  Gimme  a  chance  at  your  fire  ?'  the  fel 
lows  would  ask  them. 

"  '  Co'se,'  they'd  say,  '  what  yo'  think  we 
made  a  big  fire  fo',  anyway?  T'  cook  our 
own  grub  o'ny  ?  Come  on,  honey.' 

"  That's  just  the  way  they'd  say  it,  and  as 
jolly  as  you  like.  The  colored  soldiers  are 
all  right ;  and  I've  got  a  place  in  my  heart 
for  the  Twenty-fourth  Infantry,  I  tell  you." 

The  men  tell  many  instances  of  like  kind 
nesses.  They  do  not  begrudge  credit  to  the 
colored  soldiers  for  their  bravery  through 
the  campaign.  And  the  negroes  appreciate 
this  show  of  good  feeling  "  Why,"  one  of 
them  said  not  long  ago,  "  them  Rough 
Riders  are  like  brothers.  I've  et  with  '  em  ; 
I've  slept  with  'em  ;  I've  fit  with  'em,  and  I 
feel  as  if  I  was  one  of  'em." 

A  regular  who  came  into  close  contact 
with  the  Ninth  Cavalry  (colored)  said  : 


"  I  remember  once  we  were  standing  in 
the  bushes  along  the  trail  when  the  Ninth 
came  by  us.  The  men  were  in  great  spirits 
— laughing  and  talking,  though  the  fight 
was  just  a  little  way  before  them. 

"'Hello,  boy,'  one  big  fellow  yelled  to 
me,  'any  fruit  on  the  trees  'round  yere?' 

" '  I  ain't  seen  any,'  a  man  behind  me 
says.  '  An'  I  ain't  looking  for  any — not  in 
my  state.' 

"  Well,  the  colored  men  burst  out  laugh 
ing,  and  they  kept  it  up — '  haw  haw,  haw.' 

"  '  What  kind  of  fruit  ?'  says  I. 

"  '  Oh,  sharpshooters,'  says  the  big  man 
that  spoke  to  me.  '  Haw,  haw,  haw.'  I've 
heard  they  found  some." 

It  has  often  been  said  that  a  negro  regi 
ment  must  be  well  officered  and  well 
"  pushed,"  or  it  will  not  give  a  good  account 
of  itself  on  the  firing  line.  The  white  pri 
vates  at  Montauk,  however,  seem  to  think 
that  the  "negro  is  a  fighter"  for  the  pure 
love  of  it. 

Over  a  Shot-Swept  Hill. 

"  In  the  trenches  at  San  Juan,"  said  a  vol 
unteer  corporal,  "the  Twenty-fourth  re 
lieved  us,  and  we  them.  Lying  in  the 
trenches  there  was  hard  and  nervous  work, 
and  it  was  a  happy  time  for  the  squad  when 
the  relief  came.  I've  heard  our  men  kick 
when  they  had  to  go  into  the  fight  again, 
but  I  never  heard  a  colored  soldier  do  it. 
It  was  coming  hard  one  evening,  and  I  guess 
the  colored  fellows  knew  it  and  thought  we 
might  need  a  little  support,  though  things 
hadn't  got  critical  at  all.  All  at  once  I 
was  startled  by  two  big  men  scrambling  in 
nearly  on  top  of  us."  They  were  colored 
soldiers. 

"  '  What  the ?'  the  man  I  was  with 

began. 

"  '  All  right,  boys,  don't  get  scared  ;  it's 


IV 


HEROISM   OF   THE   COLORED    SOLDIERS. 


all  right.  We  thought  yo'  might  want  a 
niggah  er  two,  an'  we  come  up  t'  see.' 

"  'Come  up,'  said  I,  '  over  the  hill  ?'  The 
bullets  were  skimming  over  our  trenches, 
you  know,  and  sweeping  the  top  of  the  hill 
behind  which  the  reserves  were  lying. 

"  '  Co'se,  we  didn't  come  nohow  else,'  says 
one.  'There  was  three  of  us  sta'ted.' 

"  '  Where's  the  other  one  ?  '  says  I. 

"  '  We  carried  him  back,'  says  they,  '  an' 
come  on  ag'in. 

Story  of  a  Sergeant. 

This  volunteer  comrade  told  the  story  of 
a  negro  sergeant  whose  name  he  did  not 
know  : 

"  It  was  in  that  same  fight,"  said  he,  "and, 
as  bunkie  here  has  told  you,  we  took  turns 
in  the  trenches  with  the  Twenty-fourth. 
You  must  understand  that  we  held  both 
sides  of  the  hill,  and  that  the  trenches  were 
high  up  on  the  one  side,  and  the  place  where 
the  reserves  were  was  pretty  well  down  on 
the  other ;  the  Spaniards  were  firing  on  our 
Hne  from  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  so  the 
bullets  went  over  the  crest  low  down,  and  it 
was  a  most  dangerous  place  to  be.  When 
we  were  relieved  we  had  to  get  over  that 
spot  to  reach  our  reserve  position.  There 
was  no  cover,  and  the  Spaniards  had  the 
range  down  fine. 

"  Well,  there  was  a  blockhouse  on  the 
top  of  the  hill,  with  a  door  in  the  side  of  it. 
That  door  was  in  sight  from  both  sides  ;  so 
it  took  a  nervy  man  to  dodge  in  or  out  of  it. 
One  morning,  when  we  were  about  to  go 
back  to  rest,  a  negro  sergeant,  who  was  in 
charge  of  the  relief  squad,  dodged  in  from 
behind  without  getting  hit.  We  were  wait 
ing  to  make  a  run  for  it  when  we  saw  him. 
The  Spaniards  caught  sight  of  him  as  he  ran 
in,  and  fired  hot.  Out  he  jumped  and 
yelled  : 


" 'Now's  our  chance,  boys;  come  on.' 
Then  he  got  in  again. 

"A  couple  of  the  boys  ran  out  and  over, 
and  the  shooting  went  on.  They  were  firing 
in  volleys  ;  and  every  time  that  sergeant 
would  hear  a  volley  he'd  be  out  waving  his 
hand  and  yelling  : 

"  '  They  can't  hit  yo'  ;  they  can't  hit  yo'. 
Now's  your  chance.' 

"  I  thought  I'd  see  him  drop  every  time  ; 
but  they  couldn't  hit  him.  I  tell  you, 
he  helped  us  out.  He  was  like  a  baseball 
coacher,  trying  to  rattle  the  other  side,  and 
getting  his  own  men  around  the  bases.  It 
was  so  like  it  that  I  could  pretty  near  hear  old 
Bill  Joyce  yelling  :  '  Lead  off  there  ;  lead  off! 
Now  slide  !  slide  ! '  And  I  swear  I  could  see 
the  old  diamond  at  the  Polo  Grounds.  Well, 
we  only  lost  one  man  wounded." 

A  Big  Fellow's  Bracelets. 

A  strapping  colored  soldier,  who  had  a 
silver  bracelet  on  his  thick,  black  wrist,  and 
another  in  his  pocket,  "  because  it  was  too 
small  to  go  'round,"  and  some  gold  and 
silver  trinkets  hanging  on  his  bosom,  was 
riding  toward  the  station  on  a  mule  wagon 
at  camp.  He  was  a  strong  man,  with  a 
slight  moustache  and  a  woolly  chin  beard, 
and  he  was  as  black  as  ebony. 

"See  that?"  he  said,  taking  the  small 
bracelet  from  his  pocket,  "  I  got  that  from  a 
Cuban  lady.  She  was  one  of  these  re — re — 
recon — cen — trades.  We  were  on  a  forced 
march,  and  she  come  along — and  stood  by 
the  road.  She  grabbed  me  by  the  arm,  and 
made  signs  that  she  was  hungry.  Then  she 
handed  me  this  thing  out.  I  had  six  hard 
tack,  and  gave  her  three.  And  say,  she 
kissed  my  hand.  I'm  keeping  the  jewelry 
for  my  sister.  That's  how  I  got  it ;  and 
that's  how  lots  of  the  boys  come  by  theirs. 
What  you  laffin'  at  man  ?  Eh  !  " 


HEROISM    OF   THE   COLORED    SOLDIERS. 


"  Didn't  you  see  that  mule  wag  its  ears  ?  " 

"Oh!  huh!" 

"  It  was  after  the  fight  at  Caney,"  said 
another  witness  of  the  colored  soldiers' 
bravery,  "  the  boys  were  all  tired  out,  you 
know ;  they  had  been  keyed  up  to  concert 
pitch  so  long  that  when  it  was  all  over  and 
the  relaxation  came  they  were  like  dishrags. 
Everything  was  quiet  and  only  now  and  then 
would  a  Mauser  bullet  sing  in  our  ears,  for 
the  sharpshooters  were  still  at  their  deadly 
work.  It  was  necessary  that  they  should  be 
dislodged  from  their  perches  in  the  trees, 
and  to  bring  about  such  an  end  a  means  was 
adopted  that  was  original  and  grimly  humor 
ous. 

"  With  us,  before  Caney,  was  the  Tenth 
United  States  Cavalry,  a  regiment  of  colored 
troops,  seasoned  fighters,  and  as  brave  and 
soldierly  a  crowd  of  men  as  ever  snapped  a 
Krag-Jorgensen.  Upon  them  devolved  the 
duty  of  cleaning  out  the  sharpshooters. 
They  were  ordered  to  take  up  their  rifles 
and  go  out  gunning  for  the  Spaniards,  singly 
and  in  little  parties  of  two  and  three  and  four. 

Looking  for  "  Squirrels." 

"  When  the  order  was  given  these  colored 
boys  let  out  a  yell  of  delight  that  it  seems 
to  me  must  have  been  heard  in  Havana. 
They  started  helter-skelter  from  the  camp. 
The  delight  they  took  in  the  work  was 
deadly  humorous.  It  was  simply  a  '  coon 
hunt '  or  a  '  squirrel  shooting  bee  '  to  them. 
One  would  duck  in  and  out  among  the 
bushes  and  wriggle  his  body  through  the 
grass,  his  eye  fixed  on  some  tree  or  other. 
He  would  spot  a  sharpshooter  half  concealed 
up  there  in  the  branches,  and  creeping  up 
would  pop  a  bullet  at  him.  The  aim  was, 
in  every  case  so  far  as  we  were  able  to  learn, 
astonishingly  accurate.  Down  from  out  the 
tree  would  tumble  the  Spaniard,  and  the 


colored  trooper  would  laugh  and  shout 
across  to  a  mate  across  the  field :  '  Dar's 
annuder  squirrel,  Gawge  !  ' 

"  Then  he  would  wriggle  along  a  few  rods 
farther  and  bring  down  another.  The  sport 
of  picking  off  those  sharpshooters  was  better 
than  a  coon  hunt  in  Georgia  to  the  colored 
troopers,  and  in  less  than  half  an  hour  they 
had  knocked  out  eighteen  of  the  Spaniards. 
When  they  came  back  to  camp  they  sat 
around  for  an  hour  telling  each  other  how 
they'd  fetched  'em,  and  they'd  laugh  till 
their  sides  ached  in  recounting  the  gyrations 
the  sharpshooters  would  go  through  in  the 
air  and  when  they  struck  the  ground.  After 
that  the  Tenth  Cavalry  came  to  be  known 
as  the  '  squirrel  hunters  '  among  the  other 
soldiers." 

Rushed  into  Battle. 

Our  colored  troops  gave  an  excellent  ac 
count  of  themselves  at  Santiago,  and  proved 
that  in  fighting  qualities  they  are  inferior  to 
none.  Lewis  Bowman  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry, 
who  had  two  ribs  broken  by  a  bursting 
Spanish  shell  before  San  Juan,  said,  after 
describing  the  landing  and  marching  to  the 
front : 

"  The  Rough  Riders  had  gone  off  in  great 
glee,  bantering  us  and  good-naturedly  boast 
ing  that  they  were  going  ahead  to  lick  the 
Spaniards  without  any  trouble,  and  advising 
us  to  remain  where  we  were  until  they  re 
turned,  and  they  would  bring  back  some 
Spanish  heads  as  trophies.  When  we  heard 
firing  in  the  distance  our  captain  remarked, 
that  some  one  ahead  was  doing  good  work. 
The  firing  became  so  heavy  and  regular  that 
our  officers,  without  orders,  decided  to  move 
forward  and  reconnoitre. 

"  When  we  got  to  where  we  could  see 
what  was  going  on,  we  found  that  the  Rough 
Riders  had  marched  down  a  sort  of  a  canon 


VI 


HEROISM  OF  THE  COLORED  SOLDIERS. 


between  the  mountains.  The  Spaniards  had 
men  posted  at  the  entrance,  and  as  soon  as 
the  Rough  Riders  had  gone  in  had  about 
closed  up  the  rear,  and  were  firing  upon  the 
Rough  Riders  from  both  the  front  and  the 
rear.  Immediately  the  Spaniards  in  the  rear 
received  a  volley  from  our  men  of  the  Tenth 
Cavalry  without  command.  The  Spaniards 
were  afraid  we  were  going  to  flank  them, 
and  rushed  out  of  ambush,  in  front  of  the 
Rough  Riders,  throwing  up  their  hands  and 
shouting,  '  Don't  shoot ;  we  are  Cubans." 

Fighting  Under  Great  Difficulties. 

"  The  Rough  Riders  thus  let  them  escape, 
and  gave  them  a  chance  to  take  a  better 
position  ahead.  During  all  this  time  the 
men  were  all  in  tall  grass,  and  could  not  see 
even  each  other,  and  I  fear  the  Rough  Riders 
in  the  rear  shot  many  of  their  men  in  front, 
mistaking  them  for  Spanish  soldiers.  By 
this  time  the  Tenth  Cavalry  had  fully  taken 
in  the  situation,  and,  adopting  the  method 
employed  in  fighting  Indians,  were  able  to 
turn  the  tide  of  battle  and  repulse  the 
Spaniards. 

"  I  was  in  the  fight  of  July  ist,  and  it  was 
in  that  fight  that  I  received  my  wound.  We 
were  under  fire  in  that  fight  about  forty-eight 
hours,  and  were  without  food  and  with  but 
little  water.  We  had  been  cut  off  from  our 
pack  train,  as  the  Spanish  sharpshooters  shot 
our  mules  as  soon  as  they  came  anywhere 
near  the  lines,  and  it  was  impossible  to  move 
supplies.  Very  soon  after  the  firing  began 
our  colonel  was  killed  and  the  most  of  our 
other  officers  were  killed  or  wounded,  so 
that  the  greater  part  of  that  desperate  battle 
was  fought  by  some  of  the  Ninth  and  Tenth 
Cavalry  without  officers  ;  or,  at  least,  if  there 
were  any  officers  around,  we  neither  saw 
them  nor  heard  their  commands.  The  last 
command  I  heard  our  captain  give  was : 


'  Boys,  when  you  hear  me  whistle,  lie  flat 
down  on  the  ground.' 

"  Whether  he  ever  whistled  or  not  I  do 
not  know.  The  next  move  we  made  was 
when,  with  a  terrific  yell,  we  charged  up  to 
the  Spanish  trenches  and  bayoneted  and 
clubbed  them  out  of  their  places  in  a  jiffy. 
Some  of  the  men  of  our  regiment  say  that 
the  last  command  they  heard  vvas  '  To  the 
rear!'  But  this  command  they  utterly  dis 
regarded  and  charged  to  the  front  until  the 
day  was  won,  and  the  Spaniards,  those  not 
dead  in  the  trenches,  fled  back  to  the  city. 

Raising  the  Stars  and  Stripes. 

"  At  San  Juan  I  had  the  pleasure  to  take 
some  of  those  blockhouses  you  hear  so 
much  about,  and  I  had  the  privilege  of  haul 
ing  down  the  Spanish  flag  and  planting  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  in  its  place.  The  sides  of 
the  blockhouse  gave  absolutely  no  place  for 
a  foothold  or  to  catch  with  the  hands.  One 
member  of  the  Seventy-first  New  York 
placed  his  .old  Springfield  rifle  on  the  ground, 
and,  by  placing  my  foot  on  the  hammer,  I 
climbed  upon  it  and  was  pushed  up  on  the 
stock  to  the  roof  of  the  house.  After  I  had 
hauled  down  the  Spanish  flag  and  was  about 
to  plant  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  a  bullet  came 
whizzing  in  my  direction.  It  cut  a  hole 
through  my  hat,  burning  my  head  slightly. 
That's  what  I  call  a  close  shave. 

"  In  the  charge  before  San  Juan  my  twin 
brother,  who  was  fighting  at  my  side,  was 
wounded,  and  I  could  stop  only  long  enough 
to  drag  him  off  the  firing  line.  I  returned 
to  the  fight,  and  in  a  few  minutes  a  shell 
burst  directly  among  us,  and  a  portion  of  it 
broke  two  of  my  ribs. 

"Our   men    didn't   care  at  all  about  the  I 
small   shot,  but  they  feared  the  shells  from  * 
the  large  Spanish  guns,  and   there  was  often 
a  lively  struggle  among  us  over  the  propri- 


&-  .    . 


" 


«1 


HEROISM    OF   THE    COLORED    SOLDIERS. 


vn 


etorship  of  a  particular  tree  to  which  sev 
eral  of  us  would  flee  at  once  for  refuge.  We 
were  greatly  worried  by  the  sharpshooters. 
In  going  toward  the  front  I  noticed  at  one 
point  that  several  of  our  men  and  officers 
were  shot,  and  that  no  one  seemed  able  to 
locate  the  marksman.  I  concluded  that  I 
should  not  go  around  that  way,  so  I  turned 
in  another  direction.  As  I  went  near  an  old 
tree  I  noticed  that  the  dirt  had  been  washed 
from  around  its  roots.  Happening  to  look 
under  it  I  spied  a  Spanish  sharpshooter.  He 
it  was  who  had  been  picking  off  our  men.  I 
slipped  up  behind  him  and  whacked  him  on 
the  neck,  breaking  it.  Our  men  were  no 
longer  molested  in  that  locality." 

Brought   Down  a  Spaniard. 

Willis,  of  the  Ninth  Cavalry,  told  of  his 
experience  in  picking  off  a  sharpshooter  who 
was  hidden  in  a  cocoanut  tree. 

"  They  had  been  getting  our  officers  in 
great  shape,"  he  said,  "and  we  couldn't  for 
the  life  of  us  locate  a  man  or  men  who  were 
doing  it.  Finally  a  bullet  struck  one  of  my 
comrades  near  me.  I  decided  that  it  was 
about  time  to  look  after  that  sharpshooter, 
so  I  kept  a  sharp  lookout  and  all  at  once  I 
saw  the  part  of  a  head  peeping  out  from 
behind  a  bunch  of  cocoanuts.  I  drew  a  bead 
on  it  and  instantly  a  Spaniard  tumbled  out 
of  that  tree.  As  a  memento  of  the  occasion 
I  hold  in  my  hand  a  watch  with  an  iron  case 
and  a  brass  chain,  which  I  took  from  the 
man  who  had  played  such  havoc  among  our 
men." 

William  H.  Brown,  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry, 
said:  "A  foreign  officer,  standing  near  our 
position  when  we  started  out  to  make  that 
charge,  was  heard  to  say,  '  Men,  for  heaven's 
sake  don't  go  up  that  hill.  It  will  be 
impossible  for  human  beings  to  take  that 
position.  You  can't  stand  the  fire.'  Not 


withstanding  this,  with  a  te/rific  ye'ii  we 
rushed  up  to  the  enemy's  works,  and  you 
know  the  result.  Men  who  saw  him  say 
that  when  this  official  saw  us  make  the 
charge  he  turned  his  back  upon  us  and  wept." 

One  of  the  men,  in  answering  a  question 
as  to  the  equipment  of  the  Spaniards  and 
Americans,  spoke  of  the  difference  between 
Springfield,  Krag-Jorgensen,  and  Mauser 
rifles,  and  incidentally  gave  a  bit  of  interest 
ing  fact. 

"  We  were  near  the  Seventy-first  New 
York,"  he  said,  "  who  were  at  a  great  dis 
advantage,  owing  to  the  fact  that  they  were 
fighting  with  the  old  Springfield  rifle — '  old 
smoke  guns,'  we  call  them.  Every  time 
they  fire  a  volley  the  Spaniards,  by  the 
volume  of  smoke  from  their  guns,  could 
easily  locate  the  American  shooters.  And 
how  the  Mauser  bullets  were  flying  and 
doing  execution  among  the  members  of  the 
seventy-first !  However,  we  took  advantage 
of  this,  and  under  cover  of  the  smoke  from 
these  old  smoke  guns,  upon  which  the 
Spaniards  had  concentrated  their  fire,  we 
were  able,  without  attracting  much  attention, 
to  creep  almost  upon  the  Spanish  works 
before  drawing  their  fire." 

The  Colored  Soldier. 

One  of  our  poets  has  paid  a  glowing 
tribute  to  the  colored  troops  who  fought  so 
bravely  in  Cuba.  Here  it  is  : 

Y\7"E  used  to  think  the  colored  man  didn't  count 

for  much — 
Light-fingered    in    the    melon   patch  and    chicken 

yard,  and  such  ; 
Much  mixed  in  point  of  morals  and  absurd  in  point 

of  dress, 
The  butt  of  droll  cartoonists  and  the  target  of  the 

press  ; 

But  we've  got  to  reconstruct  our  views  on   color^ 
more  or  less, 

Now    we    know    about    the  Tenth    at 
La  Quasi  na. 


Vlll 


HEROISM    OF   THE   COLORED    SOLDIERS. 


When  a  rain  of  shot  was  falling,  with  a  song  upon 

his  lips, 
In  the  horror  where  such  gallant  lives  went  out  in 

death's  eclipse, 
Face  to  face  with  Spanish  bullets,  on  the  slope  of 

San  Juan, 
The   colored   soldier   showed  himself  another  type 

of  man  ; 
Read  the  story   of  his  courage,  coldly,    carelessly, 

who  can — 

The  story  of  the  Tenth  at  La  Quasina  ! 

We  have  heaped  the  Cuban  soil  above  their  bodies, 

black  and  white — 
The  strangely  sorted  comrades   of  that   grand  and 

glorious  fight — 
And  many  a  fair-skinned  volunteer  goes  whole  and 

sound  to-day 
For  the  succor  of    the   colored   troops,    the   battle 

records  say, 
And  the  feud  is  done  forever,  of  the  blue  coat  and 

the  gray — 

All  honor  to  the  Tenth  at  La  Quasina  ! 
B.  M.  CHANNING. 

The  grand  qualities  that  make  up  our 
colored  heroes  are  brought  out  vividly  in  a 
story  told  concerning  General  Wheeler,  Com 
mander  of  Cavalry  at  Santiago  : 

"  Send  Me  the  Man." 

When  the  American  line  had  fought  its 
way  to  the  top  of  the  hills  at  El  Paso  and 
San  Juan  and  Caney,  General  Wheeler  issued 
an  order  that  every  command  should  dig 
trenches  in  preparation  for  the  conflict  that 
he  knew  would  break  out  again  in  the  morn- 
iig.  But  the  soldiers  had  thrown  away 
nost  of  their  trenching  tools  during  the 
fierce  rifle  charges,  and  as  darkness  fell  upon 
the  scene  of  battle  they  threw  themselves 
upon  the  ground  and  went  to  sleep  from 
sheer  exhaustion.  Adjutant  Hood,  of  the 
Rough  Riders,  noting  this  condition  of 
affairs,  rode  over  to  General  Wheeler's  tent 
and  informed  the  good  old  veteran  that  the 
men  were  played  out.  Wheeler  at  the  time 
was  lying  upon  his  cot  more  dead  than 
alive,  but  there  was  a  smile  upon  his  lips, 


and  his  never-failing  good  humor  twinkled 
in  his  eyes,  when  Adjutant  Hood  said  : 

"  General,  I  am  afraid  our  men  can't  dig 
the  trenches  ?  " 

"  What  men  ?  "  asked  the  General. 

"  The  cavalry  division,"  said  the  Adjutant. 

General  Wheeler  sat  up  in  bed  and  began 
pulling  on  his  boots. 

"  Send  me  the  man,"  he  directed. 

"  What  man?"  asked  the  Adjutant. 

"  The  man  who  can't  dig  trenches." 

"  But  it  is  not  one  man  ;  it  is  many  men. 
They  are  just  played  out." 

"  But  you  can  surely  find  one  man  who 
says  he  can't  dig  the  trench.  I  only  want 
one.  Go  get  him  and  bring  him  to  me." 

"  But  there  are " 

"  I  don't  care  how  many  there  are,  go  get 
me  one." 

Wheeler  and  the  Trooper. 

The  Adjutant  had  never  faced  such  a 
man  as  Wheeler  before,  and  he  did  not 
know  just  what  to  make  of  the  conversation. 
The  little  old  General  was  as  smooth  and 
suave  and  courteous  as  could  be,  and  Hood 
had  nothing  to  do  but  to  ride  back  to  the 
line.  In  some  way  he  managed  to  round 
up  a  colored  trooper  belonging  to  the  Ninth 
Cavalry,  and  brought  him  back  to  the  divi 
sion  headquarters.  He  stood  looking  sheep 
ishly  at  the  ground,  when  Wheeler  addressed 
him. 

"  Are  you  the  man  who  says  he  can't  dig 
these  trenches?"  asked  the  General. 

The  negro's  feet  shuffled  uneasily  in  the 
ground. 

"  I'se  one  of  'em,  but  there's  a " 

The  General  stopped  him,  and  walked  out 
of  his  tent. 

"  You  can  go  to  sleep  now,  my  man,  and 
I'll  go  up  and  dig  your  trench  for  you. 
When  the  sun  comes  up  to-morrow  morn- 


HEROISM    OF   THE    COLORED    SOLDIERS. 


IX 


mg  the  Spaniards  arc  going  to  open  on  us, 
and  every  man  who  isn't  protected  is  not 
only  in  danger  of  being  killed,  but  will  be 
unable  to  help  us  maintain  our  own  posi 
tion.  The  trenches  have  to  be  dug,  and  if 
you  are  unable  to  dig  yours  I'll  just  go  out 
and  do  it  for  you.  Where's  your  pick  ?" 

General  "Wheeler  Digging  Trenches. 

With  the  most  business-like  air  in  the 
world  Wheeler  slid  into  his  coat,  and  turned 
toward  the  big  cavalryman.  The  latter's 
eyes  opened  as  he  saw  the  proceedings,  and 
they  began  to  bulge  out  when  the  General 
motioned  to  him  to  lead  the  way  to  his 
camp.  For  half  a  minute  his  voice  stuck  in 
his  throat,  and  then  he  said  : 

"Boss,  you  ain't  fit  to  dig  no  trenches. 
If  they  done  got  to  be  dug,  I'll  just  naturally 
do  it  myself.  I'm  dog  tired,  but  that  ain't 
work  for  you." 

Wheeler  stopped  and  looked  at  the  man 
with  a  flicker  of  amusement  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  know  it  isn't  work  for  me  to  do,"  he 
said,  but  I'm  going  to  need  soldiers  in  the 
morning,  and  I'm  going  to  save  your  life,  if 
possible.  Do  you  think  now  that  you  can 
dig  the  trench  ?  " 

The  negro  started  up  the  hill  without  a 
word.  Then  the  General  turned  to  Adjutant 
Hood,  with  a  voice  as  pleasant  as  sunshine 
in  May. 

"  He  seems  to  have  changed  his  mind," 
he  said.  "  Now  you  go  find  me  another 
man  who  can't  dig  the  trenches." 

The  Adjutant  bowed  and  rode  off.  He 
never  came  back.  In  the  morning  the 
trenches  were  dug. 

General  Wheeler  was  the  right  kind  of 
commander.  He  never  asked  of  his  soldiers 
what  he  was  unwilling  to  do  himself.  He 
was  ready  to  share  all  their  hardships.  He 
never  said  "  Go  ;  "  it  was  always  "  Come — 


come  on — I'll  lead."  He  knew  how  to 
arouse  the  fighting  spirit  of  his  troops. 
He  did  not  lag  in  the  rear  behind  the 
firing  line.  The  colored  troopers  were 
always  ready  to  follow  a  leader  who  was  so 
brave  and  was  never  inclined  to  shrink  from 
danger. 

Tenth  United  States  Cavalry  at  the  Battle 
of  Santiago. 

Through  the  courtesy  of  the  Christian 
Recorder,  published  at  Philadelphia  for  the 
African  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  we  are 
enabled  to  furnish  a  most  interesting  account 
of  the  Tenth  United  States  Cavalry,  who  did 
such  heroic  work  at  the  battle  of  Santiago. 
This  account  is  from  the  pen  of  Rev.  William 
T.  Anderson,  Chaplain  of  the  regiment,  and 
is  as  follows  : 

"  I  have  been  to  Cuba,  shared  the  hard 
ships  with  the  rest  of  the  boys,  and  like  the 
other  regulars  have  not  complained,  al 
though  greatly  afflicted  while  there,  and 
returned  to  this  country  very  much  unlike 
my  former  self. 

"  On  arriving  at  Montauk,  L.  I.,  on  our 
return  from  Santiago,  I  was  in  the  hospital, 
and  owing  to  my  affliction — rheumatism — I 
was  ordered  home  on  a  thirty  days'  sick 
leave.  I  went  to  Cleveland,  O.,  to  the  home 
of  my  brother-in-law,  where  my  wife  was 
stopping,  and  during  my  entire  leave  I  was 
under  the  care  of  two  excellent  physicians 
whose  skillful  treatment  had  me  in  condition 
to  join  my  regiment  at  the  expiration  of  my 
leave,  although  not  by  any  means  a  well 
man. 

"  So  much  has  been  written  concerning 
our  regiment  that  it  seems  as  if  nothing 
more  can  be  said  about  the  Tenth  United 
States  Cavalry  ;  but  not  half  has  yet  been 
told  concerning  the  boys  whom  I  claim  fully 
as  my  own.  Although  the  principal  part  of 


HEROISM   OF  THE   COLORED   SOLDIERS. 


the  fighting  was  over  when  I  reached  Cuba, 
as  the  steamer  Gussie  was  long  overdue 
when  we  steamed  into  the  harbor  of  Santi 
ago,  I  was  enabled  to  assist  our  boys  in 
many  ways  until  I  was  stricken  myself  on 
the  3d  of  August. 

'  A  Soldier's  Burial. 

"  I  was  kept  busy  administering  to  the 
sick,  burying  the  dead  and  comforting  the 
lonely  and  downhearted  in  this  strange  land. 
My  first  general  service  was  for  an  artillery 
man  (white),  who  through  despondency  took 
his  own  life  while  on  guard  at  10  o'clock  at 
night.  Very  sad,  indeed,  did  this  service 
seem  to  me.  No  mother,  or  sister,  or  rel 
ative  to  shed  a  tear  over  the  remains  of  a 
a  life  so  quickly  spent.  Comrades  stood 
mutely  by  as  the  solemn  words  were  spoken, 
'  earth  to  earth.' 

"  Not  the  sound  of  the  clods  on  the  coffin 
box  did  we  hear,  but  the  dull  thud  of  the 
clods  on  the  body  from  whence  the  soul  had 
taken  its  flight  fell  on  our  ears  with  a  sick 
ening  sound  impossible  for  us  ever  to  forget. 

' '  '  No  useless  coffin  enclosed  his  breast 

Not  in  sheet  or  in  shroud  we  wound  him  ; 
But  he  lay  like  a  warrior  taking  his  rest, 
With  his  martial  cloak  around  him. ' 

"  Simply  wrapped  in  his  army  blanket  we 
laid  him  to  sleep  until  the  awakening  morn. 
As  far  as  I  have  any  knowledge,  ours  was 
the  only  regiment  to  give  a  full  military 
burial.  For  our  boys  who  succumbed  to 
the  inevitable  in  Cuba  and  at  Montauk,  our 
commanding  officer  had  constructed  some 
kind  of  a  coffin  out  of  such  material  as  could 
be  obtained,  and  officers  and  men  turned  out 
in  full  to  follow  the  remains  to  the  last  rest 
ing  place,  thus  showing  the  love  that  our 
white  officers  have  for  our  boys. 

"  The  funeral  of  a  soldier  is  sad.  Dead 
away  from  home — mother,  father,  sister  and 


brother  may  look  for  his  return,  but  in  vairt. 
Perhaps  a  word  or  a  token  of  love  has  been 
left  for  some  loved  one.  With  a  lack  of 
woman's  nursing  and  a  dearth  of  woman's 
tears  he  has  crossed  the  river  that  divides 
the  celestial  from  the  earthly.  '  The  muffled 
drum's  sad  roll  has  beat  the  soldier's  last 
tattoo.'  With  slow  and  solemn  steps,  offi 
cers  and  comrades  accompany  the  lifeless 
body  to  the  city  of  the  dead.  The  last  sad 
rites  are  administered ;  taps  are  sounded ; 
we  turn  our  faces  back  to  camp,  and  leave 
our  dead  alone  to  await  the  grand  reveille 
that  has  not  yet  been  the  power  of  man  to 
sound.  But  enough,  the  very  thought  of 
this,  my  first  burial  on  the  field,  makes  me 
shudder. 

Only  Colored  Chaplain. 

"  Some  very  impressive  services  were  held 
in  front  of  Santiago.  I  was  the  only  colored 
chaplain  in  Cuba,  and  not  only  our  boys,  but 
the  white  soldiers  as  well  sought  my  counsel 
and  asked  for  prayer.  Truly,  if  a  chaplain 
is  ever  needed  at  any  one  time  more  than 
another,  it  is  on  the  field.  It  is  wonderful 
how  a  word  of  consolation  helps  a  soldier 
when  he  is  lonely  and  low  spirited.  We 
passed  through  some  very  trying  moments 
in  Cuba.  Sometimes  we  were  very  short  of 
rations,  but  officers  and  men  fared  alike. 
No  complaint  came  from  our  regulars,  for 
they  had  learned  how  to  take  what  comes 
as  a  good  soldier,  and  knew  how  to  manage 
when  rations  were  short. 

"A  great  deal  of  sickness  prevailed  in 
camp.  Many  who  went  to  Cuba  never 
returned.  All  that  is  mortal  of  those  brave 
boys  who  fought  so  nobly  silently  sleeps  in 
that  strange  land  until  the  gathering  morn 
ing.  The  Lord  was  wonderfully  kind  *o 
our  regiment,  as  we  had  but  very  few  fatali 
ties  comparatively  speaking,  Our  boys,  with 


HEROISM    OF  Till-    COLORED   SOLDIERS. 


but  few  exceptions,  returned  to  this  country 
in  good  condition. 

"  Our  encampment  at  Montauk  Point,  was 
very  pleasant.  I  was  not  there  long  myself, 
as  I  before  stated;  I  was  away  on  a  sick 
leave.  Chaplains  Stuart  and  Prioleau  joined 
their  regiments  here,  and  you  have  been  told 
i  >f  many  things  concerning  our  services  while 
hey  were  here.  After  their  regiments  had 
been  ordered  to  permanent  posts,  I  had  my 
time  much  employed  conducting  services  for 
other  regiments  (white)  as  well  as  for  my 
own.  In  camp,  at  such  a  time,  a  comrade 
is  a  comrade,  whether  his  face  be  white  or 
black. 

"  We  were  ordered  from  Montauk  to  en 
camp  near  Huntsville.  Ala.  ;  back  to  the 
place  where  but  a  few  years  ago  some  mem 
bers  of  our  regiment  were  under  the  curse  of 
slavery.  From  the  time  that  we  left  Mon 
tauk  we  were  given  great  ovations  at  every 
point.  In  Washington,  D.  C.,  we  stopped 
all  day  Saturday,  October  8th.  We  were 
banquetted  by  the  generous  people  and 
passed  in  review  before  the  President. 

Scarred  Warriors. 

"A  splendid  showing  did  these  sturdy  and 
scarred  warriors  present  as  they  marched  in 
review  before  the  great  Executive  of  the 
nation.  After  leaving  Washington  we  were 
cheered  all  along  the  road.  Louisville,  Ky., 
and  Nashville,  Tenn.,  asked  permission  to 
do  the  honors  that  Washington  did,  but  we 
had  to  forego  that  pleasure ;  yet,  we  were 
permitted  to  stop  two  hours  in  each  place. 
Lunch  counters  were  open  to  our  boys  all 
i  along  the  road,  for  they  had  made  for  them 
selves  an  enviable  record,  and  they  were 
prepared  to  maintain  what  they  had  so  fear 
lessly  won. 

"  Our  landing  at  Huntsville  was  accom 
panied  with  a  little  unpleasant  incident ;  but, 


as  heretofore,  the  Tenth  boys  came  out  best, 
and  have  been  b.est  ever  since.  As  soon  as 
our  boys  arrived  here  they  were  set  upon  by 
the  provost  guard,  a  detachment  of  the  Six 
teenth  Infantry,  in  an  unsoldierly  manner  for 
some  trivial  offence.  Our  boys  defended 
themselves,  and  in  so  doing  killed  one  of 
the  guards  (a  corporal)  and  wounded  four 
others,  three  of  whom  have  died  since.  Two 
boys  of  the  Tenth  were  wounded,  but  at 
present  they  are  up  and  nearly  recovered. 
The  local  papers  published  it  otherwise,  but 
I  give  you  the  facts  as  they  are.  The  people 
here  know  that  the  Tenth  United  States  Cav 
alry  is  encamped  near  the  city,  and  they  will 
be  good,  for  the  time  being,  any  way. 

At  the  Peace  Jubilee. 

"  We  shall  ever  feel  grateful  to  the  good 
people  of  Philadelphia  for  the  interest  shown 
in  us  in  making  it  possible  for  us  to  take 
part  in  the  Peace  Jubilee  parade.  No  dis 
tinction  was  made  on  account  of  color  in  the 
Quaker  City.  Dr.  Brown  and  myself  shared 
the  hospitalities  of  the  Gladstone  along  with 
the  other  officers.  Our  boys  were  comfort 
ably  quartered  and  bountifully  feasted  in  the 
parish  house  of  the  Church  of  the  Cruci 
fixion.  The  heroes  of  Santiago  were  be 
sieged  with  callers  and  interested  friends,  all 
eager  to  have  us  tell  of  our  experience  in 
Cuba. 

"The  Tenth  owes  much  to  the  good 
people  of  Philadelphia,  and  especially  Mr. 
Clarence  B.  Moore,  who  has  been  a  source 
of  much  pleasure  to  our  regiment  by  his 
generous  gifts.  While  in  Cuba  he  offered 
me  anything  that  I  might  request  for  my 
boys,  saying  that  the  good  people  of  Phila 
delphia  had  money  to  burn  for  the  Tenth 
Cavalry.  Of  his  own  volition  he  sent  us  so 
many  things  that  modesty  forbade  me  to 
make  too  large  a  request,  for  fear  he  .might 


HEROISM   OF   THE   COLORED   SOLDIERS. 


think  me  greedy  or  imposing  upon  his  gen 
erosity. 

"  Then,  too,  we  felt  that  his  kindness  and 
friendship  would  wear  better  by  us  not  bur 
dening  him  with  requests.  While  at  home 
sick  this  summer  he  kept  me  supplied  with 
reading  matter,  and  wrote  three  and  four 
Limes  a  week  to  know  of  my  condition.  It 
was  my  great  pleasure  to  meet  him  while 
attending  the  Peace  Jubilee,  and  I  found  him 
to  be  all  that  the  word  gentleman  implies. 

"  Our  trip  to  Philadelphia  was  void  of  any 
unpleasantness  save  when  we  stopped  at 
Knoxville,  Tenn.,  for  luncheon.  We  (Dr. 
Brown  and  myself)  were  refused  to  be  served, 
and  when  our  fellow-officers  found  out  that 
the  proprietor  would  not  serve  us  they  refused 
to  eat,  and  would  not  eat  where  we  could 
not.  Not  much  has  been  said  concerning 
the  valorous  boys  of  the  Tenth  previous  to 
the  recent  war,  but  they  have  won  for  them 
selves  such  a  brilliant  record  before  Santiago 
that  proper  thinking  and  unselfish  people  are 
compelled  to  doff  their  hats  as  the  gallant 
black  boys  of  the  Tenth  passed  by  .keeping 


step  with  '  We'll  rally  'round  the  Flag,  boys ;' 
or  better  still,  keeping  step  with  every  pulsa 
tion  of  patriotism  that  throbs  within  their 
manly  breasts.  Truly,  they  are  the  superb 
soldiers. 

"  We  cannot  afford  to  be  selfish.  The 
Ninth  Cavalry,  Twenty-fourth  and  Twenty- 
fifth  Infantry  have  made  a  record  that  should 
call  forth  the  gratefulness  of  every  race- 
loving  woman  and  child  in  this  broad  land 
of  ours.  True,  the  way  seems  dark  at 
times ;  but  we  must  remember  that  the 
heavens  were  dark  just  before  the  veil  was 
rent  in  twain.  The  silver  lining  of  a  heavy 
cloud  is  almost  visible.  These  black  boys 
have  done  for  our  people  what  could  not 
have  been  done  otherwise.  It  shall  forever 
be  said,  concerning  the  colored  soldier,  that 
there  was  not  found  a  faint  heart  among 
them. 

"  With  best  wishes  for  the  Church's  pros 
perity,  WM.  T.  ANDERSON, 

"Chaplain  Tenth  U.  S.  Cavalry. 

"  Huntsville,  Ala." 


THE  PROPER  CONDUCT  OF  IJFE 

THE   ART    OF    PLEASING 
Ti)e  True  Lady  ar>d  Ttje  True  Ger)bleir)av 


CHAPTER  I. 

Manners  Make  the  Man.1 


MANNERS  are  so  important 
that  the  world  has  long  had  the  pro 
verb  that  "  Manners  Make  the  Man." 
A  person  may  be  highly  gifted  and  well 
educated,  yet  if  destitute  of  the  art  of  pleas 
ing,  all  other  accomplishments  will  be  of 
little  account.  Success  in  life  depends  much 
Upon  appearance  and  deportment. 

According  to  Swift,  good  manners  are  the 
art  of  making  those  people  with  whom  we 
converse  feel  at  ease.  Persons  of  refinement 
and  generous  impulses  always  endeavor  to 
render  themselves  agreeable  to  those  in  whose 
company  they  are  destined  to  travel  in  the 
journey  of  life.  They  are  no  more  eager  to 
gain  pleasure  for  themselves,  than  to  bestow 
it  upon  others. 

The  art  of  pleasing  is  so  simple,  that  it 
requires  nothing  more  than  ^he  constant  de 
sire  to  please  in  all  our  words  and  actions ; 
and  the  practice  of  it  can  neither  wound  a 
man's  esteem,  nor  be  prejudicial  to  his  wel 
fare  in  ?ny  possible  situation. 

Though  this  be  true,  it  is  frequently  the 
case  that  but  little  attention  is  paid  to  the 
art  of  pleasing.  Each  individual  is  so  zeal 
ous  to  promote  his  own  pleasure  as  to  be 
liable  to  forget  that  his  neighbor  has  claims 

equal  to  his  own.     Every  man  who  enters 

a 


into  society  gives  up,  for  the  time,  many  of 
his  peculiar  rights,  and  forms  part  of  an 
association  met  together,  not  for  the  particu 
lar  gratification  of  any  one,  but  for  the 
pleasure  of  the  whole  company. 

All  the  elements  which  form  a  good  and 
attractive  character  are  essential  to  the  art 
of  pleasing.  In  business  affairs,  we  delight 
to  deal  with  men  in  whom  we  can  place 
confidence,  and  in  whom  we  find  integ 
rity  ;  truth  is  so  naturally  pleasing  that  we 
derive  great  satisfaction  from  an  honest 
character.  "  Should  you  be  suspected  (says 
Chesterfield)  of  injustice,  malignity,  perfidy, 
lying,  etc.,  all  the  graces  and  knowledge  of 
the  world  will  never  procure  you  esteem, 
friendship  and  respect." 

The  first  of  requisites  in  our  intercourse  with 
the  world,  and  the  chief  in  giving  pleasure 
to  those  with  whom  we  associate,  is  inviol 
able  sincerity  of  heart. 

Acknowledged  sincerity  always  gives  the 
same  ornament  to  character  that  modesty 
does  to  manners.  It  would  abundantly  atone 
for  ridiculous  ceremonies,  or  false  and  un 
meaning  professions;  and  it  would  in  no 
respect  diminish  the  lustre  of  a  noble  bear 
ing,  or  the  perfection  of  an  elegant  address. 

Modesty,    however,    is    not    inconsistent 


18 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


with  firmness  and  dignity  of  character ;  it 
arises  rather  from  the  knowledge  of  our  im 
perfection  compared  with  a  certain  standard, 
than  from  conscious  ignorance  of  what  we 
ought  to  know.  The  well-bred  man  feels 
at  ease  in  all  companies,  is  modest  without 
being  bashful,  and  self-possessed  without 
being  forward. 

A  Well  Stored  Mind. 

A  man  possessing  the  amiable  virtues  is 
still  farther  prepared  to  please,  by  having  in 
his  own  mind  a  perpetual  fund  of  information 
and  entertainment  He  can  easily  conceal 
thoughts  which  it  would  be  in  bad  taste 
to  avow,  and  he  is  not  anxious  to  display 
virtues  which  might  be  distasteful  to  his 
companions. 

To  possess  a  correct  and  enlightened  under 
standing,  and  a  fund  of  rational  knowledge,  is 
a  chief  ingredient  in  the  art  of  pleasing. 
With  modesty  and  tact  we  should  be  able  to 
make  ourselves  agreeable  to  these  with  whom 
we  have  occasion  to  associate. 

The  faculty  of  communicating  ideas  is  pe 
culiar  to  man,  and  the  pleasure  which  he 
derives  from  their  interchange  is  one  of 
the  most  important  of  his  blessings.  Man 
kind  are  formed  with  numberless  wants,  and 
with  a  mutual  power  of  assisting  each  other. 
It  is  a  beautiful  and  happy  part  of  the  same 
perfect  plan,  that  they  are  likewise  formed  to 
delight  in  each  other's  company,  and  in  the 
mutual  interchange  of  their  thoughts. 

The  different  species  of  communication,  in 
a  highly  polished  age,  are  as  numerous  as  the 
different  ranks,  employments  and  occupa 
tions  of  men;  and  indeed  the  knowledge 
which  men  wish  to  communicate  often  takes 
its  tinge  from  their  peculiar  professions  or 
Occupations. 

Adapt  Yourself  to  Your  Company. 

Thus  commercial  men  delight  to  talk  of 
their  trade,  and  of  business  affairs ;  men  of 


pleasure,  who  wish  merely  to  vary  or  quicken 
their  amusements,  are  in  conversation  light, 
trifling,  and  insincere;  and  the  literati  de 
light  to  dwell  on  new  books,  learned  mei\ 
and  important  discoveries  in  science  and  arts 
But  as  the  different  classes  of  men  will  fre* 
quently  meet  together,  all  parties  must  sc 
act,  as  to  combine  the  useful  and  agreeable, 
and  thereby  be  able  to  give  the  greaUat 
pleasure  to  their  associates. 

Attention  to  these  principles  will  enable 
the  man  of  pleasure  and  the  man  of  learn 
ing  to  derive  mutual  advantage  from  their 
different  qualifications.  With  due  attention 
to  such  ideas,  we  proceed  to  mention  the 
kinds  of  knowledge  which  are  most  fitted 
for  conversation.  Those  who  wish  to  please 
should  particularly  endeavor  to  be  informed 
on  subjects  most  generally  mentioned.  An 
accurate  or  extensive  knowledge  on  learned 
subjects  is  by  no  means  sufficient ;  we  must 
also  have  an  extensive  knowledge  of  the  com 
mon  occurrences  of  life. 

Value  of  Practical  Knowledge. 

It  is  the  knowledge  of  mankind,  of  govern 
ments,  of  history,  of  public  characters,  and  of 
the  springs  which,  put  the  great  and  the  little 
actions  of  the  world  in  motion,  which  gives 
real  pleasure  and  rational  instruction.  The 
knowledge  which  we  communicate  must  in 
some  shape  be  interesting  to  those  to  whom 
we  communicate  it.  It  should  also  be  of 
such  importance,  as  to  elevate  the  thoughts' 
somewhat  above  the  actions  of  the  narrow 
circle  formed  in  our  own  immediate  neigh 
borhood. 

On  this  account  it  is  recommended  by  an 
author  who  fully  knew  mankind,  as  a  maxim 
of  great  importance  in  the  art  of  pleasing,  to 
be  acquainted  with  the  private  character  of 
those  men,  who,  from  their  station  or  their 
actions,  are  making  their  mark  in  the  world. 
We  naturally  wish  to  see  such  men  in  their 


MANNERS  MAKE  THE  MAN." 


retired  and  undisguised  moments;  and  he 
who  can  gratify  us  is  highly  acceptable. 
History  of  all  kinds,  fitly  introduced,  and  occa 
sionally  embellished  with  pleasing  anecdotes, 
fe  an  important  part  of  our  entertainment  in 
the  intercourse  of  life.  This  is  imparting  in 
struction,  without  exciting  much  envy;  it 
depends  on  memory,  and  memory  is  one  of 
those  talents  the  possession  of  which  we  least 
grudge  to  our  neighbor. 

Knowledge  of  Human  Nature. 

Our  knowledge  of  history,  at  the  same 
time,  must  not  appear  in  long  and  tedious 
details;  but  in  apt  and  well-chosen  allusions, 
calculated  to  illustrate  the  particular  subject 
of  conversation.  But  the  knowledge  most 
necessary  is  that  of  the  human  heart  This 
is  acquired  by  constant  observation  of  the 
manners  and  maxims  of  the  world,  connect 
ed  with  that  which  passes  in  our  own  minds. 
This  leads  us  from  the  common  details  of 
conduct,  from  slander  and  defamation,  to  the 
sources  and  principles  of  action,  and  enables 
us  to  enter  into  what  may  be  called  the  phil 
osophy  of  conversation. 

By  this  means  constant  materials  are  sup 
plied  for  free,  easy,  and  spirited  communica 
tion.  The  restraints  which  are  imposed  on 
mankind,  either  from  what  their  own  charac 
ter  may  suffer,  or  from  the  apprehension  of 
giving  offense  to  others,  are  entirely  taken 
off,  and  they  have  a  sufficient  quantity  of 
current  coin  for  all  the  common  purposes  of 
life. 

Another  very  important  requisite  in  the  art 
of  pleasing  is  graceful  and  easy  manners.  Lord 
Chesterfield  indeed  considers  these  as  the  most 
essential  and  important  part;  as  if  the  dia 
mond  received  its  whole  value  from  the 
polish.  But  though  he  is  unquestionably 
mistaken,  there  is  yet  a  certain  sweetness  of 
manners  which  is  particularly  engaging  in 
our  intercourse  with  the  world.  This  consti 


tutes  the  character  which  the  French,  undei 
the  appellation  of  I  aimable,  so  much  tali? 
of,  and  so  justly  value. 

A  Winning  Manner. 

This  is  not  so  easily  described  as  felt  It 
is  the  compound  result  of  different  things? 
not  a  servility  of  manners,  but  affability,, 
courtesy,  and  an  air  of  softness  in  the  couii 
tenance,  gesture,  and  expression,  equally 
whether  you  agree  or  disagree  with  the  per  • 
son  you  converse  with.  This  is  particularly 
to  be  studied  when  we  are  obliged  to  refuse 
a  favor  asked  of  us,  or  to  say  what  in  itself 
cannot  be  very  agreeable  to  the  person  to 
whom  we  say  it  It  is  then  the  necessary 
gilding  of  a  disagreeable  pill.  But  this,, 
which  may  be  called  th~  suaviter  i:i  modo^ 
would  degenerate  and  sink  into  a  mean  and 
timid  complaisance  and  passiveness,  if  not 
supported  by  firmness  and  dignity  of  charac 
ter.  Hence  the  Latin  sentence,  suaviter  in 
modo\  fortiter  in  re  (suavity  of  manner,  witb 
firmness  in  acting),  becomes  a  useful  and 
important  maxim  in  life. 

Genuine  easy  manners  result  from  a  con 
stant  attention  to  the  relations  of  persons, 
things,  times,  and  places.  When  we  con 
verse  with  one  greatly  our  superior,  we  are 
to  be  as  easy  and  unembarrassed  as  with  our 
equals;  yet  every  look,  word,  and  action, 
should  imply,  without  any  kind  of  servile 
flattery,  the  greatest  respect  In  mixed  com 
panies,  with  our  equals,  greater  ease  and 
liberty  are  allowed ;  but  they  too  have  their 
proper  limits.  There  is  a  social  respect  neo 
essary.  Our  words,  gestures,  and  attitude^ 
have  a  greater  degree  of  latitude,  though  not 
an  unbounded  one. 

Now,  this  ease  of  carriage  and  behavior 
which  is  exceedingly  engaging,  widely  differs 
from  negligence  and  inattention,  and  by  no 
means  implies  that  one  may  do  whatever  he 
pleases ;  it  only  means  that  one  is  not  to  be 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


stiff,  formal,  or  embarrassed,  disconcerted 
and  diffident ;  but  it  requires  great  attention 
to,  and  a  scrupulous  observation  of,  what 
the  French  call  les  bienfeances;  a  word  which 
implies  "decorum,  good  breeding,  and  pro 
priety."  Whatever  we  ought  to  do,  is  to  be 
done  with  ease  and  unconcern ;  whatever  is 
improper,  must  not  be  done  at  all.  In  mixed 
Companies,  also,  different  ages  and  sexes  are 
to  be  differently  addressed.  Although  we 
-ire  to  be  respectful  toward  all,  old  age  par 
ticularly  requires  to  be  treated  with  a  degree 
-of  deference  and  regard.  It  is  a  good  gen 
eral  rule,  to  accustom  ourselves  to  have  a 
>kind  feeling  to  every  thing  connected  with 
toan;  and  when  this  is  the  case,  we  shall 
^aeldom  err  in  the  application.  The  inward 
'feeling  will  appear  in  the  outward  conduct. 
Do  not  be  Forward. 

Another  important  point  in  decorum  is, 
not  to  thrust  our  own  present  humor  and  dis 
position  indiscriminately  against  everybody, 
but  to  observe  and  adopt  theirs.  And  if  we 
cannot  -find  one  of  similar  humor  and 
disposition,  it  is  necessary  to  single  out  those 
to  converse  with  who  happen  to  be  in  the 
humor  the  nearest  to  our  own.  Peremptori- 
ness  and  conceit,  especially  in  young  peo 
ple,  is  contrary  to  good  breeding:  they 
should  seldom  seem  to  dissent,  and  always 
use  some  softening  mitigating  expression. 

There  is  a  decorum  also  with  regard  to 
people  of  the  lowest  degree;  a  gentleman 
observes  it  with  his  coachman,  and  even 
indeed  with  the  beggar  in  the  street  He 
considers  them  as  objects  of  compassion,  not 
of  insult;  he  speaks  to  neither  in  a  harsh 
tone,  but  corrects  the  one  gently,  and  refuses 
the  other  with  humanity. 

The  following  observations  perhaps  con 
tain  the  sum  of  the  art  of  pleasing : 

i.  A  fixed  and  habitual  resolution  of  en 
deavoring  -to  please  will  seldom  fail  of  effect. 


and  its  effect  will  every  day  become  more 
visible  as  this  habit  increases  in  strength. 

2.  This  resolution  must  be  regulated  by  a 
very  considerable  degree  of  good  sense. 

3.  It  is  a  maxim  of  almost  general  appli 
cation,  that  what  pleases  us  in  another  will 
also  please  others  in  us. 

4.  A  constant  and  habitual  attention  to 
the  different  dispositions  of  mankind,  to  their 
ruling  passions,  and  to  their  peculiar  or  oc 
casional  humors,  is  absolutely  necessary. 

5.  A  man  who  would  please  must  possess 
a  firm,  equal,  and  steady  temper.     And, 

6.  An  easy  and  graceful  manner,  as  dis 
tant  from  bashfulness  on  the  one  hand  as 
from  impudence  on  the  other.     "He  who 
thinks  himself  sure  of  pleasing  (says  Lord 
Chesterfield),  and  he  who  despairs  of  it,  are 
equally  sure  to  fail."     And  he  is  undoubtedly 
right     The  one,  by  his  assuming  vanity,  is 
inattentive  to  the  means  of  pleasing ;  and  the 
other,  from  fear,  is  rendered   incapable  of 
employing  them. 

Necessity  of  Observing-  Etiquette. 

Politeness  is  one  of  those  advantages 
which  we  never  estimate  rightly  but  by  the 
inconvenience  of  its  loss.  Its  influence  upon 
the  manners  is  constant  and  uniform,  so  that, 
like  an  equal  motion,  it  escapes  perception. 
Yet  the  difference  between  a  polite  person 
and  one  who  is  impolite  is  very  marked, 
Those  who  do  not  possess  good  breeding  are 
not  apt  to  understand  its  importance  and 
worth. 

But  as  sickness  shows  us  the  value  of  ease^ 
a  little  familiarity  with  those  who  were  never 
taught  to  contribute  to  the  gratification  oi 
others,  but  regulate  their  behavior  merely  by 
their  own  will,  will  soon  evince  the  necessity 
of  established  modes  and  formalities  to  the 
happiness  and  quiet  of  common  life. 

Wisdom  and  virtue  are  by  no  means  suffi 
cient.  without  the  supplemental  laws  of  good 


"  MANNERS  MAKE  THE  MAN." 


21 


breeding,  to  secure  freedom  from  degenera 
ting  into  rudeness,  or  self-esteem  from  swell 
ing  into  insolence ;  a  thousand  incivilities  may 
be  committed,  and  a  thousand  offices  neg 
lected,  without  any  remorse  of  conscience, 
or  reproach  from  reason. 

The  true  effect  of  genuine  politeness  seems 
to  be  ease  and  hence  pleasure.  The  power 
of  delighting  must  be  conferred  by  nature, 
and  cannot  be  delivered  by  precept,  or  ob 
tained  by  imitation ;  but  though  it  be  the 
privilege  of  a  very  small  number  to  ravish  and 
to  charm,  all  persons  may  hope  by  rules  and 
caution  not  to  give  offence,  and  may,  there 
fore,  by  the  help  of  good-breeding,  enjoy  the 
kindness  of  their  fellows,  though  they  should 
have  no  claim  to  higher  distinction. 

Keep  Self  in  the  Background. 

The  universal  axiom  from  which  flow  all 
the  formalities  which  custom  has  established 
in  civilized  nations  is,  That  no  man  shall  give 
any  preference  to  himself- — a  rule  so  com 
prehensive  that,  perhaps,  it  is  not  easy  for  the 
mind  to  imagine  an  incivility,  without  sup 
posing  this  rule  to  be  broken. 

There  are,  indeed,  in  every  place,  some 
particular  modes  of  the  ceremonial  part  of 
good-breeding,  which  being  arbitrary  and 
accidental,  can  be  learned  only  by  residence 
and  conversation;  such  are  the  forms  of 
salutation,  the  different  gradations  of  rever 
ence,  and  all  the  adjustments  of  place  and 
precedence.  These,  however,  may  be  often 
violated  without  offence,  if  it  be  sufficiently 
evident,  that  neither  malice  nor  pride  con 
tributed  to  the  failure ;  but  will  not  atone, 
however  rigidly  observed,  for  insolence,  or 
petulance. 

I  have,  indeed,  not  found  among  any  part 
of  mankind,  less  real  and  rational  good-breed 
ing,  than  among  those  who  have  passed  their 
time  in  paying  and  receiving  visits,  in  frequent 
ing  public  entertainments,  in  studying-  the 


exact  measures  of  ceremony,  and  in  watching 
all  the  variations  of  fashionable  courtesy. 

They  know,  indeed,  at  what  hour  they  may 
be  at  the  door  of  an  acquaintance,  how  many 
steps  they  must  attend  him  towards  the  gate,:' 
and  what  interval  should  pass  before  his 
visit  is  returned ;  but  seldom  extend  their 
care  beyond  the  exterior  and  unessential  parts 
of  civility,  nor  refuse  their  own  vanity  any 
gratification,  however  expensive  to  the  quiet 
of  another. 

To  love  all  men  is  our  duty,  so  far  as 
it  includes  a  general  habit  of  benevolence, 
and  readiness  for  occasional  kindness ;  but  to 
love  all  equally  is  impossible ;  at  least  impos 
sible  without  the  extinction  of  those  passions 
which  now  produce  all  our  pains  and  all  our 
pleasures,  and  without  the  disuse,  if  not  the 
abolition,  of  some  of  our  faculties,  and  the 
suppression  of  all  our  hopes  and  fears  in 
apathy  and  indifference. 

The  necessities  of  our  condition  require  a 
thousand  offices  of  tenderness,  which  mere, 
regard  for  the  species  will  never  dictate. 
Every  man  has  frequent  grievances  which 
only  the  solicitude  of  friendship  will  discover 
and  remedy,  and  which  would  remain  for 
ever  unheeded  in  the  mighty  mass  of  human 
calamity,  were  it  only  surveyed  by  the  eye  of 
general  benevolence,  equally  attentive  to  every 
misery. 

Always  be  in  a  Good  Humor. 

Good-humor  may  be  defined  a  habit  of 
being  pleased ;  a  constant  and  perennial  soft 
ness  of  manner,  easiness  of  approach,  and 
suavity  of  disposition ;  like  that  which  every 
man  perceives  in  himself,  when  the  first, 
transports  of  new  felicity  have  subsided,  and 
his  thoughts  are  only  kept  in  motion  by  a 
slow  succession  of  soft  impulses.  Good 
humor  is  a  state  between  gaiety  and  tmeoa* 
cern,  the  act  or  emanation  of  a  mind  at  leisr . 
ure  to  regard  the  gratification  of  another 


KCJLES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


It  is  imagined  by  many,  that  whenever 
they  aspire  to  please,  they  are  required  to  be 
merry,  and  to  show  the  gladness  of  their 
souls  by  flights  of  pleasantry,  and  bursts  of 
laughter.  But  though  these  men  may  be 
for  a  time  heard  with  applause  and  admira 
tion,  they  seldom  delight  us  long.  We  enjoy 
them  a  little,  and  then  retire  to  easiness  and 
good  humor,  as  the  eye  gazes  awhile  on  an 
eminence  glittering  with  the  sun,  but  soon 
turns  achiag  away  to  verdure  and  flowers. 

Gaiety  is  to  good  humor  as  animal  per 
fumes  to  vegetable  fragrance ;  the  one  over 
powers  weak  spirits,  and  the  other  recreates 
and  revives  them.  Gaiety  seldom  fails  to 
give  some  disgust;  the  hearers  either  strain 
their  faculties  to  accompany  its  outbursts,  or 
are  left  behind  in  envy  and  despair.  Good 
humor  boasts  no  faculties  which  every  one 
does  not  believe  to  be  in  his  own  power,  and 
pleases  principally  by  not  offending. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  most  certain  way 
to  give  any  man  pleasure  is  to  persuade  him 
that  you  receive  pleasure  from  him,  to  en 
courage  him  to  freedom  and  confidence,  and 
to  avoid  any  such  appearance  of  superiority 
as  may  overbear  and  depress  him.  We  see 
many  that  by  this  art  only,  spend  their  days 
in  the  midst  of  caresses,  invitations,  and 
civilities;  and  without  any  extraordinary 
qualities  or  attainments,  are  the  universal 
favorites  of  both  sexes,  and  certainly  find  a 
friend  in  every  place.  The  darlings  and 
favorites  of  the  world  are  generally  those  who 
excite  neither  jealousy  nor  fear,  and  are 
not  considered  as  candidates  for  any  eminent 
degree  of  reputation,  but  content  themselves 
with  common  accomplishments,  and  en 


deavor  rather  to  solicit  good  will  than  to  raise 
esteem ;  therefore,  in  assemblies  and  places  of 
resort,  it  seldom  fails  to  happen,  that  though 
at  the  entrance  of  some  particular  person, 
every  face  brightens  with  gladness,  and  every 
hand  is  extended  in  salutation,  yet  if  you 
pursue  him  beyond  the  first  exchange  oi 
civilities,  you  will  find  him  of  only  ordinary 
importance,  and  welcome  to  the  company 
as  one  by  whom  all  conceive  themselves 
admired,  and  with  whom  any  one  is  at 
liberty  to  amuse  himself  when  he  can  find 
no  other  auditor  or  companion.  He  can 
place  all  at  ease  if  he  will  hear  a  jest  with 
out  criticism,  and  a  narrative  without  con 
tradiction,  laugh  at  every  wit,  and  yield  to 
every  disputer. 

There  are  many  whose  vanity  always  in 
clines  them  to  associate  with  those  from 
whom  they  have  no  reason  to  fear  mortifica 
tion  ;  and  there  are  times  in  which  the  wise 
and  the  knowing  are  willing  to  receive  praise 
without  the  labor  of  deserving  it.  They  are 
pleased  with  the  appreciation  bestowed  by 
others  when  no  great  effort  is  made  to  obtain 
it  All  therefore  are  at  some  hour  or  another 
fond  of  companions  whom  they  can  entertain 
upon  easy  terms,  and  who  will  relieve  them 
from  solitude,  without  condemning  them  to 
vigilance  and  caution.  We  are  most  inclined 
to  love  when  we  have  nothing  to  fear,  and  he 
that  encourages  us  to  please  ourselves,  will  not 
be  long  without  preference  in  our  affection  to 
those  whose  learning  holds  us  at  the  distance 
of  pupils,  or  whose  wit  calls  all  attention  from 
us,  and  leaves  us  without  importance  and 
without  regard.  We  dislike  to  be  placed  i» 
such  unpleasant  contrast  with  others. 


CHAPTER  IL 

The  True  Lady. 


tf  AGREEABLE,  modest,  and  digni 
fied  bearing  is,  in  the  younger  period 
of  a  woman's  existence,  almost  like 
&  dower  to  her.  Whatever  may  be  the  tran 
sient  craze  and  fashion  of  the  day,  that  which 
is  amiable,  graceful,  and  true  in  taste,  will 
always  please  the  majority  of  the  world.  A 
young  lady,  properly  so  called,  should  not 
require  to  have  allowances  made  for  her. 
Well  brought  up,  her  address  should  be 
polite  and  gentle,  and  it  will,  soon  after  her 
introduction  to  society,  become  easy  "  to  be 
civil  with  ease." 

On  first  being  introduced  to  any  stranger, 
there  is  no  insincerity  in  the  display  of  a 
certain  pleasure.  We  are  advised  by  Wil- 
berforce  to  give  our  good-will,  at  first,  on 
leasehold.  To  the  elder,  a  deferential  bow 
marks  the  well  brought  up  girl.  She  must 
not  receive  her  new  acquaintance  with  a 
hysteric  laugh,  such  as  I  have  seen  whole 
families  prone  to;  neither  must  she  look 
heavy,  draw  down  her  mouth,  and  appear  as 
if  she  did  not  care  for  her  new  acquaintance ; 
nor  must  she  look  at  once  over  the  dress 
of  the  person  introduced  as  if  taking  an  in 
ventory  of  it ;  nor  appear  hurried,  as  if  glad 
to  get  away  on  the  first  break  in  the  conver 
sation.  She  must  give  due  attention,  or 
reasonable  time  to  perfect  the  introduction, 
to  a  certain  extent  Volubility  is  to  be 
Avoided;  to  overpower  with  a  volley  of 
words  is  more  cruel  than  kind;  the  words 
Should  be  gently  spoken,  not  drawled,  and 
the  voice  loud  enough  to  be  caught  easily, 
but  always  in  an  undertone  to  the  power  of 
Voice  allotted  by  nature. 


Some  persons  appear  to  go  to  the 
extreme,  and  deafen  you ;  they  may  speak  thfl 
words  of  wisdom,  but  you  wish  them  dumlx 
Others  mumble  so  that  you  are  forced  con 
tinually  to  express  your  total  inability  to 
follow  the  drift  of  their  remarks;  others 
drawl  so  that  you  feel  that  life  is  not  long 
enough  for  such  acquaintance.  All  tb^se 
are  habits  to  be  conquered  in  youth. 
Be  Natural. 

Avoid,  especially,  affectation.  It  was  once 
in  fashion.  Some  ladies  put  it  on  with  theil 
dresses ;  others,  by  a  long  practice,  were  suc 
cessful  in  making  it  habitual.  It  became 
what  was  called  their  manner.  Sophia  has 
a  manner;  it  is  not  affectation ,  "it  is  her 
manner,  only  manner."  Affectation  has  long 
ceased  to  be  the  fashion,  and  like  many  other 
bygone  peculiarities,  one  sees  it  only  in  vulgar 
society. 

There  is  d  way  also  of  looking  that  must 
be  regulated.  The  audacious  stare  is  odious j 
the  sly,  oblique,  impenetrable  look  is  unsatis 
factory.  Softly  and  kindly  should  the  eyes 
be  raised  to  those  'of  the  speaker,  and  only 
withdrawn  when  the  speech,  whatever  it  may 
be,  is  concluded.  Immediate  intimacy  and  a 
familiar  manner  are  worse  than  the  glum  look 
with  which  some  young  ladies  have  a  habit  of 
regarding  their  fellow  mortals.  There  is  also 
a  certain  dignity  of  manners  necessary  to 
make  even  the  most  superior  persons  I* 
spected.  This  dignity  can  hardly  be  as 
sumed  ;  it  cannot  be  taught ;  it  must  be  the 
result  of  intrinsic  qualities,  aided  by  a  knowl' 
edge  very  much  overlooked  in  modern  edu 
cation — "the  knowledge  how  to  behave, * 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


tt  is  distinct  from  pretension,  which  is  about 
the  worst  feature  of  bad  manners,  and  creates 
nothing  but  disgust  A  lady  should  be  equal 
to  every  occasion.  Her  politeness,  her  equa 
nimity,  her  presence  of  mind,  should  attend 
her  to  the  court  and  to  the  cottage. 

Be  Amiable. 

Neither  should  private  vexations  be  allowed 
to  act  upon  her  manners,  either  in  her  own 
house  or  in  those  of  others.  If  unfit  for  so 
ciety,  let  her  refrain  from  entering  it.  If  she 
enters  it,  let  her  remember  that  every  one  is 
expected  to  add  something  to  the  general 
stock  of  pleasure  or  improvement.  The 
slight  self-command  required  by  good  society 
is  often  beneficial  both  to  the  temper  and 
spirits. 

One  great  discredit  to  the  present  day  is 
the  "  loud  young  lady."  She  is  the  hoyden 
of  the  old  comedies,  without  the  indelicacy 
of  that  character.  An  avowed  flirt,  she  does 
not  scruple  to  talk  of  her  conquests,  real  or 
imaginary.  You  may  know  her  by  her 
phrases.  She  talks  of  "the  men,"  of  such 
and  such  "a  charmer."  She  does  not  mind, 
but  rather  prefers  sitting  with  "the  men" 
when  they  are  smoking ;  she  "ides  furiously, 
and  plays  billiards.  But  it  is  in  her  marked 
antagonism  to  her  own  sex  that  the  "  loud " 
young  lady  is  perceptible.  She  shuts  up 
her  moral  perceptions,  and  sees  neither 
beauty  nor  talent  in  her  own  sex.  With  all 
this  she  is  often  violently  confident,  and  calls 
all  idiots  who  differ  from  her  in — I  can  scarcely 
say  her  opinions — but  rather  her  prejudices. 

By  degrees,  the  assumption  of  assurance 
which  has  had  its  source  in  bad  taste,  be 
comes  real ;  a  hard,  bold  look,  a  free  tongue, 
and  above  all,  the  latitude  of  manner  shown 
,  to  her  by  the  other  sex,  and  allowed  by  her, 
show  that  the  inward  characteristics  have 
4Hkr..ed  the  outward,  and  that  she  is  become 
jusensible  to  all  that  she  has  lost  of  feminine 


charm,  and  gained  in  effrontery.  For  the 
instant  a  woman  loses  the  true  feminine 
type,  she  parts  from  half  her  influence.  The 
coquette  is  flattered,  admired  openly,  but 
secretly  condemned.  Many  a  plain  woman 
has  gained  and  kept  a  heart  by  being  merely 
womanly  and  gentle.  In  one  respect,  how 
ever,  the  flirt  may  console  herself;  her  flirta 
tions  are  as  fearless  as  her  expressions;  they 
do  little  harm  to  any  but  herself.  Broken 
hearts  have  not  to  turn  reproachfully  to  loud 
high-spirited,  overbearing  women,  "jolly 
girls,"  as  they  are  styled ;  "chaff"  in  which 
they  delight  as  often  offends  as  amuses.  To 
gain  an  empire  over  the  affections  of  others, 
there  must  be  somewhat  of  sentiment  or 
sympathy  in  the  nature  of  woman.  Your 
loud,  boastful,  positive  young  lady,  will  never 
be  remembered  with  a  soft  interest,  unless 
there  be,  perchance,  some  soft  touch  in  her 
that  redeems  her  from  hardness. 

Flirtation. 

With  regard  to  flirtation,  it  is  difficult  to 
draw  a  limit  where  the  predilection  of  the 
moment  becomes  the  more  tender  and  seri« 
ous  feeling,  and  flirtation  sobers  into  a  more 
honorable  form  of  devoted  attention. 

TVe  all  dread  for  our  daughters  imprudent 
and  harrassing  attachments ;  let  it  not,  how 
ever,  be  supposed  that  long  practiced  flirta 
tions  are  without  their  evil  effects  on  the 
character  and  manners.  They  excite  and 
amuse,  but  they  also  exhaust  the  spirit, 
They  expose  women  to  censure  and  to  mis- 
construction;  that  is  their  least  evil;  they 
destroy  the  charm  of  her  manners  and  the 
simplicity  of  her  heart.  Yet  the  coquette 
clings  to  flirtation  of  the  type  of  her  class; 
it  is  the  privilege  of  that  social  instinct 
which  enables  one  flirt  to  discover  and  find 
out  another.  She  glories  in  number.  Where 
a  rival  has  slain  her  thousands,  she  has  over 
thrown  her  tens  of  thousands.  She  forgets 


THE  TRUE  LADY. 


that,  with  every  successive  flirtation,  one 
charm  after  another  disappears,  like  the 
petals  from  a  fading  rose,  until  all  the  de- 
liciousness  of  a  fresh  and  pure  character  is 
lost  in  the  destructive  sport  On  all  these 
points  a  woman  should  take  a  high  tone  in 
the  beginning  of  her  life.  It  is  sure  to  be 
sufficiently  lowered  as  time  goes  on.  She 
loses,  too,  that  sort  of  tact  which  prevents 
her  from  discerning  when  she  has  gone  too 
far,  and  the  forward  young  lady  becomes  the 
hardened  and  practiced  flirt,  against  whom 
all  men  are  on  their  guard. 

Substantial  Virtues. 

Says  a  well-known  English  author:  "It  is 
true  that,  in  comparing  the  present  day  with 
former  times,  we  must  take  into  account, 
when  we  praise  the  models  of  more  chivalric 
days,  that  we  know  only  the  best  specimens ; 
the  interior  life  of  the  middle  classes  is  veiled 
from  us  by  the  mist  of  ages.  Yet  it  is  to  be 
deduced  from  biography,  as  well  as  from  the 
testimony  of  the  poets  and  dramatists,  that 
there  was,  before  the  Restoration,  a  sort  of 
halo  around  young  women  of  delicacy  and 
good  breeding,  owing,  perhaps,  in  part,  to 
the  more  retired  lives  that  they  led,  but  more 
to  the  remnants  of  that  fast-departing  senti 
ment  of  chivalrous  respect  which  youth  and 
beauty  inspired.  Then  came  the  upsetting 
demoralization  of  the  Restoration,  when  all 
prudent  fathers  kept  their  daughters  from 
court,  and  only  the  bold  and  unrefined  re 
mained  to  furnish  chronicles  for  De  Gram- 
mont;  we  are  not,  therefore,  to  judge  of  the 
young  women  of  England  by  his  pictures. 
The  character  of  English  ladies  rose  again 
to  a  height  of  moral  elevation  during  the 
placid  and  well-conducted  rule  of  Anne,  and 
continued,  as  far  as  related  to  single  women, 
to  be  the  pride  and  boast  of  the  country. 
Even  now,  when  the  reckless  flirtation,  loud 
voices,  unamusing  jokes,  which  are  comprised 


under  the  odious  term  'chaff,'  and  the 
culine  tastes  of  the  present  day  are  deprecated, 
events  bring  forth  from  time  to  time  such  in« 
stances  of  devotion  and  virtue  as  must  con 
vince  one  that  there  is  no  degeneracy  in  out 
own  countrywomen  on  solid  points.  Few, 
indeed,  are  these  instances,  among  the  class 
we  have  described.  We  must  not  look  for 
Florence  Nightingales  and  Miss  Marshes 
among  that  company  of  the  unrefined." 

The  Prude  and  Blue-Stocking1. 

Contrasted  with  the  coquette,  comes  forth 
the  prude,  and  her  friend  the  blue-stock 
ing,  who  see  harm  in  everything.  You  may 
know  the  prude  by  her  stolid  air  of  resist 
ance  to  mankind  in  general,  and  by  her 
patronizing  manner  to  her  onn  sex.  Her 
style  of  manner  is  repressive  ;  her  style  of 
conversation,  reprehensive.  Sn^  bas  started 
in  life  with  an  immense  conceit  of  her  own 
mental  powers  and  moral  attributes,  of  which 
the  world  in  general  is  scarcely  woi  thy.  Her 
manner  is  indicative  of  this  conviction  ;  and 
becomes  accordingly,  without  her  intending 
it,  offensive,  when  she  believes  herself  to  be 
polite. 

The  prude  and  the  pedant  are  often  firm 
friends,  each  adoring  the  other.  The  unre 
fined  young  lady  deals  largely  in  epithets : 
"idiot,  dolt,  wretch,  humbug,  fraud,"  drop 
from  her  lips ;  but  the  prude  and  her  friend 
the  blue-stocking  permit  themselves  to  use 
conventional  phrases  only ;  their  notion  of 
conversation  is  that  it  be  instructive,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  mystifying.  The  young  blue 
stocking  has,  nevertheless,  large  views  of  the 
regeneration  of  society,  and  emancipation 
of  woman  from  her  degrading  inferiority 
of  social  position.  She  speaks  in  measured 
phrase ;  it  is  like  listening  to  a  book  to  hear 
her.  She  is  wrapped  up  in  Tennyson, 
Browning  and  Holmes.  There  is,  in  all  this, 
a  great  aim  at  display,  with  a  self-righteous- 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


ness  that  is  very  unpleasing.  Avoid,  there 
fore,  either  extreme,  and  be  convinced  that 
an  artless  gaiety,  tempered  by  refinement, 
always  pleases.  Every  attempt  to  obtrude  on 
a  company  subjects  either  to  which  they  are 
indifferent,  or  of  which  they  are  ignorant,  is 
in  bad  taste. 

*'  Man  should  be  taught  as  though  you  taught  him  not, 
And  things  unknown  proposed  as  things  forgot." 

The  Married  Lady. 

The  bearing  of  married  women  should  so 
Jbr  differ  from  that  of  the  unmarried,  that 
there  should  be  greater  quietness  and  dignity ; 
a  more  close  adherence  to  forms ;  and  an 
obvious,  as  well  as  a  real  abandonment  of  the 
admiration  which  has  been  received  before 
marriage.  All  flirtation,  however  it  may  be 
countenanced  by  the  present  custom  of 
society,  should  be  sternly  and  forever  put 
aside.  There  is  no  reason  for  conversation 
to  be  less  lively,  or  society  less  agreeable ;  it 
is,  indeed,  likely  to  be  more  so,  if  flattered 
vanity,  which  may  be  wounded  at  any 
moment,  interposes,  not  to  m-ar  but  to  en 
hance  enjoyment.  If  a  young  married 
woman  wishes  to  be  respected,  and  therefore 
happy  in  life,  there  should  be  a  quiet  pro 
priety  of  manner,  a  dignity  towards  the  male 
sex,  which  cannot  be  mistaken  in  her  for 
prudery,  since  it  is  consistent  with  her  posi 
tion  and  her  ties.  She  should  change  her 
tone,  if  that  has  been  unrefined ;  she  should 
not  put  herself  on  a  level  with  young  un 
married  women  of  her  own  age,  but  should 
influence  and  even  lead  her  youthful  acquaint 
ance  into  that  style  of  behavior  which  is  much 
esteemed  by  men  of  good  taste.  She  should 
father  discountenance  coquetry,  but  has  no 
need  to  copy  or  to  bring  forward  the  prude 
and  the  blue-stocking. 

With  regard  to  dress,  it  is  impossible  to  do 
more  than  offer  a  few  general  observations. 
Hie  fashion  of  dress  is  of  to-day ;  but  the 


aesthetics  of  dress  are  for  all  time.  No  ma 
ter  to  what  absurd  lengths  fashion  may  go, 
a  woman  of  taste  will  ever  avoid  the  ridicu 
lous.  The  milliner  and  dressmaker  may 
handle  the  scissors  never  so  despotically,  but 
in  matters  of  color,  harmony,  and  contrast, 
they  remain  under  the  control  of  their  en> 
ployer.  Dress,  indeed,  may  fairly  claim  to 
be  considered  in  the  light  of  a  fine  art.  To 
dress  well  demands  something  more  than  a 
full  purse  and  a  pretty  figure.  It  requires 
taste,  good  sense,  and  refinement. 

Propriety  of  Dress. 

A  woman  of  taste  and  good  sense  will 
neither  make  dress  her  first  nor  her  last 
object  in  life.  She  will  remember  that  no 
wife  should  betray  that  total  indifference  for 
her  husband's  taste  which  is  implied  in  the 
neglect  of  her  appearance ;  and  she  will  also 
remember  that  to  dress  consistently  and  taste 
fully  is  one  of  the  duties  which  she  owes  tc 
society. 

There  is  a  Spanish  proverb  which  says, 
"Every  hair  has  its  shadow,"  So,  in  like 
manner,  every  lady,  however  insignificant  hei 
social  position  may  appear  to  herself,  must 
exercise  a  certain  influence  on  the  feelings 
and  opinions  of  others.  If,  therefore,  the  art 
of  dressing  appears  either  too  irksome  or  too 
frivolous  to  such  of  the  fair  sex  as  are  en 
gaged  in  serious  occupations,  let  them  re 
member  that  it  performs  the  same  part  in 
beautifying  domestic  life  as  is  performed  by 
-jnusic  and  the  fine  arts  in  embellishing  the 
life  moral  and  spiritual.  So  long,  there* 
fore,  as  dress  merely  occupies  so  much  time 
and  requires  so  much  money  as  we  are  fairly 
entitled  to  allow  it,  nothing  can  be  said 
against  it.  When  extravagant  fashions  are 
indulged  in— extravagant  habits  fostered  at 
any  cost  and  under  any  circumstances — the 
critic  is  quite  justified  in  his  strictures,  how 
ever  severe.  Dress,  to  be  in  perfect  taste. 


THE  TRUE  LADY. 

need  not  be  costly ;  and  no  woman  of  right 
feeling  will  adorn  her  person  at  the  expense 
of  her  husband's  comfort  or  her  children's 
education. 

Good  Taste. 

"  As  a  work  of  art  a  well-dressed  woman 
Is  a  study."  Her  toilette  will  be  as  well 
chosen  at  the  family  breakfast-table  as  at  the 
boll.  If  she  loves  bright  colors  and  can  wear 
them  with  impunity,  they  will  be  as  harmo 
niously  arranged  as  an  artist  arranges  his 
colors  on  the  palette.  If  she  is  young,  her 
dress  will  be  youthful ;  if  she  is  old,  it  v/ill 
not  affect  simplicity.  She  will  always  follow 
rather  than  lead  the  prevailing  fashion,  and 
rather  follow  her  own  fashion  than  violate 
good  taste  or  common  sense. 

The  golden  rule  in  dress  is  to  avoid  ex 
tremes.  Do  not  be  so  original  in  your  dress 
as  to  be  peculiar ;  and  do  not  affect  fashions 
that  are  radically  unbecoming  to  you.  Ladies 
who  are  neither  very  young  nor  very  striking 
in  appearance  cannot  do  better  than  wear 
quiet  colors.  Ladies  who  are  not  rich  can 
always  appear  well  dressed,  with  a  little  care 
in  the  choice  and  the  arrangement  of  the 
materials.  Whatever  the  texture  of  the  dress, 
it  should  be  made  by  the  very  best  dressmaker 
you  can  afford.  As  well  go  to  a  third  or 
a  fourth-rate  dentist,  music-master,  or  doctor, 
as  go  to  a  third  or  fourth-rate  dressmaker. 
The  dressmaker  is  a  woman's  good  or  evil 
genius. 

Morning  dress  should  be  faultless  in  its 
way.  For  young  ladies,  married  or  unmar 
ried,  nothing  is  prettier  in  summer  than 
white  or  very  light  morning  dresses  of  wash 
ing  materials.  Light  dresses  must  be  ex 
quisitely  fresh  and  clean,  ribbons  fresh, 
collars  and  cuffs  irreproachable.  All  stuffs 
are  to  be  rigidly  eschewed  except  those  of  the 
very  finest  kind.  Morning  dress  for  elderly 
ladies  of  wealth  and  position  should  be  of 


27 

dark  silk.  Jewelry,  hair  ornament,  and  light 
silk  dresses  are  not  permissible  for  morning 
wear. 

Walking  dress  should  always  be  quiet. 
Rich  walking  dress  attracts  attention,  which 
in  the  street  is  not  desirable.  For  the  car 
riage,  a  lady  may  dress  as  elegantly  as  she 
pleases. 

Elderly  ladies  should  always  dress  richly. 
Any  thin  old  lady  may  wear  delicate  colors^ 
whilst  a  stout,  florid  person  looks  best  in 
black  or  dark  gray.  For  young  as  well  as 
old,  the  question  of  colors  must,  however, 
be  determined  by  complexion  and  figure. 
Rich  colors  harmonize  with  rich  brunette 
complexions  and  dark  hair ;  delicate  colors 
are  the  most  suitable  for  delicate  and  fragile 
styles  of  beauty, 

At  dinner  parties,  unless  of  a  smaK 
friendly  kind,  only  the  fullest  dress  is  appro 
priate.  Demi-toilette  can  be  worn  at  uncere 
monious  dinners,  and  even  high  dresses,  ii 
the  material  be  sufficiently  rich.  It  is  better 
to  wear  real  flowers  at  large  dinner  parties, 
but  artificial  ones  at  balls ;  since  the  former 
would  droop  and  fall  to  pieces  with  the  heat 
and  the  dancing. 

What  Jewelry  to  Wear. 

Much  jewelry  is  out  of  place  for  young 
ladies  at  any  time ;    and,  indeed,  there  is  as 
much  propriety  to  be  observed  in  the  wear 
ing  of  jewelry  as  in  the  wearing  of  dresses. 
Diamonds,  pearls,  rubies,  and  all  transparent 
precious  stones  belong  to  evening  dress,  and 
should  never  be  worn  before  dinner.     In  the 
morning,  one's  rings  should  be  of  the  f.im 
plest  kind,  and   the  jewelry  limited  to  i 
good  brooch,  gold  chain,  and  watch.     Dia 
monds  and  pearls  are  as  much  out  of  place 
during  the  morning  as  a  low  dress  or  a  wreath. 

It  is  well  to  remember  in  the  choice  of 
jewelry  that  mere  costliness  is  not  always  the 
test  of  value ;  and  that  an  exquisite  work  of 


28 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


art,  or  a  natural  rarity,  such  as  a  black  pearl, 
is  a  possession  more  desirable  than  a  large 
brilliant  which  any  one  who  has  money 
enough  can  buy  as  well  as  yourself. 

Gloves,  shoes,  and  boots  must  always  be 
faultless.  Gloves  cannot  be  too  light  for  the 
carriage,  or  too  dark  for  the  streets.  A 
woman  with  ill-fitting  gloves  cannot  be  said 
to  be  well  dressed;  while  to  wear  soiled 
gloves  at  your  friend's  reception  is  to  show 
her  that  you  think  lightly  of  herself  and  her 
company. 

It  may  be  remarked,  by  the  way,  that  per 
fumes  should  be  used  only  in  the  evening, 
and  with  the  strictest  moderation.  Perfumes 
to  be  tolerable  must  be  of  the  most  delicate 
kind  Some  people  of  sensitive  temperament 
would  be  made  ill  by  the  smell  of  musk  or 
patchouli. 

Let  every  lady  remember  Dr.  Johnson's 
criticism  on  a  lady's  dress :  "I  am  sure  she  was 
well  dressed,"  said  the  Doctor,  "for  I  cannot 
remember  what  she  had  on." 

Apparel  for  the  Street. 

Suit  your  dresses  to  the  occasion  upon 
which  they  are  to  be  used.  In  the  morning, 
at  home,  a  lady  may  wear  a  loose,  flowing 
dress,  made  high  in  the  neck,  with  a  belt  at 
the  waist,  and  with  loose  sleeves  fastened  at 
the  wrist.  On  the  street  a  walking-costume 
should  be  worn,  and  the  dress  should  clear 
the  ground.  Fashion  may  sometimes  demand 
a  trailing  dress  for  the  street,  but  no  lady 
should  submit  to  such  a  demand.  There  is 
nothing  more  disgusting  than  to  see  a  rich 
dress  sweeping  up  the  dirt  and  filth  of  the 
street.  The  shoes  for  the  street  should  be 
high,  warm,  and  easy  to  the  feet,  with  a  low, 
broad  heel,  and  should  be  always  neatly 
blackened.  For  ordinary  street  wear  a  lady 
may  use  either  a  hat  or  a  bonnet.  This  is  a 
matter  of  taste.  In  the  dress  of  ladies,  great 
autude  .is  allowed;  but  the  aim  of  the 


gentle  sex  should  be  simplicity  and  taste. 
Consider  what  colors  will  suit  your  com< 
plexion.  If  a  lady  is  dark,  blue  will  not 
look  well  upon  her ;  or  if  she  be  fair,  pink 
will  not  become  her.  The  most  trying  color 
is  yellow.  Only  very  pronounced  brunettes 
can  wear  it.  A  lady  must  also  take  her  size 
into  consideration  in  selecting  her  dress. 
Stripes  running  the  length  of  the  dress  have 
the  effect  of  making  a  short  person  look 
taller,  and  should  not  be  worn  by  a  tall  per 
son.  On  the  other  hand,  flounces  may  be 
worn  by  tall  persons  only,  as  they  cause  them 
to  look  shorter. 

It  is  important  that  a  lady  should  always 
dress  neatly  at  home.  She  is  then  ready  ta 
receive  a  morning  caller  without  having  to 
change  her  dress.  She  should  change  hei 
dress  for  the  evening.  Some  neat  and  dainty 
costume  should  be  worn,  according  to  hei 
taste,  for  it  is  in  the  evening  that  she  is 
thrown  most  with  the  male  members  of  her 
family,  and  is  most  likely  to  have  visitors. 
In  making  evening  calls  upon  her  friendsr 
a  lady  should  wear  a  hood,  or  some  light 
head-wrap  easily  laid  aside.  A  bonnet  saould 
always  be  removed  at  the  commencement  of 
such  a  visit. 

Public  Occasions. 

The  fashion  of  the  time  should  govern  the 
evening  dress.  It  always  means  full  dress, 
but  it  is  impossible  to  give  any  fixed  rule  re* 
garding  it.  A  competent  dressmaker,  or  the 
fashion  publications  of  the  time,  will  give  the 
necessary  information.  In  Europe,  the  even 
ing  dress  requires  the  exposure  of  the  arms 
and  neck ;  but  in  this  country  the  more  sen* 
sible  plan  of  covering  these  parts  of  the  body 
is  fairly  the  fashion,  and  should  be  observed 
except  on  very  special  occasions. 

The  dress  for  balls  and  soirees  should  be  of 
the  richest  and  most  elaborate  description^ 
with  elegant  jewelry,  This  is  a  matter  orf 


THE  TRUE  LADY. 


taste  with  the  lady,  who  should  avoid  being 
over  dressed.  White  kid  gloves  and  white 
satin  or  kid  boots  are  most  suitable  to  a  ball 
dress.  If  the  overdress  is  of  black  lace,  black 
Satin  shoes  are  worn. 

The  richest  full  dress  should  be  worn  at 
the  opera.  This  must  be  governed  by  the 
prevailing  fashion.  The  head  should  be  bare, 
and  dressed  in  the  most  becoming  style. 
Jewelry  may  be  worn,  according  to  taste,  as 
there  is  no  place  where  it  shows  to  better 
advantage.  A  light  or  brilliant  colored 
opera  cloak  will  add  greatly  to  the  lady's 
appearance  and  comfort.  Gloves  of  white, 
or  delicately  tinted  kid  only  are  to  be  worn. 

The  ordinary  walking-dress  is  suitable  for 
the  theatre  and  places  of  amusement  generally. 
A  rich  and  elegant  shawl  may  be  worn,  as  it 
can  be  thrown  off  when  uncomfortable. 

Dress  for  Church. 

Plain  and  simple  dress  should  be  \vorn  for 
-church,  with  very  little  jewelry.  The  cos 
tume  should  be  of  quiet  colors.  It  is  a  mark 
of  bad  taste  for  ladies  to  attend  church  elab 
orately  or  conspicuously  dressed.  It  shows 
a  disregard  for  the  solemnity  of  the  sanctuary, 
and  is  calculated  to  draw  off  the  attention  of 
others  from  the  duties  of  the  place.  In  re 
ceiving  the  Holy  Communion,  the  hands 
should  be  ungloved. 

A  lady's  street  dress  should  be  simple  and 
without  display.  To  dress  conspicuously  or 
in  brilliant  colors  for  the  street  is  a  sign  of 
bad  breeding.  In  bad  weather,  a  light  rubber 
or  cloth  waterproof  with  a  hood  is  more  con 
venient  and  a  better  protection  than  an 
umbrella.  To  wear  much  jewelry  on  the 
street  is  vulgar.  In  large  cities  it  subjects  a 
lady  to  the  danger  of  robbery. 

Travelling  costume  should  be  simple  and  of 
quiet  colors,  such  as  will  not  show  dirt.  A 
very  slight  display  of  jewelry  should  be  made, 
specially  if  the  lady  is  travelling  alone..  A 


waterproof  cloak  should  be  carried  along,  as 
no  one  can  tell  at  what  time  it  may  be 
needed.  In  the  summer,  a  long  linen  duster 
should  be  worn  over  the  dress.  It  should  be 
belted  at  the  waist. 

For  the  country  or  sea-side,  simple  and 
inexpensive  dresses  should  be  provided  for 
ordinary  wear.  The  bonnet  should  give 
place  to  a  hat  with  a  brim  sufficiently  wide 
to  shield  the  face  and  neck  from  the  sun. 

Bathing  dresses  should  be  made  of  blue  or 
gray  flannel.  The  skirt  should  come  down 
to  the  ankles,  and  the  sleeves  should  be  long. 
An  oil  silk  or  India-rubber  cap,  fitting  tightly 
around  the  head,  will  protect  the  hair  from 
the  salt  water. 

Consider  your  age  in  choosing  your  cos 
tume.     An  old  woman  cannot  properly  dress 
like  a  young  girl.     No  one  should  dress  in  • 
the   "height  of  the  fashion."     Moderation 
is  a  sure  mark  of  good  breeding. 

It  is  impossible  to  prescribe  an  exact  style 
or  mode  of  dress  for  ladies  in  all  places  and 
on  all  occasions.  Fashion  will  change,  and, 
it  must  be  confessed,  in  the  matter  of  female 
costume,  its  changes  have  been  for  the 

better. 

New  Attractions. 

Every  lady  should  keep  her  eyes  open  to 
the  changes  which  are  constantly  going  on 
in  the  fashionable  world.  The  female  mind 
is  unusually  busy  at  the  present  time,  and 
some  of  the  best  talent  of  the  country  is 
employed  in  devising  new  and  beautiful  cos 
tumes.  The  journals  of  fashion  are  as  ably 
edited  as  any  of  our  great  political  journals 
or  literary  magazines.  If  a  young  lady 
proves  herself  to  be  an  expert  in  making 
new  designs,  such  as  will  be  popular,  she 
commands  a  salary  equal  to  that  paid  for  the 
best  literary  talent  Instances  are  on  record 
of  young  girls  who  have  shown  great  genius 
in  this  direction,  and  have  amassed  comfort 
able  fortunes  at  a  comparatively  early  age. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  True  Gentleman. 


|OIT  «nust  be  a  gentleman  before  you 
cart  act  the  gentleman.  If  you 
attempt  to  put  on  what  you  have 
not,  the  world  will  discover  the  cheat,  and 
will  ridicule  your  hypocrisy.  How  are  we 
to  define  that  unmistakable  something,  in 
every  look  and  word,  that  makes  a  gentleman 
or  gentlewoman?  May  good  breeding  be 
acquired  as  an  art?  and  if  so,  where  are  we 
to  seek  the  best  professors?  Who  does  not 
wish  to  give  his  children,  above  all  other 
accomplishments,  that  inestimable  branch  of 
education,  the  manners  of  good  society? 
•What  is  learning,  what  are  abilities,  what 
are  personal  attractions,  what  is  wealth,  with 
out  this  one  supreme  essential? 

A  man  may  know  as  many  languages  as 
Burritt,  may  have  made  scientific  discoveries 
greater  than  those  of  Herschel  or  Darwin, 
may  be  as  rich  as  a  Vanderbilt,  as  brave  as  a 
Sheridan  or  Jackson,  yet  if  he  has  a  habit  of 
hesitating  over  his  words,  or  twisting  his 
limbs,  of  twirling  his  thumbs,  of  laughing 
boisterously,  of  doing  or  saying  awkward 
trifles,  of  what  account  is  he  in  society?  But 
we  would  by  no  means  be  understood  to  say 
that  these  mere  outward  observances  con 
stitute  the  essence  of  good  manners.  Neither 
gestures,  nor  tones,  nor  habits,  can  be  ac 
cepted  as  infallible  signs  of  good  or  ill  breed 
ing.  Yawning,  and  lolling,  and  knife-swal- 
towing,  are  terrible  habits  enough,  and  would 
oe,  of  course,  sufficient  to  exclude  any  man 
or  woman  who  practiced  them  from  the  pre 
cincts  of  good  society ;  not  only  because  they 
are  in  themselves  offensive,  but  because  they 
would  point  to  foregone  associations  of  a 


vulgar  kind ;  but  they  do  not  of  necessity 
prove  that  the  primary  essentials  of  goov 
manners — the  foundation,  so  to  speak,  upon 
which  the  edifice  of  good  manners  should  be 
built — is  wanting  in  those  unfortunate  per« 
sons  who  are  guilty  of  the  offences  in  ques 
tion. 

That  foundation,  that  primary  essential,  is 
goodness — innate  goodness,  innate  gentle 
ness,  innate  unselfishness.  Upon  these  quali 
ties,  and  these  alone,  are  based  all  those 
observances  and  customs  which  we  class 
together  under  the  head  of  good  manners. 
And  these  good  manners,  be  it  remembered, 
do  not  merely  consist  in  the  art  of  bowing 
gracefully,  of  entering  a  room  well,  of  talk 
ing  easily,  of  being  familiar  with  all  tht 
minor  habits  of  the  best  society.  A  man 
may  have  all  this,  know  all  this,  and  yet,  if 
he  be  selfish,  or  ill-natured,  or  untruthful,  fail 
altogether  of  being  a  true  gentleman,  and 
repel  those  who  are  well  bred. 

Good  manners  are  far,  indeed,  from  being 
the  outward  evidences  of  mere  training  and 
discipline.  They  are  the  kindly  fruits  of  a 
refined  nature.  As  j  ust  and  elevated  thoughts 
expressed  in  choice  language  are  the  index 
of  a  highly  trained  and  well-regulated  mind, 
so  does  every  act,  however  unimportant; 
and  every  gesture,  however  insignificant 
reveal  the  kindly,  considerate,  modest,  loya* 
nature  of  the  true  gentleman  and  the  tra 
lady. 

Hear  what  Ruskin  has  to  say  of  the  char 
acteristics  of  the  true  gentleman :  "  A  gen 
tleman's  first  characteristic  is  that  fineness  oi 
structure  in  the  body  which  renders  it  capa- 


THE  TRUE  GENTLEMAN. 


ble  of  the  most  delicate  sensation,  and  of 
that  structure  in  the  mind  which  renders  it 
capable  of  the  most  delicate  sympathies — one 
may  say,  simply,  'fineness  of  nature.'  This 
is,  of  course,  compatible  with  heroic  bodily 
strength  and  mental  firmness ;  in  fact,  heroic 
strength  is  not  conceivable  without  such 
delicacy.  Elephantine  strength  may  drive 
its  way  through  a  forest,  and  feel  no  touch  of 
the  boughs ;  but  the  white  skin  of  Homer's 
Atrides  would  have  felt  a  bent  rose-leaf,  yet 
subdue  its  feelings  in  glow  of  battle,  and 
behave  itself  like  iron.  I  do  not  mean  to 
call  an  elephant  a  vulgar  animal:  but  if 
you  think  about  him  carefully,  you  will  find 
that  his  non-vulgarity  consists  in  such  gen 
tleness  as  is  possible  to  elephantine  nature; 
not  in  his  insensitive  hide,  nor  in  his  clumsy 
foot,  but  in  the  way  he  will  lift  his  foot  if  a 
child  lies  in  his  path ;  and  in  his  sensitive 
trunk,  and  still  more  sensitive  mind,  and 
capability  of  pique  on  points  of  honor.  Hence 
it  will  follow,  that  one  of  the  probable  signs 
of  high  breeding  in  men  generally  will  be 
their  kindness  and  mercifulness ;  these  always 
indicating  more  or  less  firmness  of  make  in 
the  mind." 

Kindly  Consideration  of  Others. 

Manners  and  morals  are  indissolubly  allied, 
and  he  who  undertakes  to  discourse  of  the 
one  can  never,  in  his  own  mind,  lose  sight 
of  the  other. 

Just  as  it  may  be  shown  that  every  form 
of  salutation  takes  its  origin  either  in  some 
religious  observance  or  in  some  curious  medi 
aeval  ceremony,  so  it  may  also  be  shown  that 
the  simplest  rules  of  etiquette  are  traceable, 
in  their  essence,  to  that  unselfishness  of  na 
ture,  and  that  kindly  consideration  for  others, 
which  Ruskin,  as  we  have  just  seen,  defines 
as  "fi^eiaess  of  nature.' *  and  adduces  as  the 
touchstone  of  genuine  oreeding.  To  listen 
with  patience,  however  prosy  our  entertainer 


may  be ;  to  smile  at  the  thrice-told  jest ;  to 
yield  the  best  seat,  or  the  choicest  dish,  ot 
the  most  amusing  volume,  are  acts,  not  of 
mere  civility,  but  of  kindness  and  unselfish 
ness.  So  of  every  other  prescribed  rule  of 
social  conduct — so  of  that  abstinence  from  in 
terruption  or  contradiction  in  conversation ;  ol 
that  suppression  of  a  yawn ;  of  that  cheerful 
countenance  concealing  inward  anxiety  01 
weariness;  of  those  perpetual  endeavors  t<* 
please  and  to  seem  pleased,  which  end  by  be 
coming  a  second  nature  to  the  really  well 
brer1  peinon. 

Marks  of  Vulgarity. 

Analyze  each  one  of  these  acts,  and  it  re 
solves  itself  into  a  concession  towards  the 
feelings,  the  vanity,  or  the  comfort  of  others. 
Its  essence  is  unselfishness.  Its  animating 
spirit  is  forbearance.  The  proposition  is 
demonstrable  by  a  process  of  reversal.  If 
goodness  be  the  parent  of  politeness,  is  not 
badness  the  parent  of  vulgarity  ?  Is  not  bad 
temper  vulgar?  Is  not  selfishness  vulgar? 
Is  not  scandal  vulgar  ?  Are  not  greediness, 
egotism,  inquisitiveness,  prevarication,  lying,, 
and  dishonesty,  one  and  all,  utterly  vulgar? 
In  a  word,  is  not  vice  vulgar? 

If,  then,  we  desire  that  our  children  shall  be 
come  ladies  and  gentlemen,  can  we  make  them 
so,  think  you,  by  lavishing  money  upon  for 
eign  professors,  dancing  masters,  continental 
tours,  tailors  and  dressmakers?  Ah,  no  I 
good  breeding  is  far  less  costly,  and  begins 
far  earlier  than  those  things.  Let  our  lit 
tle  ones  be  nurtured  in  an  atmosphere  of 
gentleness  and  kindness  from  the  nursery 
upwards ;  let  them  grow  up  in  a  home  where 
a  rude  gesture  or  an  ill-tempered  word  are 
alike  unknown;  where  between  father  and 
mother,  master  and  servant,  mistrc-ss  and 
maid,  friend  and  friend,  parent  and  child, 
prevails  the -law  of  truth,  of  kindness,  of  con 
sideration  for  others,  and  forgetralness  of  sel£ 


32  RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE 

«Can  they  cany  into  the  world,  whither  we 
send  them  later,  aught  of  coarseness,  of  un- 
truthfulness,  of  slatternliness,  of  vulgarity,  if 
their  home  has  been  orderly,  if  their  parents 
have  been  refined,  their  servants  well-man 
nered,  their  friends  and  playmates  kind  and 
carefully  trained  as  themselves  ? 

Do  we  want  our  boys  to  succeed  in  the 
world;  our  girls  to  be  admired  and  loved; 
their  tastes  to  be  elegant;  their  language 
.choice;  their  manners  simple,  charming, 
graceful ;  their  friendships  elevating  ?  Then 
we  must  ourselves  be  what  we  would  have 
•our  children  to  be,  remembering  the  golden 
maxim,  that  good  manners,  like  charity, 
must  begin  at  home.  Good  manners  are  an 
immense  social  force.  We  should  therefore 
spare  no  pains  to  teach  our  children  what  to 
•io,  and  what  to  p^oid  doing,  in  their  pathway 
through  life. 

What  Emerson  says  of  Mann '  TS. 

"When  we  reflect,"  says  Emerson,  "how 
manners  recommend,  prepare,  and  draw  peo 
ple  together;  how,  in  all  clubs,  manners 
make  the  members ;  how  manners  make  the 
fortune  of  the  ambitious  youth ;  that,  for  the 
most  part,  his  manners  marry  him,  and,  for 
the  most  part,  he  marries  manners ;  when  we 
think  what  keys  they  are,  and  to  what  se 
crets  ;  what  high  lessons  and  inspiring  tokens 
of  character  they  convey  ;  and  what  divina 
tion  is  required  in  us  for  the  reading  of  this 
fine  telegraph,  we  see  what  range  the  subject 
has,  and  what  relations  to  convenience,  form 
tnd  beauty." 

Again  the  same  writer  says,  "  The  maxim 
if  courts  is  power.  A  calm  and  resolute 
bearing,  a  polished  speech,  an  embellishment 
of  trifles,  and  the  art  of  hiding  all  uncomfort 
able  feelings,  are  essential  to  the  courtier. 
Manners  impress,  as  they  indicate  real  power. 
A  man  who  is  sure  of  his  point  carries  a 
broad  and  contented  expression,  which  every- 


FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 

body  reads ;  and  you  cannot  rigntly  train  to 
an  air  and  manner,  except  by  making  him 
the  kind  of  man  of  whom  that  manner  is  the 
natural  expression.  Nature  for  ever  puts  a 
premium  on  reality." 

The  manners  of  a  gentleman  are  the  index 
of  his  soul.  His  speech  is  innocent,  because 
his  life  is  pure ;  his  thoughts  are  direct, 
because  his  actions  are  upright ;  his  bearing 
is  gentle,  because  his  blood,  and  his  impulses, 
and  his  training,  are  gentle  also.  A  true 
gentleman  is  entirely  free  from  every  kind 
of  pretence.  He  avoids  homage,  instead  of 
exacting  it  Mere  ceremonies  have  no 
attraction  for  him.  He  seeks  no  more  to  say 
civil  things,  than  to  do  them.  His  hospitality, 
though  hearty  and  sincere,  will  be  strictly 
regulated  by  his  means.  His  friends  will  be 
chosen  for  their  good  qualities  and  good 
manners  ;  his  servants,  for  their  truthfulness 
and  honesty ;  his  occupations,  for  their  use 
fulness,  or  their  gracefulness,  or  their  elevating 
tendencies,  whether  moral,  or  mental,  or 
political.  And  so  we  come  round  again  to 
our  first  maxim  ;  that  "  good  manners  are  the 
kindly  fruit  of  a  refined  nature." 

Personal  Appearance. 

Young  says : 

Nothing  exceeds  in  ridicule,  no  doubt, 
A  fool  in  fashion — but  a  fool  that's  out. 

The  personal  appearance  is  a  matter  of  the 
first  concern.  We  see  what  a  man  is  before 
we  see  what  he  does  or  says. 

Buffon  has  remarked  that  a  man's  clothes 
are  a  part  of  the  individual,  and  enter  into 
our  idea  of  the  character.  No  man  who  is 
acquainted  experimentally  with  the  world,  or 
who  has  reasoned  upon  the  progress  of  feeling, 
can  regard  the  matter  of  dress  as  an  unim 
portant  consideration.  So  intimatdy  are 
the  impressions  of  the  senses  connected  with 
the  conclusions  of  the  intellect,  that  though 
we  may  dread,  it  is  impossible  to  respect,  a 


THE  TRUE  GENTLEMAN. 


33 


person  who  dresses  very  negligently.  The 
action  which  is  formed  of  the  interior  quali 
ties  is  insensibly  influenced  by  the  exterior 
show.  "  We  must  speak  to  the  eyes,"  says 
Walpole,  "if  we  wish  to  affect  the  mind." 

The  personal  appearance  is  particularly 
Important  where  women  are  concerned ;  for 
most  of  them  make  it  a  rule  to  judge  of; 
character  by  the  first  impression.  Good 
dressing  is  as  important  in  courtship  as  in 
cookery. 

The  lavery  of  Good  Society. 

In  paying  a  visit  or  in  seeking  company, 
it  is  manifestly  a  compliment  to  be  well- 
dressed,  and  an  insult  to  be  slovenly.  But 
even  in  a  casual  encounter,  and  upon  occa 
sions  where  your  habit  can  have  no  connection 
with  the  feelings  and  sentiments  which  you 
have  towards  those  whom  you  meet,  neat  and 
careful  dressing  will  bring  great  advantage 
to  you.  A  negligent  guise  shows  a  man  to 
be  satisfied  with  his  own  resources,  engrossed 
with  his  own  notions  and  schemes,  indifferent 
to  the  opinion  of  others,  and  not  looking 
abroad  for  entertainment:  to  such  a  man 
no  one  feels  encouraged  to  make  any  ad 
vances.  A  finished  dress  indicates  a  man  of 
the  world,  one  who  looks'  for,  and  habitually 
finds  pleasure  in  society  and  conversation,  and 
who  is  at  all  times  ready  to  mingle  in  inter 
course  with  those  whom  he  meets ;  it  is  a  kind 
01  general  offer  of  acquaintance,  and  proves  a 
willingness  to  be  spoken  to.  Dress  is  the 
livery  cf  good  society ;  and  no  one  can  get 
practice  in  his  profession  who  does  not  wear 
the  badge  of  his  calling. 

Dress  is  a  thing  very  significant  of  inward 
feeling,  and  very  operative  upon  outward 
conduct.  That  courtier  was  in  the  right, 
who  dated  the  commencement  of  the  French 
Revolution  from  the  day  when  a  nobleman 
appeared  at  Versailles  without  buckles  in  his 
shoes.  The  early  institutors  of  the  Society 
3 


of  Friends  displayed  consummate  7i'sdom  in 
providing  for  the  perpetual  separation  of 
their  sect  by  the  distinction  of  dress. 

Story  of  the  Jackals. 

"A  story,"  says  an  eminent  writer,  "is, 
never  too  old  to  tell,  if  it  be  made  to  sound 
new."  If  this  be  true,  I  may  be  excused  for 
narrating  the  following  history : — In  an  In 
dian  jungle  there  once  resided  a  tawny  jackal, 
a  member,  as  all  those  animals  are,  of  a  jackal 
club  which  met  at  night  in  the  said  jungle.  It 
was  the  custom  for  the  different  subscribers 
to  separate  early  in  the  evening  on  predatory 
excursions,  and  on  one  occasion  the  individua' 
in  question  having  dined  very  sparingly  that 
day  on  a  leg  of  horse,  ventured,  in  hopes  of  a 
supper,  within  the  precincts  of  a  neighboring 
town. 

It  happened  that  while  employed  in  the 
prowling  distinctive  of  his  kind,  he  fell  into 
a  sunken  vat  filled  with  indigo,  and  when  he 
had  contrived  to  struggle  out  again,  discov 
ered,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  that  his  coat 
had  assumed  a  brilliant  blue  tinge.  In  vain 
he  rolled  himself  on  the  grass,  in  vain  rubbed 
his  sides  against  the  bushes  of  the  jungle  to 
which  he  shortly  returned.  The  blue  stuck  to 
him,  and  so,  with  theacuteness  for  which  jack 
als  are  renowned,  he  determined  to  "stick  to" 
it  Shame  indeed  would  have  overcome  him, 
ridicule  have  driven  him  to  despair,  when  he 
rejoined  his  club,  but  for  this  resolution. 

That  very  morning  he  appeared  among 
his  kind,  whisking  his  tail  with  glee  and 
holding  his  head  erect.  A  titter,  of  course, 
welcomed  him,  and,  before  long,  you  would 
have  thought  that  every  jackal  present  had 
been  turned  into  a  laughing  hyena.  Our  hero 
was  nothing  abashed.  "Gentlemen"  said 
he,  in  the  dialect  of  Hindustani  peculiar  to 
his  kind,  "  I  have  been  to  town  and  bring 
you  the  last  new  fashion."  The  laughtet 
changed  to  respectful  admiration.  One  by 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


one  the  members  of  the  club  stole  up  to  him 
and  inquired  where  he  had  met  with  the  col- 
~-i2'ig,  Just  as  George  IV  asked  Brummell 
what  tailor  had  made  that  coat  The  address 
was  imparted,  and  if  on  the  following  even 
ing  not  all  of  the  prowling  beasts  appeared  in 
a  blue  coat,  it  was  only  because  three  of  them 
had  been  drowned  in  the  attempt  to  procure 
ft 

Fashion  is  called  a  despot ;  but  if  men,  like 
the  jackals  and  foxes,  are  willing,  nay,  eager 
to  be  its  slaves,  we  cannot,  and  ought  not, 
to  upbraid  fashion.  Its  adoption  is,  in 
short,  nothing  more  than  the  confession  that 
vanity  makes  of  its  own  weakness. 

The  worst  of  it  is,  that  the  man  who  rebels 
against  fashion,  is  even  more  open  t<^  the 
imputation  of  vanity  than  he  who  ob'  ys  it, 
because  he  makes  himself  conspicuo'<.*s,  and 
practically  announces  that  he  is  wis^r  than 
his  kind.  There  cannot  be  greater  vulgarity 
than  an  affectation  of  superior  simplicity. 
Between  the  two  it  is  left  to  th<i  man  of 
sense  and  modesty  only  to  follow  fashion  so 
far  as  not  to  make  himself  peculiar  oy  oppos 
ing  it 

Attractive  Simplicity. 

A  prime  requisite  in  dress  is  its  simplicity, 
with  which  I  may  couple  harmony  of  color. 
This  simplicity  is  the  only  distinction  which 
a  man  of  taste  should  aspire  to  in  the 
matter  of  dress,  but  a  simplicity  in  appearance 
must  proceed  from  a  nicety  in  reality.  One 
should  not  be  simply  ill-dressed,  but  simply 
well-dressed.  Lord  Castlereagh  would  never 
have  been  pronounced  the  most  distinguished 
man  in  the  gay  court  of  Vienna,  because  he 
wore  no  orders  or  ribbons  among  hundreds 
decorated  with  a  profusion  of  those  vanities, 
but  because  besides  this  he  was  dressed  with 
taiste.  The  charm  of  Brummell's  dress 


was  its  simplicity ;  yet  it  cost  him  as  much 
thought,  time,  and  care,  as  the  portfolio  of  a 
cabinet  officer  at  Washington.  The  rules  oj 
simplicity,  therefore,  are  the  rules  of  taste. 

All  extravagance,  all  splendor,  and  all  pro 
fusion,  must  be  avoided.  The  colors,  in  the 
first  place,  must  harmonize  both  with  our 
complexion  and  with  one  another ;  perhaps 
most  of  all  with  the  color  of  our  hair.  All 
bright  colors  should  be  avoided,  such  as  red, 
yellow,  sky-blue,  and  bright  green.  Perhaps 
only  a  successful  California  gold-digger  would 
think  of  choosing  such  colors  for  his  coat, 
vest,  or  trousers ;  but  there  are  hundreds  of 
young  men  who  might  select  them  for  their 
gloves  and  neck-ties.  The  deeper  colors  are, 
somehow  or  other,  more  manly,  and  are 
certainly  less  striking.  The  same  simplicity 
should  be  studied  in  the  avoidance  of  orna 
mentation. 

Appropriate  Costume. 
You  should  dress  according  to  your  occu 
pation  and  means.  If  you  are  a  salesman, 
you  would  not  think  it  appropriate  to  appeal 
in  the  regulation  garb  of  a  bishop.  Good 
sense  and  good  taste  is  the  first  rule,  and 
about  the  only  one  to  be  considered. 

In  the  shifting  climate  of  our  country 
gentlemen  of  late  years,  have  very  sensibly 
adopted  the  mode  of  dressing  especially  for 
comfort  They  have  to  brave  all  kinds  of 
weather,  sometimes  wade  through  mud  and 
slush,  sometimes  face  a  summer  shower  or 
cyclone,  and  they  find  it  more  essential  to 
be  protected  against  these  climatic  changes 
than  to  appear  in  elegant  costume. 

Their  dress  does  not  undergo  so  many 
modifications  as  that  of  ladies,  and  it  is  com 
paratively  easy  for  them  to  wear  apparel  that 
will  be  simple  and  serviceable,  and  at  the 
same  time  in  good  taste. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Introductions  and  Salutations. 


"HE  rules  of  society  do  not  permit  you 
to  claim  acquaintance  with  other  per 
sons  until  you  have  been  properly 
introduced.  Those  who  are  travelling  by 
railway  or  steamship  may  give  themselves  a 
certain  latitude  in  forming  acquaintances. 
Even  this  must  be  exercised  with  all  due 
consideration,  and  must  not  be  practiced  to 
the  point  of  rudeness. 

Letters  of  introduction  are  one  or  the 
common  methods  of  establishing  social  rela 
tions.  The  person  who  is  not  known  to  your 
friend  can  become  known  through  your  kind 
offices.  In  this  way,  very  often,  important 
service  can  be  rendered,  and  if  the  introduc 
tion  should  prove  acceptable  and  the  acquaint 
ance  thus  formed  chould  ripen  into  friendship, 
you  would  not  have  occasion  for  regret 

Persons  who  move  into  new  localities,  as 
from  the  city  to  the  country,  or  from  the 
country  to  the  city,  are  frequently  quite  alone, 
and  are  fortunate  if  they  can  avail  themselves 
of  the  assistance  of  some  friend  in  forming 
the  acquaintance  of  such  persons  in  the 
neighborhood  as  they  would  be  pleased  to 
know.  And  you  should  consider  that  in 
conferring  a  benefit  of  this  description,  you 
are  observing  one  of  the  rules  of  good  society. 

Yet  do  not  lightly  give  or  promise  let 
ters  of  introduction.  Always  remember 
that  when  you  give  letters  of  introduction 
you  lay  yourself  under  an  obligation  to 
those  friends  to  whom  they  may  be  addressed. 
If  they  live  in  any  of  the  great  cities,  you  in 
n  measure  compel  them  to  undergo  the  pen 
alty  of  escorting  the  strangers  whom  you  in 
troduce  to  some  of  those  places  of  public  en 


tertainment  in  which  the  cities  abound.  It» 
any  case,  you  put  your  friends  to  the  expense 
of  inviting  them  to  their  table,  and  may  be 
laying  upon  them  an  unpleasant  burden. 

We  cannot  be  too  cautious  how  we  tax  tht 
time  and  purse  of  a  friend,  or  weigh  too  ser 
iously  the  question  of  mutual  advantage  in 
the  introduction.  Always  ask  yourself 
whether  the  person  introduced  will  be  an  ac 
ceptable  acquaintance  to  the  one  to  whom 
you  present  him ;  and  whether  the  pleasure 
of  knowing  him  will  compensate  for  the  time 
or  money  which  it  may  cost  to  entertain  him* 
If  the  stranger  is  in  any  way  unsuitable  w 
habits  or  temperament,  you  inflict  an  annoy 
ance  iipon  your  friend  instead  of  a  pleasure 
In  questions  of  introduction,  never  oblige 
one  friend  to  the  discomfort  of  another. 

Letters  of  introduction  are  necessary  in  the 
country,  particularly  where  new  comers  entel 
a  new  abode,  and  wish  to  enter  the  best 
society  of  the  place.  In  the  last  case  the  in- 
habitants  should  call  first,  unless  the  nev? 
comer  brings  a  letter  of  introduction,  when 
he  is  the  first  to  call  Instead,  however,  ot 
going  in,  he  sends  his  letter  and  card,  and 
waits  till  this  formal  visit  is  returned.  Nevei 
deliver  a  letter  of  introduction  in  person.  It 
places  you  in  the  most  undignified  position 
imaginable,  and  compels  you  to  wait  while 
it  is  beirg  read,  like  a  footman.  There  f- 
also  another  reason  why  you  should  not  be 
yourself  the  bearer  of  your  introduction :  you 
compel  those  to  whom  you  are  introduced  to 
receive  you,  whether  they  choose  or  not  It 
may  be  that  they  are  sufficiently  ill-bted  to 
take  no  notice  of  the  letter  when  sa*J ;  and 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


in  such  case,  if  you  presented  yourself  with 
it,  they  would  most  probably  receive  you 
with  rudeness. 

It  is  at  all  events  more  polite  on  youi  part 
to  give  them  the  option,  and  perhaps,  more 
pleasant  If  the  receivers  of  the  letter  be 
really  well-bred,  they  will  call  upon  you  or 
leave  cards  the  next  day,  and  you  should 
their  attentions  within  the  week. 


Attentions  to  be  Shown  to  Strangers. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  a  stranger  sends  you 
9  letter  of  introduction,  and  his  or  her  card 
(for  the  law  of  etiquette  here  holds  good  for 
both  sexes),  you  are  bound,  not  only  to  call 
next  day,  but  to  follow  up  that  attention  by 
others.  If  you  are  in  a  position  to  do  so,  the 
next  correct  proceeding  is  to  send  an  invita 
tion  to  dinner.  Should  this  not  be  within 
your  power,  you  can  probably  escort  the 
stranger  to  some  exhibition,  concert,  public 
building,  museum,  or  other  place  likely  to 
prove  interesting  to  a  foreigner  or  provincial 
visitor.  In  short,  etiquette  demands  that 
you  shall  exert  yourself  to  show  kindness  to 
the  stranger,  if  only  out  of  complimer  \  to 
the  friend  who  introduced  him  to  you. 

If  you  invite  strangers  to  dinner  or  tea,  it 
is  a  better  compliment  to  ask  some  others, 
than  to  dine  with  them  alone.  You  are 
thereby  affording  them  an  opportunity  of 
making  other  acquaintances,  and  are  assist 
ing  your  friend  in  still  further  promoting 
the  purpose  for  which  he  gave  the  introduc 
tion  to  yourself.  Be  careful  at  the  same  time 
only  to  ask  such  persons  as  you  are  quite 
sure  are  the  stranger's  own  social  equals. 

What  the  Letter  ShouJd  Contain. 

A  letter  of  introduction  must  be  carefully 
worded,  stating  clearly  the  name  of  the  per- 
ion  introduced,  but  with  as  few  personal 
remarks  as  possible.  It  suffices  in  most  cases, 
to  say  that  so-and-so  is  a  friend  of  yours, 


whom  you  trust  your  other  friend  will  receive 
with  attention.  In  travelling,  one  cannot 
have  too  many  letters  of  introduction.  It  is 
the  custom  in  foreign  towns  for  the  new 
comer  to  call  on  the  residents  first,  a  hint 
that  may  prove  acceptable  to  persons  contem 
plating  a  long  or  short  residence  abroad. 

A  letter  of  introduction  should  be  given 
unsealed,  not  only  because  your  friend  may 
wish  to  know  what  you  have  said,  but  also 
as  a  guarantee  of  your  own  good  faith.  As 
you  should  never  give  such  a  letter  unless 
you  can  speak  highly  of  the  bearer,  this  rule 
of  etiquette  is  easy  to  observe.  By  request 
ing  your  friend  to  fasten  the  envelope  before 
forwarding  the  letter  to  its  destination,  you 
tacitly  give  permission  to  inspect  its  contents. 
Let  your  note  paper  be  of  the  best  quality 
and  of  the  proper  size. 

Indiscriminate  Introductions. 

Regarding  introductions  when  persons 
chance  to  meet,  the  customs  of  this  country 
are  somewhat  free.  There  are  certain  classes 
of  persons  who  always  introduce  their  friends 
to  every  body  they  meet,  whether  indoors  or 
ouc,  in  places  of  business,  or  amusement, 
or  after  services  in  church.  This  custom  is 
not  by  any  means  to  be  commended;  and 
while  you  are  at  liberty  to  make  persons  ac 
quainted  with  one  another,  you  should  exer 
cise  this  liberty  with  the  greatest  caution. 

Care  and  discrimination  should  be  made 
in  making  gentlemen  acquainted  with  each 
other,  and  still  greater  care  in  the  introduc 
tion  of  gentlemen  to  ladies.  It  should  be 
understood  always  by  you  that  the  lady  is 
to  decide  whether  she  desires  the  proposed 
acquaintance  or  not ;  if  she  has  any  objec 
tion  whatever  to  it,  it  is  quite  out  of  place 
for  you  to  thrust  it  upon  her.  This  is  only 
a  becoming  respect  which  should  always  be 
shown  to  the  gentler  sex,  for  any  true  lady 
is  especially  guarded  as  to  the  acquaintance* 


INTRODUCTIONS  AND  SALUTATIONS. 


37 


she  forttia  and  the  gentlemen  with  whom  she 
associates. 

Do  not  forget  that  in  introducing  one  per 
son  to  another,  you  assume  a  social  responsi 
bility  for  the  person  you  introduce,  and  great 
care  should  be  taken  in  giving  this  endorse 
ment.  It  is  possible  for  you  to  inflict  a  pos 
itive  injury  by  introducing  a  man  of  bad 
character  to  a  lady.  If  you  are  not  well  in 
formed  in  respect  to  the  reputation  of  the 
one  for  whom  you  are  aoout  to  become  re 
sponsible,  pause  and  go  no  further.  You 
should  not  be  a  party  to  the  formation  of 
any  relations  which  are  likely  to  have  an  in 
jurious  effect.  The  association  with  a  man 
of  doubtful  character  is  disastrous  to  a  lady's 
reputation,  and  it  is  not  easy  for  her  always 
to  get  rid  of  the  new  formed  acquaintance, 
however  much  she  may  desire  to  do  so. 

Consult  Your  Friend. 

While  it  is  not  needful  in  every  instance 
to  ask  the  permission  of  a  lady  before  mak 
ing  your  friend  acquainted  with  her,  good 
sense  will  teach  you  that  in  very  many  in 
stances  this  is  desirable.  There  may  be  rea 
sons  quite  unknown  to  you  why  she  would 
not  wish  to  make  his  acquaintance,  and  if 
there  are  such  reasons,  you  should  find  them 
out  if  possible,  and  not  compel  her  to  receive 
one  whose  acquaintance  is  not  acceptable. 
Ladies  who  have  confidence  in  persons  in 
troducing  others  will  seldom  make  any  ob- 
•jection ;  if  however,  such  objection  should 
sxist,  they  are  entitled  to  the  benefit  of  it. 

It  is  not  well  ever  to  introduce  a  stranger 
into  the  household  of  a  friend  without  first 
consulting  him  and  ascertaining  whether 
such  introduction  would  be  acceptable.  The 
reasons  for  this  are  plain  enough.  A  person 
may  be  very  agreeable  to  you,  may  have 
that  indefinable  something  about  him  by 
which  a  bond  of  sympathy  and  mutual  un 
derstanding  ia  established,  yet  your  friend 


is  quite  another  individual,  and  if  the 
who  is  so  pleasant  to  you  were  brought  into 
relations  with  him,  there  might  be  friction 
from  the  very  start  Especially  would  this 
be  the  case  where  a  person  who  is  dull  and 
comparatively  uneducated,  whose  stupidity 
is  the  most  conspicuous  trait,  is  thrust  into 
the  household  of  a  gentleman  of  education 
and  refinement,  who  recoils  from  all  dullness, 
and  is  fitted  to  appreciate  that  which  is 
bright  and  sparkling  and  attractive. 

Good  Indorsement. 

If  you  find  in  the  house  of  a  friend  a  per 
son  whose  manners  are  pleasing,  whose  con 
versation  is  agreeable,  whose  acquaintance 
would  be  a  satisfaction  to  you,  you  are  at 
liberty  to  assume  that  his  presence  in  the 
house  of  your  friend  is  a  sufficient  guarantee 
of  his  good  name  and  reputation,  and  in  this 
case  you  can,  without  hesitation,  invite  him 
to  your  own  home.  The  fact  that  you  meet 
him  at  the  house  of  a  friend  is  a  guarantee 
that  he  is  a  proper  person  for  you  to  know. 

Word  the  letter  in  a  brief  but  careful  form. 
Unless  there  are  special  circumstances  in  the 
case,  merely  state  that  the  person  introduced 
is  a  friend  of  yours,  visiting  town  or  country, 
as  the  case  may  be,  and  that  you  trust  your 
friend  will  show  him  any  attention  in  his 
power,  and  so  forth. 

If  the  letter  of  introduction  is  of  a  business 
nature,  the  person  named  in  it  may  take  it 
to  the  individual  to  whom  it  is  addressed. 

Ordinary  letters  of  introduction  should 
either  be  left  at  a  house  or  sent  by  post ;  in 
either  case  they  should  be  accompanied  by  the 
card  of  the  person  named  in  them. 

Having  received  a  letter  of  introduction, 
give  it  immediate  attention.  Either  write 
to  the  person  introduced,  or  call  on  him, 
or  leave  a  card,  the  next  day ;  and  he, 
on  his  part,  should  return  your  attentions 
within  a  week.  The  correct  thing  is  to 


38  RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE 

invite  the  stranger  to  dinner,  and  in  that 
case  it  is  well  to  ask  some  of  your  friends  to 
meet  him,  as  this  is  giving  him  a  further 
introduction  to  society.  Where  this  is  im 
practicable,  it  may  still  be  possible  to  show 
him  some  courtesy,  such  as  inviting  him  to 
accompany  you  to  the  opera,  or  to  a  gallery, 
or  a  concert — anything  choice  or  interesting ; 
In  which  case  you  will  of  course  secure 
tickets  beforehand  for  his  acceptance. 

Should  a  person  request  you  to  give  him 
a  letter  of  introduction,  and  you  do  not  feel 
that  you  would  be  justified  in  giving  it,  by 
all  means  refuse  it.  You  can  do  so  with 
kindness  and  firmness.  Nothing  should 
change  your  decision.  As  a  rule  a  gentle 
man  should  not  give  another  gentleman  a 
letter  of  introduction  to  a  lady.  There  may 
be  circumstances  in  which  a  departure  from 
this  rule  is  necessary. 

Guard  Your  Own  Family. 

There  is  also  a  view  of  this  matter  which 
comes  nearer  home.  The  family  of  every 
man  should  be  well  guarded,  and  he  should 
be  especially  careful  in  introducing  strangers. 
You  ought  to  have  the  utmost  confidence  in 
every  individual  brought  within  the  sacred 
precincts  of  the  household  circle,  for,  other 
wise,  you  may  be  placing  the  morals  of  your 
family  in  jeopardy,  and  great  injury  may  be 
the  result. 

There  are  certain  forms  of  introduction 
which  should  always  be  observed,  and  will  be 
attended  to  by  every  person  who  thoroughly 
understands  the  spirit  and  rules  of  etiquette. 
You  should  introduce  a  gentleman  to  a  lady, 
an  inferior  to  a  superior,  an  ordinary  person 
to  a  distinguished  one,  and  a  young  man  to  an 
old  one.  You  should  be  very  careful  to  speak 
the  names  distinctly.  If  either  person  fails 
to  understand  the  name  of  the  other,  he  may 
ask  it  When  introducing  a  gentleman  to  a 
(ady,  the  party  making  the  presentation  will 


FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 

say,  bowing  to  each  as  the  name  is  spoken, 
"  Miss  Belmont,  allow  me  to  introduce  (or  pre 
sent)  to  you  my  frieud,  Mr.  Taylor :  Mr.  Tay 
lor,  Miss  Belmont."  A  young  lady  may  be 
introduced  to  a  very  old  gentleman ;  beauty 
thus  paying  a  tribute  to  age. 

Forms  To  Be  Observed. 

In  presenting  a  company  of  several  to  one 
person,  you  should  mention  the  name  of  the 
single  person  only  once,  but  call  the  name  of 
each  of  the  others  distinctly,  bowing  to  each 
as  his  or  her  name  is  mentioned.  Thus, 
"  Mr.  Anderson,  allow  me  to  introduce  Mr. 
Barry,  Mr.  Phillips,  Mr.  Hathaway,  Mr. 
Welch,  Mr.  Dean. " 

Always  mention  the  name  in  introducing 
members  of  your  family.  Say,  "  My  father, 
Mr.  Simpson,"  "My  daughter,  Miss  Simp 
son,"  or  "Miss  Ellen  Simpson."  Your  wife 
should  be  introduced  simply  as  "  Mrs.  Simp 
son." 

In  introducing  persons  with  titles,  the  ti 
tle  should  always  be  distinctly  mentioned. 
Thus,  you  should  say,  in  presenting  a  cler 
gyman  to  a  Senator  of  the  United  States, 
"  Senator  Vance,  allow  me  to  introduce  to 
you  my  friend,  the  Reverend  Doctor  (if  he  is 
a  Doctor  of  Divinity)  Morton.  Dr.  Morton 
is  the  rector  of  St.  Andrews  Church,  Wash 
ington."  Then  turning  to  Dr.  Morton,  you 
should  say,  "Senator  Vance  represents  the 
State  of  North  Carolina  in  the  Senate  of  the 
United  States."  Upon  introducing  stran 
gers,  it  is  well  to  add  some  pleasant  remarks, 
which  will  serve  to  put  them  at  their  ease 
and  start  the  conversation  between  them.  It 
is  proper  upon  being  introduced  to  a  person, 

to  say,  "  I  am  happy  to  meet  you,  Mr. ;" 

or  "  I  am  glad  to  make  your  acquaintance." 

If  a  lady,  or  a  person  in  a  superior  position, 
wishes  to  know  a  gentleman  or  an  inferior, 
you  have  a  right  to  infer  that  the  latter  will 
not  decline  the  honor. 


INTRODUCTIONS  AND  SALUTATIONS. 


39 


The  custom  of  shaking  hands  upon  being 
introduced  is  the  rule  in  this  country.  It  is 
a  matter  of  taste  among  gentlemen.  If  a 
hand  is  offered,  it  is  rude  to  reject  it.  It 
should  be  accepted  cordially.  As  a  general 
thing,  however,  introductions  should  be  ac 
knowledged  by  a  bow.  A  gentleman  should 
always  lift  his  hat  in  acknowledgment  of  an 
introduction  to  another  gentleman,  or  to  a 
lady  on  the  street  A  single  lady  should 
never  give  her  hand  to  a  gentleman  in  such 
a  case ;  a  married  lady  may  do  so  without 
impropriety. 

Casual  Meetings. 

Persons  meeting  at  the  houses  of  friends 
when  making  morning  calls  need  not  be  in 
troduced  to  each  other,  and  certainly  should 
not  be,  unless  it  is  known  that  such  intro 
ductions  will  be  mutually  agreeable. 

Nor  should  persons  who  have  accidentally 
met  in  this  manner,  without  being  intro 
duced,  bow  or  in  any  way  express  recogni 
tion  should  they  afterwards  meet. 

If,  when  walking  in  the  street  with  a 
friend,  you  meet  another,  it  is  not  necessary, 
in  fact,  it  is  improper,  to  introduce  them. 
If,  however,  you  meet  a  lady  who  evinces  a 
desire  to  stop  and  speak,  your  friend  should 
stop  with  you,  and  may  be  introduced  in  a 
formal  manner ;  but  such  introduction  does 
not  warrant  him  in  considering  himself  the 
lady's  acquaintance. 

Relations,  such  as  a  sister,  a  son,  or  a 
brother,  may  be  introduced  to  friends  casu 
ally  met,  without  ceremony  or  hesitation. 

At  an  evening  party  it  is  the  host's  or 
hostess's  duty  to  make  their  guests  acquainted 
with  each  other.  In  England,  this  is  dis 
pensed  with.  Your  name  is  announced  as 
you  enter  the  room.  You  bow  to  your  host 
ess  and  the  company,  and  may  then  address 
any  one  in  the  company.  In  this  country 
guests  may  properly  introduce  each  other. 


Persons  unfriendly  to  each  ocher,  meeting 
at  the  house  of  a  friend,  must  treat  each 
other  with  perfect  courtesy,  and  give  no  sign 
of  their  quarrel. 

A  person  making  a  visit  to  your  house 
should  be  introduced  to  every  caller. 

In  making  introductions,  act  in  a  grace  hi  1 
and  easy  manner.  It  will  serve  to  set  your 
friends  at  ease. 

A  gentleman  should  always  promptly  of 
fer  his  services  to  a  lady  in  need  of  them, 
whether  he  knows  her  or  not.  He  should 
approach  her,  raise  his  hat,  bow,  and  ask 
permission  to  assist  her.  A  true  lady  will  al 
ways  accept  such  a  proffer  with  frank  cour 
tesy.  Her  acceptance  does  not  give  the 
gentleman  any  claim  to  her  acquaintance, 
nor  oblige  her  to  recognize  him  afterwards 
without  a  formal  introduction. 

To  ignore  a  person  to  whom  you  have 
been  properly  introduced  is  the  height  of  ill- 
breeding.  He  may  not  be  pleasant  to  you, 
but  he  has  a  claim  upon  your  courtesy ;  and 
it  is  due  to  your  own  dignity  that  you  should 
recognize  it,  and  act  towards  him  accord 
ingly. 

Salutations. 

A  well-bred  person  is  at  once  known  by 
his  or  her  form  of  salutation.  In  meeting  a 
friend  upon  the  street,  or  in  company,  you 
should  make  your  salutation  quietly,  but 
cordially  and  with  dignity,  always  paying 
the  highest  respect  to  the  person  saluted. 
Always  salute  a  lady  by  raising  the  hat  and 
making  a  formal  bow.  In  company,  the 
head  being  uncovered,  the  bow  alone  is  your 
salutation ;  but  it  should,  in  either  case,  be  a 
decided  inclination  of  the  head  and  body, 
not  a  mere  nod. 

In  this  country,  among  ladies,  kissing  is  a 
common  mode  of  salutation,  even  on  the 
street.  Gentlemen  generally  shake  hands, 
or  in  passing  each  other  bow,  or  make  a 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


courteous  motion  of  the  hand.  Even  where 
you  are  not  on  good  terms  with  a  person,  it 
is  courteous  to  bow  to  him.  Should  he  fail 
to  return  the  bow  the  offence  is  his,  and  you 
have  lost  nothing  by  your  politeness. 

A  gentleman  in  meeting  a  lady  acquain 
tance  should  remove  his  cigar  from  his 
mouth  and  hold  it  down  by  his  side  before 
raising  his  hat  to  her.  Above  all,  never 
smoke  while  walking  or  riding  with  a  lady. 
She  may  not  object  to  it,  but  that  does  not 
pardon  your  rudeness. 

A  young  lady  should  treat  an  elderly  per 
son,  either  man  or  woman,  with  the  same 
deference  she  expects  at  the  hands  of  a 
gentleman. 

The  lady  should  bow  first  in  meeting  a 
gentleman  on  the  street  It  is  her  privilege 
to  do  so,  as  she  thus  shows  whether  she  de 
sires  to  continue  his  acquaintance  or  not  A 
failure  on  her  part  to  bow  first  excuses  the 
gentleman  from  saluting  her.  Among  very 
intimate  friends  either  party  may  salute  first 

In  riding,  a  gentleman  raises  his  hat  with 
his  right  hand,  as  the  left  is  occupied  with 
the  reins. 

When  two  or  more  gentlemen,  walking 
on  the  street,  meet  a  lady  who  is  known  to 
one  only,  all  should  raise  their  hats  and  bow. 
Those  unacquainted  with  the  lady  thus  show 
their  respect  for  their  friend's  friend. 

In  shaking  hands  do  not  give  your  hand 


coldly  or  listlessly.  Shake  hands  with  a 
warm,  cordial  grasp.  A  failure  to  do  so  is 
bad  manners,  and  will  disgust  the  other  per 
son.  Never  give  a  single  finger,  or  two  fin 
gers.  Give  the  whole  hand,  whenever  you 
offer  it 

The  right  hand  shouli  always  be  offered 
unless  disabled.  Where  both  parties  wear 
gloves,  it  is  not  necessary  to  remove  them. 
Where  one  only  is  gloved,  and  the  removal 
would  cause  an  awkward  pause,  offer  the 
hand  promptly,  with  the  remark,  "Excuse 
my  glove."  Kid  gloves  are  not  expected  to 
be  removed,  as  thr  operation  requires  too 
much  time. 

A  gentleman  .  houid  not  bow  from  a  win 
dow  to  a  lady  in  the  street.  A  lady  may  do 
so  to  a  gentleman,  in  which  case  he  musf 
return  her  bow. 

Avoid  nicknames  in  salutations.  Address 
a  person  either  by  his  title,  or  by  his  or  her 
Christian  name. 

In  speaking  to  your  wife  in  company  or 

in  public,  address  her  as  "Mrs. ."     The 

wife  should  likewise  address  her  husband  as 

"  Mr. ."     To  style  each  other  "  My  dear," 

"  My  darling,"  "  My  beloved,"  or  "  My  duck," 
in  public,  is  simply  to  become  ridiculous, 
Do  not  address  each  other  by  the  Christian 
name  in  such  cases ;  nor  by  the  initial  letter, 
as  "Mr.  P.,"  "Mrs.  C."  Use  the  full  name 
with  the  prefix  "Mr.,"  "Mrs." 


CHAPTER  V. 


Calls  and  Visits. 


IT  IS  one  of  the  exacting  rules  of  good 
society  that  calls  shall  be  made  upon 
your  acquaintances  and  friends.  Per 
sons  must  do  this  who  expect  to  maintain 
with  one  another  social  relations,  and  this 
is  a  rule  which  is  observed  in  all  enlightened 
countries  and  in  all  grades  of  society.  The 
call  and  visit  are  fashionable.  There  is  a 
class  of  people  who  have  a  great  many  dis 
paraging  remarks  to  make  concerning  fash 
ionable  society,  and  appear  to  think  that  an 
excessive  merit  belongs  to  themselves  be 
cause  they  are  not  fashionable  oeople.  Very 
likely  they  cannot  be  fashionable,  not  hav 
ing  the  education,  or  the  social  position,  or 
the  breeding  required.  It  is  not  with  any 
good  grace  that  such  persons  declaim  against 
fashionable  society.  Empty,  fashionable  so 
ciety  is  weak,  uninteresting,  and  only  to  be 
despised;  but  good,  cultured  society,  main 
taining  its  dignity  by  certain  rules  and  cus 
toms  which  are  convenient  and  serviceable, 
is  the  best  society  in  the  world. 

It  does  not  follow  that  everything  is  empty 
and  vain  because  a  certain  fashion  goes  with 
it.  Why  not  go  contrary  to  all  customs, 
and,  when  men  generally  have  their  hair 
cut  short,  wear  yours  down  on  your  shoul 
ders?  And  when  men  dress  according  to 
civilized  society,  why  not  go  about  in  the 
'garb  of  a  wild  Indian?  Wlien  ladies  wear 
Very  sensible,  short  dresses  in  the  street,  why 
not  come  out  with  a  train  three  yards  long, 
and  turn  yourself  into  a  street-sweeper  ? 

There  may  be  silly  fashions ;  these  you  do 
not  need  to  follow.  This  work  commends 
good,  sensible  social  customs  which  make 


for  the  peace  and  enjoyment  of  society. 

of  these  customs  is  that  of  calling  and  visit' 

ing. 

A  lady  is  under  an  obligation  to  call  on 
all  her  female  acquaintances  at  stated  times. 
These  calls  are  formal  in  their  nature,  and 
are  generally  short.  The  conversation  is 
devoted  to  society  news,  the  gossip  of  the 
day  and  kindred  subjects.  In  the  large 
cities  of  the  Eastern  States,  such  calls  are 
made  from  eleven  in  the  morning  until  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  In  other  parts  of 
the  country,  where  the  dinner  hour  is  in  the 
middle  of  the  day  or  early  in  the  afternoon, 
they  are  generally  made  from  nine  to  twelve 
o'clock,  and  are  termed  morning  calls,  as 
"  morning  "  is  supposed  to  mean  any  time 
before  dinner. 

Make  Your  Call  Brief. 

The  morning  call  should  be  brief.  From 
ten  to  twenty  minutes  is  usually  sufficient 
It  should  never  be  prolonged  over  half  an 
hour. 

A  lady,  in  making  a  formal  call,  shouk 
never  lay  aside  her  bonnet  or  shawl,  as  if 
she  intended  to  spend  the  day. 

A  gentleman  making  a  morning  call  must 
retain  his  hat  in  his  hand.  His  umbrella 
may  be  left  in  the  hall,  but  not  his  cane. 

Should  a  gentleman  accompany  a  lady  on 
a  morning  call,  he  must  assist  her  up  the 
steps  to  the  door  of  the  house,  ring  the  bell, 
and  follow  her  into  the  reception-room.  He 
must  wait  patiently  until  the  lady  rises  to 
take  leave,  and  accompany  her. 

Avoid  subjects  calculated  to  lead  to  a  pro 
longed  conversation.  Time  your  visit  pro- 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


perly,  and  do  not  take  out  your  watch  and 
say  it  is  time  to  go.  Rise  quietly,  and  take 
your  leave  with  a  few  pleasant  remarks. 

A  lady  engaged  upon  fancy  work  of  any 
kind  is  not  obliged  to  lay  it  aside  in  receiving 
the  call  of  an  intimate  acquaintance.  In 
formal  calls  a  lady  should  devote  herself 
entirely  to  her  guests. 

Should  a  lady  visitor  take  her  leave,  a. 
gentleman,  if  present,  should  rise,  and  offer 
to  conduct  her  to  her  carriage.  The  offer 
will  not  often  be  accepted,  but  if  it  is,  do  not 
forget  to  return  and  pay  your  respects  '  "> 
your  hostess  before  quitting  the  house. 

Should  other  callers  be  announced  during 
your  visit,  wait  until  the  bustle  attending 
their  entrance  is  over.  Then  rise  quietly  and 
take  your  leave,  bowing  to  the  new-comers. 
Your  hostess  is  not  obliged  to  introduce  you 
to  her  other  visitors,  and  you  should  take  no 
offence  at  her  failure  to  do  so.  Do  not  make 
it  appear  that  your  departure  is  on  account 
of  the  new  arrivals. 

When  a  call  is  ended  it  is  customary 
among  the  best  bred  people  to  ring  for  a 
servant  to  open  the  front  door  for  a  visitor. 
Some  persons  prefer  to  attend  visitors  to  the 
door  themselves ;  and  this  should  be  done  if 
a  servant  is  not  called  upon.  It  is  not  court 
eous  to  let  a  visitor  find  his  or  her  way  out 
of  your  house  unattended. 

In  making  a  call,  if  the  lady  called  upon 
is  not  at  home,  leave  your  card  ;  and  if  there 
are  several  ladies  staying  there  whom  you 
desire  to  see,  request  the  servant  to  present 
your  compliments  to  them  severally.  Should 
you  not  have  a  card,  leave  your  name  with 
the  servant. 

Gules  for  Gentlemen. 

The  circumstances  under  which  gentlemen 
may  make  formal  morning  calls  are  limited. 
They  may  do  so  to  express  congratulations, 
sympathy,  or  condolence ;  to  pay  their  re 


spects  to  a  friend  who  has  just  returned  froiu 
a  foreign  country  or  a  protracted  visit ;  or  to 
pay  their  respects  to  ladies  who  have  ac 
cepted  their  escort  to  parties  or  places  of 
amusement.  In  the  last  mentioned  instance 
the  call  should  not  be  delayed  more  than  a 
day.  A  gentleman  may  call  upon  an  ac-, 
quaintance  to  whom  he  has  presented  letters 
of  introduction,  or  to  return  thanks  for  some 
favor  received.  There  are  other  cases  which 
must  be  governed  by  circumstances  and  the 
good  sense  of  the  person. 

Congratulations. 

You  may  make  visits  of  congratulation 
upon  the  'occurrence  of  any  happy  or  for 
tunate  event  in  the  family  of  a  friend — such 
as  a  marriage,  a  birth,  or  the  inheritance  of 
wealth.  Such  visits  should  be  made  in  the 
morning. 

You  should  not  defer  a  visit  of  condolence 
beyond  the  next  week  after  a  death  occurs  in 
a  family.  Among  friends  such  visits  are  re 
garded  as  an  imperative  duty,  except  where 
contagious  diseases  render  them  dangerous. 

Ladies  should  make  their  morning  calls  in 
simple  toilette,  and  not  in  very  rich  dresses. 
Gentlemen  wear  morning  dress. 

In  calling  upon  a  person  living  or  staying 
temporarily  at  a  hotel,  wait  in  the  parlor  and 
send  up  your  card.  Even  intimate  friends 
should  observe  this  rule.  Gentlemen  may 
wait  in  the  office  or  hall  of  the  hotel  while 
the  waiter  takes  up  their  card. 

In  going  abroad,  or  on  a  long  journey, 
you  should  either  call  in  person  upon  all 
your  friends  or  send  cards,  with  the  initials 
P.  P.  C.  marked  in  the  corner.  These  stand 
for  "  Pour  Prendre  Conge,  "  and  mean  "  To 
Take  Leave.  "  Some  write  the  English 
words  out  in  full.  Upon  returning  home 
your  friends  must  first  call  upon  you.  You 
may  with  propriety  drop  the  acquaintance  of 
those  who  neglect  to  d^>  so. 


CALLS  AND  VISITS. 


43 


You  should  not  make  a  visit  of  friendship 
anless  you  have  a  formal  or  a  general  invita 
tion.  To  drop  in  upon  your  friends  at  all 
times  is  to  render  yourself  a  bore.  Never 
solicit  an  invitation,  either  by  word  or  act. 
Wait  until  you  are  asked,  and  your  presence 
will  be  doubly  welcome. 

Visits  of  Friendship. 

Visits  of  friendship  are  conducted  by  no 
particular  rules  of  etiquette,  as  it  is  to  be  pre 
sumed  that  intimate  friends,  or  relatives,  un 
derstand  each  other's  tastes  and  peculiarities, 
and  will  conduct  themselves  in  a  manner 
mutually  agreeable.  Such  visits  may  occa 
sionally  be  made  under  misapprehension,  be 
cause  there  are  many  people  in  the  world  who 
are  extremely  fond  of  visiting  and  will  often 
persuade  themselves  that  their  society  is 
coveted,  when  in  fact  they  are  not  partic 
ularly  welcome.  Persons  of  any  degree  of 
sagacity  can  easily  distinguish  the  free  and 
hearty  welcome  from  the  polite  and  easy 
grace  which  duty  makes  imperative. 

With  intimate  friends  all  strict  ceremony 
can  be  dispensed  with,  but  yet  there  are  cer 
tain  liberties  which  you  may  enjoy  at  home, 
that  are  not  exactly  proper  to  take  in  the 
house  of  a  friend  or  relative.  Criticising  the 
conduct  of  servants,  or  children,  or  the  acts 
of  any  member  of  the  household,  or  the  do 
mestic  management  generally,  is  in  very  bad 
taste,  though  it  may  be  done  with  the  ut 
most  good  nature.  No  well-bred  persons 
will  ever  make  remarks  of  any  kind  upon  the 
habits,  faults  or  foibles  of  a  family  where 
they  are  paying  a  visit  of  friendship  ;  and  to 
drop  these  remarks  after  they  have  left  only 
shows  that  they  were  not  deserving  the  con 
fidence  and  attentions  they  received.  In  such 
visits  you  should  strictly  apply  the  rule  to 
do  nothing  by  act,  word  or  deed  that  may 
cause  a  disagreeable  feeling  on  the  part  of 
your  entertainer ;  which  rule,  as  we  have 


before  explained,  is  the  fundamental  prin 
ciple  of  gentility. 

Avoid  all  ungraceful  or  awkward  positions 
and  all  lounging  in  making  calls.  Sit  up 
right  at  ease,  and  be  graceful  and  dignified 
in  your  manners. 

Do  not  handle  any  of  the  table  ornaments 
in  the  room  in  which  you  are  received.  They 
may  be  admired  but  not  handled. 

Eveninar  Calls. 

Where  a  lady  has  appointed  a  certain  even 
ing  for  receiving  calls,  it  is  best  to  call  then, 
and  not  at  other  times. 

Formal  calls  may  be  made  in  the  evening, 
but  never  earlier  than  nine  o'clock,  and  should 
not  be  prolonged  later  than  ten  o'clock.  In 
making  such  a  call  a  gentleman  should  carry 
his  hat,  gloves,  and  cane  with  him  into  the 
parlor  and  hold  them  in  his  hands,  unless 
requested  by  the  hostess  to  lay  them  aside 
and  spend  the  evening. 

In  making  an  informal  evening  call  a  lady 
may  take  a  gentleman  with  her.  She  pre 
sents  him  to  the  hostess,  who  introduces  him 
to  the  other  guests,  if  there  are  any  present 
A  gentleman  in  making  an  informal  evening 
call  may  leave  his  hat,  cane,  etc.,  in  the  hall, 
and  a  lady  may  lay  aside  her  bonnet  and 
wraps. 

The  mistress  of  the  house  usually  receives 
the  visitors.  At  evening  parties  she  will  be 
assisted  by  her  husband  or  some  other  gen 
tleman.  The  reception  should  be  performed 
in  an  easy,  quiet  and  self-possessed  manner, 
and  without  unnecessary  ceremony.  It  is 
customary  in  some  places  to  announce  the 
names  of  guests  as  they  enter  the  room. 
The  host  or  hostess  may  then  present  them 
to  other  guests  to  whom  they  may  be  stran 
gers. 

When  any  one  enters  the  room,  whether 
announced  or  not,  the  host  or  hostess  should 


44 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


rise  at  once,  advance  toward  him,  welcome 
him,  and  request  him  to  be  seated.  If  it  is  a 
young  man,  offer  him  an  arm-chair,  or  a 
stuffed  one ;  if  an  elderly  man,  insist  upon 
his  accepting  the  arm-chair ;  if  a  lady,  beg 
her  to  be  seated  upon  the  sofa.  If  the  master 
of  the  house  receives  the  visitors,  he  will  take 
a  chair  and  place  himself  at  a  little  distance 
from  them  ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  the  mis 
tress,  and  if  she  is  intimate  with  the  lady 
who  visits  her,  she  will  place  herself  near  her. 

Tokens  of  Respect. 

If  several  ladies  come  at  once,  we  give  the 
most  honorable  place  to  the  one  who,  from 
age  or  other  considerations  is  most  entitled 
to  respect.  In  winter  the  most  honorable 
places  are  those  at  the  corners  of  the  fire 
place,  if  you  have  a  fire  in  it.  If  the  visitor 
is  a  stranger,  when  the  master  or  mistress  of 
the  house  rises,  any  person  who  may  be 
already  in  the  room  should  do  the  same, 
unless  the  company  is  a  large  one.  When 
any  of  the  company  withdraw,  the  master  or 
mistress  of  the  house  should  conduct  them 
as  far  as  the  door.  But  whoever  the  person 
may  be  who  departs,  if  we  have  other  com 
pany,  we  may  dispense  with  conducting  them 
farther  than  the  door  of  the  room. 

Upon  arriving  at  a  house  where  you  wish 
to  pay  an  evening  call,  should  you  find  a 
small  party  assembled  there,  present  yourself 
precisely  as  though  you  had  been  invited. 
After  a  short  while  you  may  take  your  leave, 
explaining  that  you  only  intended  to  make 
a  brief  call. 

A  gentleman  should  not  seat  himself  on 
the  sofa  beside  his  hostess  unless  invited  to 
do  so. 

It  is  vulgar  to  make  a  display  of  wealth 
in  calling  upon  persons  in  reduced  circum 
stances. 

New-comers  into  a  neighborhood  should 
not  make  the  first  calls. 


A  lady  should  not  call  upon  a  gentlemar 
unless  on  business. 

In  making  a  formal  call  a  gentleman  should 
not  sit  with  his  legs  crossed. 

Do  not  prolong  an  evening  visit.  It  is  apt 
to  become  tiresome  even  to  your  most  inti 
mate  friends. 

Should  your  friend  have  a  guest  on  a  visit 
to  her,  call  as  soon  as  possible.  Such  calls 
should  be  returned  without  delay. 

Should  you  find  a  lady  on  the  point  of 
going  out  when  you  make  your  call,  make  it 
as  brief  as  possible  in  order  to  leave  her  at 
liberty  to  carry  out  her  plans. 

When  you  have  risen  to  go,  do  not  delay 
your  departure. 

When  you  are  prevented  from  attending  a 
dinner  party,  or  social  gathering,  call  upon 
the  person  giving  it  without  delay,  and  ex 
press  your  regret  for  your  absence. 

In  the  country  calls  are  more  prolonged 
and  less  formal  than  in  the  city. 

Protracted  Visits. 

With  regard  to  visits  of  a  day  or  more  it  is 
the  universal  custom  in  England,  and  if 
gradually  coming  into  vogue  in  this  country 
to  invite  your  friend  to  visit  you  for  a  speci 
fied  length  of  time.  This  enables  your  guest 
to  know  that  he  is  not  inconveniencing  yob 
by  remaining  too  long,  and  allows  you  to 
make  arrangements  for  the  entertainment  oi 
other  friends.  This  is  a  most  sensible  cus 
tom,  and  cannot  be  too  highly  commended 

In  visiting  a  city  where  a  friend  resides  it 
is  best  to  go  to  a  hotel,  although  you  may 
have  a  general  invitation  from  your  friend  to 
make  his  house  your  home.  You  can  make 
a  call  upon  him  as  soon  as  you  please,  and 
should  he  then  urge  you  to  accept  his  hospi 
tality  you  may  do  so  with  propriety. 

You  should  always  write  to  inform  even 
a  relative  or  most  intimate  friend  of  your  ia- 


CALLS  AND  VISITS. 


4S 


tended  visit  and  the  probable  time  of  your 
arrival. 

You  should  answer  a  written  invitation  to 
visit  a  friend,  as  promptly  as  possible,  and 
Btate  the  time  when  you  may  be  expected. 

Where  no  time  is  specified  by  your  host  or 
hostess  as  to  the  duration  of  your  visit,  you 
should  not  prolong  it  over  a  week.  A 
shorter  time  is  better.  You  should  take  an 
early  occasion  of  stating  how  long  you  ex 
pect  to  remain. 

Attentions  due  to  Your  Host. 

Conform  your  habits  to  those  of  the 
family  in  which  you  are  visiting;  give  no 
trouble  that  can  be  avoided  ;  and  accept  the 
hospitality  offered  you  heartily  and  with 
well-bred  grace. 

You  should  make  arrangements  for  having 
your  washing  done  at  your  own  expense  in 
making  a  long  visit  Remember,  that  to  ask 
your  hostess  to  have  it  done  by  her  servants 
is  to  increase  their  labor,  and  to  render  them 
dissatisfied. 

A  lady  visiting  in  a  family  should  not  re 
ceive  the  attentions  of  a  gentleman  who  is 
objectionable  to  her  host  or  hostess.  Neither 
should  she  receive  too  many  calls  from  gen 
tlemen. 

Do  not  invite  a  friend  who  may  call  upon 
you  to  remain  to  a  meal.  Such  an  invitation 
must  come  from  the  host  or  hostess. 

A  lady  should  decline  an  invitation  to  a 
dinner  or  party,  which  does  not  include  her 
hostess.  A  gentleman  inviting  a  lady  visit 
ing  in  a  family  to  accompany  him  to  a  place 
of  amusement,  or  upon  an  excursion,  should 
include  the  younger  ladies  of  the  family  in  his 
invitation.  They  may  decline  or  not,  accord 
ing  to  circumstances. 

When  a  friend  informs  you  of  his  or  her 
intended  visit,  and  the  probable  time  of  their 
arrival,  you  should  have  their  room  ready  for 


their  reception.  It  should  be  well  warmed 
in  cold  weather,  cooled  and  aired  in  summer, 
and  provided  with  all  the  ordinary  conven 
iences  of  the  toilette,  and  any  other  articles 
that  may  minister  to  the  comfort  of  your 
guest. 

Entertaining  the  Guest. 

When  you  expect  a  lady  guest,  some  male 
member  of  the  family  should  meet  her  at  the 
cars,  steamer,  or  other  place  of  arrival  in 
your  city  or  neighborhood.  He  should  look 
after  her  baggage,  and  make  such  arrange 
ments  as  will  enable  her  to  reach  your  house 
quickly  and  with  comfort 

Without  breaking  up  the  regular  routine 
of  your  household  or  business,  you  should 
arrange  your  affairs  so  as  to  devote  the  most 
time  to  your  guest.  You  should  arrange  re 
ceptions,  entertainments,  and  excursions  of 
various  kinds,  if  possible,  and  should  always 
show  her  the  places  and  things  of  note  in 
your  vicinity.  You  should  do  all  this  unob 
trusively  and  make  your  guest  feel  that  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  you  to  thus  increase  her  enjoy 
ment  of  her  visit. 

Upon  the  departure  of  your  guest,  accom 
pany  him  or  her  to  the  cars  or  boat,  and 
remain  until  the  conveyance  has  begun  the 
journey,  taking  leave  of  your  guest  with 
cordiality. 

A  true  lady  or  gentleman  will  always 
treat  with  kindness  and  courtesy  the  servants 
of  the  family  in  which  they  may  be  visiting. 
In  taking  leave,  you  may,  if  you  wish,  remem 
ber  them  by  some  gratuity. 

Do  not  unduly  praise  other  places  at  which 
you  may  have  visited.  Your  hostess  may, 
think  you  wish  to  contrast  her  establishment!' 
with  the  one  so  praised,  to  her  disadvantage. 

You  may  with  propriety  make  simple 
presents  to  the  children  of  the  family.  Costly 
or  lavish  gifts  place  your  entertainers  under 
an  obligation  which  they  may  not  be  able  to 


46  RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS, 

return,  and  therefore  would  not  desire  to  in 


cur. 

Do  not  outdress  the  members  of  the  femily 
in  which  you  are  a  guest,  especially  in  at 
tending  an  entertainment  or  place  of  amuse 
ment  with  them. 

Enter  heartily  into  the  plans  that  are 
made  for  your  entertainment  or  amusement 
You  should  never  permit  your  host  or  hostess 
to  feel  that  he  or  she  has  disappointed  you 
in  their  efforts  to  add  to  your  enjoyment. 

Upon  returning  home  after  a  visit,  write 
immediately  to  your  host  or  hostess,  an 
nouncing  your  safe  arrival ;  and  be  careful 
to  send  kind  messages  to  each  member  of 
the  family,  mentioning  all  by  name. 

Visiting  Cards. 

In  the  selection  of  cards  great  taste  should 
be  exercised.  The  material  should  be  a  thin, 
fine  board  of  paper.  The  size  and  shape  are 
regulated  by  the  prevailing  fashion.  The 
color  should  always  be  pure  white.  Tinted 
or  colored  cards  are  an  abomination. 
'  A  gentleman's  card  should  bear  only  his 
name  and  address.  A  lady's  card  should 
have  the  word  "  Mrs."  or  "Miss"  prefixed  to 
her  name.  .  The  eldest  unmarried  daughter 
of  a  family  should  have  her  card  read  simply 
"Miss  Newton,"  not  "Miss  Lilian  Newton." 
The  younger  sisters,  if  unmarried,  should 
have  their  Christian  names  on  their  cards. 

Professional  titles  may  appear  upon  the 
card,  as  "Thomas  Thomas,  M.  D.,"  or 
"Doctor  Thomas  Thomas,"  "Rev.  Tobias 


Pounder,"  or  "  Rev.  Tobias  Pounder,  D.  D.n 
In  England  a  gentleman  without  a  title  pre= 
fixes  "Mr."  to  his  name,  as  "Mr.  Edward 
Holland. "  In  the  United  States  this  practice 
varies,  but  the  best  etiquette  unquestionably 
demands  the  prefix  "Mr." 

A  card  left  for  you  during  your  illness 
should  be  answered  by  a  call  as  soon  as  your 
recovery  will  permit. 

Should  you  send  a  card  to  a  person  who 
is  ill,  the  bearer  should  always  make  a  ver 
bal  inquiry  as  to  your  friend's  condition  oi 
health. 

The  most  perfectly  tasteful  card  is  an  en< 
graved  one.  The  printed  card  comes  next; 
then  the  written  card.  The  fashion  as  to 
letters  changes,  but  a  plain  script  or  old  Eng 
lish  text,  well  engraved,  is  always  neat  and 
in  good  taste. 

In  making  calls  upon  an  intimate  friend 
it  is  not  necessary  to  send  your  card  in.  The 
simple  announcement  of  your  name  is  suffi 
cient.  The  use  of  a  card  always  has  an  air 
of  formality  about  it  Where  persons  are  on 
cordial  terms,  and  are  visiting  back  and  forth 
frequently,  a  card  can  very  well  be  dispensed 
with. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  a  card  with 
your  address  is  a  very  handy  way  of  making 
known  your  place  of  residence.  Persons 
will  sometimes  want  this,  and  if  they  have 
it  printed  and  right  before  their  eyes,  there 
cannot  be  any  mistake  about  it  Always  be 
supplied  with  cards. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Evening  Parties. 


SOCIETY  has  always  had  its 
evening  gatherings,  sometimes  of  a 
private,  and  sometimes  of  a  public, 
character.  Enough  has  been  said  to  guard 
light-headed  persons  against  making  fashion 
the  end  and  aim  of  life;  they  do  not  need 
to  make  this  the  all-absorbing  topic  of  con 
versation,  nor  the  object  toward  which  all 
their  energies  are  bent  Yet  it  is  true  that 
in  all  ages,  and  among  all  nations,  social  ob 
servances  and  gatherings  have  occupied  an 
important  place. 

This  has  always  been  true  of  our  own 
country,  although  it  may  be  said  that  elab 
orate  entertainments,  involving  a  great 
amount  of  dress  and  expense,  have  not  been 
so  common  with  us  as  in  older  countries. 
Having  no  aristocracy  of  blood  or  wealth, 
we  form  our  own  aristocracy  of  education, 
refinement  and  good  society.  To  be  able  to 
appear  well  upon  social  occasions,  such  as 
evening  balls  and  parties,  is  considered  an 
accomplishment,  and  no  one  who  does  not 
possess  it,  is  entitled  to  the  distinguished 
consideration  of  persons  who  indulge  in 
fashionable  pleasures. 

It  is  in  the  party  or  ball-room  that  society 
is  on  its  very  best  behavior.  Everything 
there  is  regulated  according  to  the  strict 
iode  of  good  breeding ;  and  as  any  departure 
from  this  code  becomes  a  grave  offence,  it  is 
indispensable  that  the  etiquette  of  the  ball 
room  be  thoroughly  mastered. 

Balls  are  of  two  kinds,  public  and  private. 

The  etiquette  of  public  balls  is  almost 
Identical  with  that  of  private  assemblies  of 


the  same  kind,  and  it  will  be  sufficient  t& 
observe  here,  that  those  attending  them 
should,  if  possible,  form  their  own  parties 
beforehand.  Ladies,  especially,  will  find  the 
comfort  and  advantage  of  this. 

The  rule  as  to  giving  private  balls  or  pan 
ties  is  this:  that  ball-goers  should  make  one 
return  during  the  season. 

In  giving  this,  you  may  imitate  the  vulgas 
among  the  higher  classes,  and  have  8. 
"crush,"  as  it  is  called ;  but  it  is  in  far  better 
taste  to  restrict  the  number  of  invitations, 
so  that  all  the  guests  may  be  fairly  accom 
modated.  The  invitations  should,  however, 
be  slightly  in  excess  of  the  number  counted 
on,  as  it  is  rare,  indeed,  that  everyone  accepts. 
One-third  more  than  the  room  will  hold 
may  generally  be  asked  with  safety.  It  is 
desirable  to  secure  the  attendance  of  an 
equal  number  of  dancers  of  both  sexes ;  but 
experience  shows  that  to  do  this  it  is  neces 
sary  to  invite  more  gentlemen  than  ladies. 

It  is  the  lady  of  the  house  who  gives  & 
party  or  ball.  The  invitations  should  be  in 
her  name,  and  the  replies  addressed  to  her. 

The  invitations  may  be  sent  out  three 
weeks  before  the  time;  but  a  fortnight  is 
sufficient ;  a  less  time  is  not  according  to  et?* 
quette. 

Printed  forms  of  invitation  may  be  ol> 
tained  at  every  stationer's ;  but  it  is  better 
that  they  should  be  written.  In  that  case 
use  small  note-paper,  white,  and  of  the  very 
best  quality ;  let  the  envelopes  be  also  thick 
and  good. 

This  form  of  invitation  may  be  used.     It 

47 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS, 


has  the  merit  of  brevity  and  simplicity,  two 
very  desirable  qualities  in  an  invitation : 
"THURSDAY,  February  $th. 

u  Mrs. requests  the  pleasure  of  Mr. 

< 's  company  at  an  Evening  Party,  Thurs 
day,  February  26th.  • 

"An  answer  will  oblige. 

"Dancing." 

This  is  the  simplest,  and,  therefore,  the 
most  desirable  form  of  invitation. 

To  this  an  answer  should  be  returned 
within  a  day  or  two,  and  it  may  assume  the 
following  form,  which  also  has  the  merit  of 
brevity : 

"SATURDAY,  February  jth. 

"  Mr. has  much  pleasure  in  accepting 

Mrs. 's  polite  invitation  for  Thursday 

evening,  the  26th  inst." 

Short  or  verbal  invitations  should  never 
be  given,  even  among  relations  and  intimate 
friends ;  it  is  discourteous,  as  implying  that 
they  are  of  no  importance,  and  is  excessively 
vulgar. 

It  may  be  mentioned  here,  that  married 
ladies  are  usually  attended  by  their  hus 
bands  ;  but  the  rule  is  not  necessarily  ob 
served.  Unmarried  ladies  should  be  accom 
panied  by  their  mothers,  or  may  be  under 
the  care  of  a  chaperon,  a  married  sister,  or 
an  elderly  lady  friend. 

Attractive  Decorations. 

As  to  the  ball-room: — When  there  is  a 
choice  of  rooms,  one  which  is  light,  lofty, 
and  well  ventilated,  should  be  selected,  if  its 
size  and  proportions  adapt  it  for  dancing  pur 
poses.  A  square  room  is  better  than  one 
which  is  long  and  narrow,  but  a  medium  be 
tween  these  extremes  is  best.  Above  all,  a 
ball-room,  should  be  well  lighted,  and  have  a 
gay  or  exhilarating  appearance ;  the  decora 
tions  should  be  light,  the  window  curtains 
of  a  like  description,  and  flowers  and  shrubs 
may  be  introduced  with  advantage. 


A  good  floor  is  essential  to  ttit  enjoyment 
of  dancing ;  when  the  carpet  is  taken  ups 
care  should  be  used  that  no  roughness  of  sur-^ 
face  is  presented.  Some  ladies  have  their 
dancing-floors  carefully  polished  with  bees 
wax  and  a  brush.  A  crumb-cloth  or  linen 
diaper,  thoroughly  well  stretched  over  a  car 
pet,  is  the  next  best  thing  to  a  polished  floor. 

The  question  of  music  is  important  If 
it  is  a  large  ball,  four  musicians  is  the  least 
number  that  should  be  engaged — piano,  cot- 
net  or  flute,  violin,  and  violoncello.  IE 
small  assemblies  the  violin  and  piano  are 
sufficient  When  the  piano  alone  is  used, 
however  limited  the  number  of  guests,  the 
hostess  should  secure  the  attendance  of  a  pro- 
fessional  pianist,  because  the  guests  ought 
not  to  be  left  to  the  mercy  of  those  who  hap* 
pen  to  be  present  and  can  be  prevailed  on  to 
play,  while  it  often  happens  that  those  who 
oblige  out  of  courtesy  would  prefer  taking 
part  in  the  dance. 

The  place  occupied  by  the  orchestra  is  uiv 
derstood  to  be  the  top  of  the  room,  but  \\ 
is  not  always  convenient  to  adhere  strictly 
to  this  rule  in  a  private  room,  but  it  is  gen 
erally  the  end  farthest  from  the  door.  The 
point  should  be  ascertained  by  the  dancers, 
as,  in  quadrilles,  the  top  couples  lead  off,  and 
uncertainty  leads  to  confusion. 

The  Refreshment  I  loom. 

Refreshments  must,  of  course,  be  provided 
for  the  guests  during  the  evening;  and,  as 
nothing  should  be  handed  round  in  the  ball 
room,  a  refreshment  room  is  absolutely  neces 
sary. 

The  refreshment  room  should,  if  possible, 
be  on  the  same  floor  as  the  ball-room,  be 
cause  it  is  not  only  inconvenient,  but  dan 
gerous,  for  ladies  heated  by  the  dance  to 
encounter  the  draught  of  the  staircases,  while 
it  is  most  destructive  to  their  dresses. 

Provide  in  the  refreshment  room,  lemon- 


EVENING  PARTIES. 


49 


atle,  tea  and  coffee,  ices,  biscuits,  wafers, 
,?akes  and  cracker  bon-bons.  Some  persons 
A'ill  also  add  wine  to  the  list. 

Supper  should  be  laid  in  a  separate  room. 
What  it  should  comprise  must  depend  entirely 
on  the  taste  and  resources  of  those  who  give 
the  ball.  To  order  it  in  from  a  good  con 
fectioner  is  the  simplest  plan,  but  is  apt  to 
prove  somewhat  expensive.  If  provided  at 
home,  let  it  be  done  on  a  liberal,  but  not 
vulgarly  profuse  scale.  Substantial  fare, 
such  as  fowls,  ham,  tongue,  turkey,  etc.,  are 
absolutely  necessary.  Jellies,  blanc-mange, 
trifle,  light-cake,  etc.,  may  be  added  at  dis 
cretion.  The  French  fashion  of  giving  hot 
soup  is  coming  in,  and  is  very  pleasant :  the 
lighter  kinds  of  soup — such  as  Julienne, 
gravy,  and  vermicelli — are  most  suitable. 

Nothing  upon  the  table  should  require 
carving;  the  fowls,  pheasants,  turkeys  and 
other  birds,  should  be  cut  up  beforehand, 
and  held  together  by  ribbons,  which  only 
require  severing.  Whatever  can  be  iced 
should  be  served  in  that  way. 

A  lady  should  drink  very  little  wine,  and 
certainly  not  more  than  one  glass  of  cham 
pagne  ;  it  also  behooves  a  gentleman  to  be 
careful  in  this  respect,  as  nothing  is  more 
odious  or  contrary  to  the  usages  of  modern 
•society  than  any  appearance  of  excess  in  this 
particular. 

The  supper-room  is  opened  about  mid 
night,  and  is  not  closed  till  the  end  of  the 
party. 

The  Dressing-  Room. 

A  cloak-room  for  the  ladies  must  be  pro- 
yided,  and  one  or  two  maids  to  receive 
shawls  or  cloaks,  which  they  will  place  so 
that  they  may  be  easy  of  access,  and  to 
render  any  assistance  in  the  way  of  arrang 
ing  hair  or  dress,  repairing  a  torn  dress,  or 
any  office  of  that  kind.  In  this  room  there 
be  several  looking-glasses,  with  a 
4 


supply  of  hair-pins,  needles,  thread,  pins, 
and  such  articles  as  may  be  needed  in  r, 
lady's  toilette. 

A  hat  room  for  gentlemen  must  not  be 
forgotten ;  and  it  is  best  to  provide  eheckss 
both  for  articles  belonging  to  ladies  and 
gentlemen  left  in  charge  of  the  attendants^ 
Where  checks  cannot  be  had,  tickets  num 
bered  in  duplicate  may  be  used — one  being 
given  to  the  lady  or  gentleman,  and  the 
other  pinned  to  the  coat  or  cloak.  By  this 
means  the  property  of  each  guest  is  identified, 
and  confusion  at  the  time  of  departure  is  pre« 
vented. 

The  Lady's  Toilette. 

Fashion  is  so  capricious  and  so  imperative 
in  the  matter  of  dress,  that  it  is  difficult  to 
give  advice  or  instruction  of  permanent 
value  upon  the  best  mode  of  dressing.  Still 
there  are  laws  by  which  even  fashion  is  reg 
ulated  and  controlled.  There  are  certain 
principles  in  dress,  approved  by  good  taste 
and  common-sense,  which  cannot  be  out«< 
raged  with  impunity. 

A  lady,  in  dressing  for  a  ball,  has  first  to 
consider  the  delicate  question  of  age  ;  and 
next,  that  of  her  position,  whether  married 
or  single.  As  everything  about  a  ball-room 
should  be  light,  gay,  and  the  reverse  of  de 
pressing,  it  is  permitted  to  elderly  ladies,  who 
do  not  dance,  to  assume  a  lighter  and  more 
effective  style  of  dress  than  would  be  proper 
at  the  dinner-table,  concert,  or  opera.  Rich 
brocades,  if  not  sombre  in  hue,  and  a  some 
what  profuse  display  of  good  jewelry,  are 
permissible. 

The  toilette  of  the  married  and  unmarried 
lady,  however  youthful  the  former,  should 
be  distinctly  and  tastefully  marked.  Silk 
dresses  are,  as  a  rule,  objectionable  for  those 
who  dance ;  but  the  married  lady  may  ap 
pear  in  a  moire  of  light  tint,  or  even  in  & 
white  silk,  if  properly  trimmed  with  tulle  and 


50  RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE 

flowers.  Flowers  or  jewels  may  be  worn  in 
the  hair.  In  some  places  small  feathers  are 
worn.  Jewelry  should  be  sparingly  dis 
played. 

Young  unmarried  ladies  should  wear 
dresses  of  light  material — the  lighter  the 
better.  Tarlatane,  gauze,  tulle,  the  finest 
muslin,  lace,  and  all  similar  fabrics  are  avail 
able.  Such  dresses  should  be  worn  over  a 
silk  slip,  or  under-dress. 

There  is  no  restriction  as  to  colors,  except 
that  they  should  be  chosen  with  reference  to 
the  wearer.  Thus  a  blonde  appears  to  most 
advantage  in  delicate  hues,  such  as  light  blue 
and  pink,  mauve,  white,  and  like  shades. 
Arsenic  green  should  be  avoided,  as  injurious 
to  health.  The  brunette  should,  on  the  con 
trary,  select  rich  and  brilliant  colors. 

Flowers  are  the  proper  ornaments  for  the 
head  and  dress.  The  French  ladies  select 
them  with  reference  to  the  season  ;  but  this 
is  not  insisted  on  in  this  country,  and  sum 
mer  flowers  may  be  worn  at  Christmas. 

I<adies  in  deep  mourning  should  not  dance, 
even  if  they  permit  themselves  to  attend  a 
ball.  Should  they  do  so,  black  and  scarlet 
or  violet  is  the  proper  wear.  Where  the 
mourning  is  sufficiently  slight  for  dancing 
to  be  seemly,  white,  with  mauve,  violet  or 
black  trimmings,  flounces,  etc.,  is  proper. 

Gloves  and  Shoes. 

White  gloves  befit  the  ball-room ;  in 
mourning  they  may  be  sewn  with  black. 

They  should  be  faultless  as  to  fit,  and 
never  be  removed  from  the  hands  in  the  ball 
room.  It  is  well  for  those  who  dance  to  be 
provided  with  a  second  pair,  to  replace  the 
'others  when  soiled,  or  in  case  they  should 
split,  or  the  buttons  should  come  off— acci 
dents  small  in  themselves,  but  sources  of  great 
discomfort. 

As  in  the  promenade,  so  in  the  ball-room, 
boots  have  greatly  superseded  the  use  of 


FOR  'ALL  OCCASIONS. 

shoes ;  these  are  of  kid,  satin,  or  silk,  eithei 
white  or  matching  the  dress  in  color.  With 
the  tendency  to  revive  the  fashions  of  the  Em 
pire  in  France,  shoes,  then  worn,  are  reap 
pearing. 

All  the  accessories  of  the  toilette — gloves, 
shoes,  flowers,  fans,  and  the  opera  cloak — 
should  be  fresh  and  new.  Inattention  in  this 
matter  spoils  the  effect  of  the  most  impres 
sive  toilette. 

How  Gentlemeii  Should  Dress. 

The  attire  in  which  alone  a  gentleman  can 
present  himself  in  a  ball-room  is  so  rigorous 
ly  defined,  and  admits  of  so  little  variety,  that 
it  can  be  described  in  a  few  words. 

He  must  wear  a  black  dress  coat,  black 
trousers,  and  a  black  waistcoat;  a  white 
necktie,  white  kid  gloves,  and  patent  leather 
boots.  This  is  imperative.  The  ball-suit 
should  be  of  the  very  best  cloth,  new  and 
glossy,  and  of  the  latest  style  as  to  cut.  The 
waistcoat  may  be  low,  so  as  to  disclose  an 
ample  shirt-front,  fine  and  delicately  plaited  ; 
it  is  better  not  embroidered,  but  small  gold 
studs  may  be  used  with  effect.  White  waist 
coats  have  not  "  come  in,  "  as  they  were  ex 
pected  to  do.  The  necktie  should  be  of  a 
washing  texture,  not  silk,  and  not  set  off 
with  embroidery.  Gloves,  white,  not  straw- 
color  or  lavender. 

Excess  of  jewelry  is  to  be  avoided  :  simple 
studs,  gold  solitaire  sleeve-links,  may  be  used, 
and  a  watch-chain,  massive,  and  with  the 
usual  charms  and  appendages. 

Perfumes  should  be  avoided  as  effeminate ; 
if  used  at  all,  for  the  handkerchief,  they 
should  be  of  the  very  best  and  most  delicate 
character,  or  they  may  give  offence,  ac  per 
sons  often  entertain  strong  aversions  to  pecu 
liar  scents. 

At  balls  of  a  public  character  the  "  party, " 
of  whatever  number  it  may  consist,  enters 


EVENING  PARTIES. 


the  room  unobtrusively,  the  gentlemen  con 
ducting  the  ladies  to  convenient  seats. 

In  a  private  party  or  ball,  the  lady  of  the 
house  will  linger  near  the  door  by  which 
her  guests  enter  (at  least  till  supper  time,  or 
till  all  have  arrived),  in  order  to  receive  them 
with  a  smile,  an  inclination  of  the  head,  a 
passing  remark,  or  a  grasp  of  the  hand,  ac 
cording  to  degrees  of  intimacy. 

The  master  of  the  house  and  the  sons 
should  not  be  far  distant,  so  as  to  be  able  to 
introduce  to  the  lady  any  of  his  or  their 
friends  on  their  arrival.  It  is  not  necessary 
that  the  daughters  should  assist  in  the  cere 
mony  of  reception. 

Announcing  the  Guests. 

Guests  are  announced  by  name  at  a  private 
ball  in  Europe,  and  in  some  places  in  this 
country  this  rule  is  observed;  but  this  is 
entirely  a  matter  regulated  by  the  custom  of 
the  place.  As  they  reach  the  door  of  the  ball 
room,  ie  servant  calls  out,  "  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
;  "  "Mr.  Theodore ;  "  "  the  Misses 

_  5> 

On  entering  the  ball-room,  they  at  once 
proceed  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  lady  of 
the  house,  and  may  then  acknowledge  the 
presence  of  such  friends  as  they  find  around 
them. 

At  public  balls  a  programme  of  dancing  is 
^iven  to  the  guests  on  their  arrival ;  and  this 
example  should  be  followed  in  anything 
more  than  a  mere  "  carpet-dance.  " 

The  dances  should,  in  any  case,  be  arranged 
beforehand,  and  it  is  convenient  and  inexpen- 
iive  to  have  them  printed  on  cards  of  small  and 
convenient  size,  the  numbered  dances  on  one 
side,  and  numbered  lines  for  engagements  on 
the  other.  A  better  plan  is  to  have  a  card 
folding  in  the  middle,  thus  giving  two  pages, 
with  dances  on  one  page,  and  spaces  for  en 
gagements  on  the  opposite  one.  These  shut 
together,  and  prevent  pencil-marks  being 


rubbed  off.  A  pencil  should  be  attach  ;d  by 
a  ribbon  ;  but  gentlemen  should  make  fl 
memorandum  always  to  provide  themselves 
with  a  small  gold  or  silver  pencil-case  when 
going  to  a  ball,  so  that  they  may  be  pre 
pared  to  write  down  engagements. 

A  pretty  idea  has  been  sometimes  carried 
out  at  balls — it  is  that  of  having  the  order  of 
dancing  printed  on  small  white  paper  fans, 
large  enough  for  practical  use,  one  being 
given  to  every  lady  on  her  arrival.  Tin: 
notion  is  charming,  and  the  expense  not 
great 

From  eighteen  to  twenty-one  dances  is  a 
convenient  number  to  arrange  for;  suppei 
causes  a  convenient  break  after,  say,  the 
twelfth  dance,  and  if,  at  the  end  of  the  ball- 
list,  there  is  still  a  desire  to  prolong  the  ball, 
one  or  two  extra  dances  are  easily  improvised, 

A  ball  should  commence  with  a  march, 
followed  by  a  quadrille,  after  which  a  waltz 
should  succeed.  Then  follow  quadrilles  and 
waltzes,  including  galops,  arranged  as  those 
having  charge  of  the  ball  may  think  best 

Formerly  at  public  balls  a  Master  of  the 
Ceremonies  was  considered  indispensable; 
but  this  custom  is  almost  obsolete,  the  man- 
agement  of  the  ball  being  in  the  hands  of  a 
committee,  who  are  distinguished  by  rosettes, 
ribbons  in  the  button-hole.  These  superin 
tend  the  dances,  and  gentlemen  desiring  to 
dance  with  ladies  apply  to  them  for  intro 
ductions. 

Introductions. 

In  private  balls  introductions  are  effected 
through  the  lady  of  the  house,  or  other  mem' 
bers  of  the  family.  Where  there  are  daughters, 
they  fitly  exert  themselves  in  arranging  sets, 
giving  introductions,  etc. — never  dancing 
themselves  until  all  the  other  ladies  present 
have  partners. 

No  gentleman  should  ask  a  lady  to  dano? 
with  him  until  he  has  received  an 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


tion  to  her.  This  may  be  given  through 
members  of  the  family  giving  the  ball,  or 
the  lady's  chaperon,  or  one  intimate  friend 
may  ask  permission  to  introduce  another. 

The  usual  form  of  asking  a  lady  to  dance 
is:  "  May  I  have  the  pleasure  of  dancing  this 
quadrille  with  you?"  Where  there  is  great 
Intimacy:  "Will  you  dance?"  may  suffice. 
To  accept  is  easy  enough — "Thank  you," 
is  sufficient;  to  decline  with  delicacy,  and 
without  giving  offence,  is  more  difficult — 
" Thank  you:  I  am  engaged,"  suffices  when 
chat  expresses  the  fact — when  it  does  not, 
and  a  lady  would  rather  not  dance  with  the 
gentleman  applying  to  her,  she  must  beg  to 
\ »e  excused,  as  politely  as  possible,  and  it  is  in 
better  taste  for  her  not  to  dance  at  all  in  that 
set 

The  slightest  excuse  should  suffice,  as  it  is 
angentlemanly  to  force  or  press  a  lady  to 
dance. 

Attentions  to  Ladies. 

Ladies  should  take  especial  care  not  to 
Accept  two  partners  for  the  same  dance ;  nor 
should  a  gentleman  ask  a  lady  to  dance  with 
him  more  than  twice  during  the  same  even- 
hig;  if  he  is  intimate  with  a  lady,  he  may 
Jance  with  her  three,  or  even  four,  times. 
Do  not  forget  to  ask  the  daughters  of  the 
bouse. 

When  a  lady  has  accepted,  the  gentleman 
offers  her  his  right  arm,  and  leads  her  to  her 
place  on  the  floor. 

A  slight  knowledge  of  the  figure  is  suffi 
cient  to  enable  a  gentleman  to  move  through 
ft  quadrille,  if  he  is  easy  and  unembarrassed, 
<md  his  manners  are  courteous ;  but  to  ask  a 
,ady  to  join  you  in  a  waltz,  or  other  round 
t!ance,  in  which  you  are  not  thoroughly  pro 
ficient,  is  an  unpardonable  offence.  It  is  not 
In  good  taste  for  gentlemen  who  do  not 
dance  to  accept  invitations  to  balls ;  but  it  is 
only  the  vulgar  who,  with  a  knowlege  of 


dancing,  hang  about  the  doors  and  declint 
to  join  in  the  amusement 

It  is  not  necessary  to  oow  to  a  lady  at  the 
end  of  a  quadrille — in  fact,  anything  like 
formality  is  no\v  discountenanced;  it  is 
enough  that  you  again  offer  her  your  right 
arm,  and  walk  half  round  the  room  with  her. 
You  should  inquire  if  she  will  take  refresh 
ments,  and  if  she  replies  in  the  affirmative, 
you  will  conduct  her  to  the  room  devoted  to 
that  purpose — where  it  is  good  taste  on  the 
part  of  the  lady  not  to  detain  her  cavalier 
too  long,  as  he  will  be  anxious  to  attend  to  his 
next  engagement,  and  cannot  return  to  the 
ball-room  until  she  is  pleased  to  be  escorted 
thither,  that  he  may  resign  hei  to  her  chap 
eron  or  friends,  or  to  the  partner  who  claims 
her  promise  for  the  next  dance. 

Taking:  Supper. 

The  gentleman  who  dances  with  a  lady  in 
the  last  dance  before  supper,  conducts  that 
lady  to  the  supper-room,  attends  on  her  while 
there,  and  escorts  her  back  to  the  ball-room.  At 
a  private  ball,  the  lady  of  the  house  may  ask 
a  gentleman  to  take  a  lady  down  to  supper, 
and  he  is  bound  to  comply,  and  to  treat  her 
with  the  utmost  delicacy  and  attention. 

In  either  case  a  gentleman  will  not  sup 
with  the  ladies,  but  stand  by  and  attend  to 
them,  permitting  himself  a  glass  of  wine  with 
them ;  but  taking  a  subsequent  opportunity 
to  secure  his  own  refreshment 

It  is  vulgar  either  to  eat  or  drink  to  excess 
at  a  ball-supper. 

It  is  not  well  to  dance  every  dance,  as  the 
exercise  is  unpleasantly  heating  and  fatiguing. 
Never  forget  an  engagement — it  is  an  offence 
that  does  not  admit  of  excuse,  except  when 
a  lady  commits  it ;  and  then  a  gentleman  is 
bound  to  take  her  at  her  word  without  a 
murmur.  It  is  not  the  mode  for  married 
persons  to  dance  together.  Engaged  persons 


EVENING  PARTIES. 


53 


should  not  dance  together  too  often ;  it  is  in 
bad  taste. 

Entertaining  Conversation. 

Gentlemen  should  endeavor  to  entertain 
the  ladies  who  dance  with  them  with  a  little 
conversation,  or  something  more  novel  than 
the  weather  and  the  heat  of  the  room ;  and 
in  round  dances  they  should  be  particularly 
careful  to  guard  them  from  collisions,  and  to 
see  that  their  dresses  are  not  torn. 

Assemblies  of  this  kind  should  be  left 
quietly.  If  the  party  is  small,  it  is  permis 
sible  to  bow  to  the  hostess ;  but  at  a  large 
ball  this  is  not  necessary,  unless  indeed 
you  meet  her  on  your  way  from  the  room. 
The  great  thing  is  to  avoid  making  your 
departure  felt  as  a  suggestion  for  break 
ing  up  the  party ;  as  you  have  no  right  to 
hint  by  your  movements  that  you  consider 
the  entertainment  has  been  kept  up  long 
enough. 

Finally,  let  no  gentleman  presume  on  a 
ball-room  introduction.  It  is  given  with  a 
view  to  one  dance  only,  and  will  certainly 
not  warrant  a  gentleman  in  going  further 
than  asking  a  lady  to  dance  a  second  time. 
Out  of  the  ball-room  such  an  introduction 
has  no  force  whatever. 

If  those  who  have  danced  together  meet 
next  day  in  the  street,  or  the  park,  the  gentle 
man  must  not  venture  to  bow,  unless  the  lady 
chooses  to  favor  him  with  some  mark  of  her 
recognition.  If  he  does,  he  must  not  expect 
any  acknowledgment  of  his  salutation. 
,  After  a  private  ball  it  is  etiquette  to  call  at 
the  house  during  the  following  week. 

A  gentleman  attending  a  private  ball  un 
attended  will  first  ask  one  of  the  ladies  of  the 
house  to  dance  with  him.  If  she  is  unable 
to  do  so,  she  will  introduce  him  to  an  agree 
able  partner. 

A  gentleman   will    dance  first  with  the 


lady  he  accompanies  to  the  ball,  but  will  not 
dance  with  her  too  often. 

Do  not  engage  in  any  long  or  confidential 
conversations  in  the  ball-room. 

Do  not  wait  until  the  music  has  com 
menced  before  selecting  your  partner.  Lead 
her  to  her  place  in  time  to  commence  with 
the  other  dancers. 

A  lady  should  never  leave  a  ball-room 
unattended.  A  gentleman  seeing  a  lady 
with  whom  he  is  acquainted  desirous  oi 
doing  so,  should  promptly  offer  to  escort  her, 
and  the  lady,  on  her  part,  should  accept  the 
proffered  escort  as  frankly  as  it  is  tendered, 
but  should  be  careful  not  to  keep  the  gentle* 
man  too  long  away  from  the  ball-room. 

French.  Terms  Used  in  Dancing. 

A  knowledge  of  the  French  terms  used  in 
dancing  is  absolutely  necessary  to  dancers. 
We  give  the  following,  with  their  definitions. 
They  will  be  found  sufficient  for  all  practical 
purposes : 

Balances.     Set  to  or  swing  partners. 

Balances  aux  coins.  Set  to  or  swing 
corners. 

Balances  quatre  en  ligne.  Set  four  in  a 
line. 

Chaine  Anglaise.  Top  and  bottom  couples 
right  and  left 

Chaine  Anglaise  double.  Double  right 
and  left. 

Chaine  Anglaise  demie.  Half  right  and 
left. 

Chaine  des  dames.     Ladies'  chain. 

Chaine  des  dames  double.  All  the  ladies 
commence  the  chain  at  the  same  time. 

Chaine  (la  grande).  All  the  couples  chas- 
sez  quite  round,  giving  right  and  left  hands 
alternately — beginning  with  the  right  until 
all  resume  places. 

Chasses.  Move  to  right  and  left,  or  left 
to  right. 


54 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


Chasses  croises.  Lady  and  gentleman 
fJkassez  in  opposite  directions. 

Cavalier  seul.    Gentleman  advances  alone. 

Demi-promenade.  All  the  couples  half- 
?tomenade. 

Dos-a-dos.     Back  to  back. 

Glissade.     A  sliding  step. 

Le  grand  rond.  All  join  hands,  and  ad 
vance  and  retire  twice. 

Le  grand  tour  de  rond.  Join  hand?,  and 
3ance  round  figure. 

La  grande  promenade.  All  promenade 
found  figure  and  back  to  places. 

Le  moulinet.  Hands  across.  Demi-mou- 
Unet.  Ladies  advance  to  center,  give  right 
hands  and  retire. 

Traverses.  Opposite  persons  change  places ; 
^etraversez,  they  cross  back  again. 

Vis-a-vis.  Face  to  face,  or  the  opposite 
partner. 

There  is  no  surer  mark  of  a  well-bred  man 
or  woman  than  proper  and  dignified  conduct 
'in  public.  The  truly  polite  are  always  quiet, 
unobtrusive,  considerate  of  others,  and  care 
ful  to  avoid  all  manifestations  of  superio^'ty 
or  elegance. 

Loud  and  boisterous  talking,  immoderate 
laughing  and  forward  and  pushing  conduct 
are  always  marks  of  bad  breeding.  They 
inevitably  subject  a  person  to  the  satirical 
remarks  of  the  persons  with  whom  he  is 
and  are  perhaps  the  surest  means  of 


proclaiming  that  such  a  person  is  not  used  to 
the  ways  of  polite  society. 

When  one  considers  whether  there  are 
special  advantages  in  mingling  with  culti» 
vated  people,  and  attending  social  gatherings, 
it  should  be  remembered  that  only  by  ex 
perience  and  practice  does  any  person  gain 
proficiency  in  anything  that  is  undertaken. 
No  man  could  sell  dry  goods,  or  run  a  rail 
road,  or  cultivate  a  farm,  or  write  books, 
without  gaining  his  knowledge  in  each  of 
these  pursuits  of  what  would  be  required. 
No  young  lady  could  entertain  a  parlor  filled 
with  visitors  by  playing  the  piano,  without 
having  previously  studied  and  practiced  long 
and  faithfully.  Now,  the  same  may  be  said 
concerning  society  in  general.  One  must 
have  actual  contact  with  it  before  the  edges 
can  be  rounded  off,  and  ease  and  grace  of 
manners  can  be  gained. 

It  is  for  this  reason,  which  is  a  very  plain 
and  substantial  one,  that  young  persons 
should  be  encouraged  to  attend  social  gath 
erings,  with  the  understanding  that  they  are 
to  conduct  themselves  properly,  make  them 
selves  agreeable,  and  contribute  to  the  inter 
est  of  the  occasion.  Only  by  actually  doing 
this  can  one  be  prepared  to  do  it  perfectly. 
There  must  be  necessarily  many  mistakes, 
blunders  perhaps,  which  may  be  mortifying 
to  the  one  who  commits  them,  and  must  be 
borne  patiently,  with  a  determination  to  be 
able  finally  to  avoid  them. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Dinner  Parties. 


"HE  table  '!s  the  social  centre.  It  is 
the  rallying  point  of  good  society,  and 
persons  who  gather  about  it  should 
he  able  to  conduct  themselves  in  the  most 
approved  manner.  Any  vulgarity  there  is  a 
sure  sign  of  bad  breeding,  and  a  lamentable 
deficiency  in  those  accomplishments  which 
belong  to  the  true  lady  or  gentleman.  A 
knowledge  of  dinner-table  etiquette  is  all-im 
portant  in  many  respects;  but  chiefly  in 
this :  that  it  is  regarded  as  one  of  the  strong 
tests  of  good  breeding.  Persons  new  to 
society  may  master  its  simpler  forms — such 
as  dropping  cards,  paying  visits,  mixing  in 
evening  parties,  and  so  on  ;  but  dining  is  the 
great  trial.  The  rules  to  be  observed  at  table 
are  so  numerous  and  so  minute  in  respect  of 
detail,  that  they  require  the  most  careful 
study ;  and  the  worst  of  it  is  that  none  of 
them  can  be  violated  without  exposing  the 
offender  to  instant  detection,  and  for  this 
reason,  that  those  accustomed  to  good  society 
cannot  err  in  particulars  in  which  others  are 
pretty  certain  to  commit  themselves. 

For  example,  a  gentleman  could  net  put 
his  knife  in  his  mouth  ;  nor  could  a  lady  ask 
twice  for  soup.  These  may  seem  small  points, 
but  things  are  large  or  small,  important  or 
unimportant,  by  comparison ;  and,  moreover, 
society  judges  of  character  and  accomplish 
ments  by  trifles. 

Mere  friendly  dinners  should  be  conducted 
with  the  strictest  regard  to  etiquette,  but 
more  freedom  maybe  observed  than  at  formal 
dinner-parties  ;  nor  need  one  make  such  an 
elaborate  display.  Let  the  home  feeling  and 
a  graceful  ease  mark  the  occasion. 


In  giving  a  dinner-party,  the  great  ques 
tion  is,  Whom  to  invite?  Upon  this  point 
there  hinges  a  second  of  almost  equal  impor 
tance,  namely,  How  many  are  to  be  invited? 

Taking  the  second  difficulty  first,  we  may 
say  that  a  dinner-party  may  consist  of  any 
number  with  one  exception;  there  are  not 
to  be  thirteen  at  table,  because  some  persons 
entertain  a  foolish  superstition  with  regard 
to  that  number,  and  we  have  known  those 
who  would  decline  to  sit  down  rather  than 
make  the  thirteenth. 

L/arge  dinners  are  a  mistake,  though,  of 
course,  political,  business,  family  and  other 
reasons,  often  necessitate  their  being  given. 
Six  or  eight  is  a  comfortable  number  for 
a  dinner.  We  prefer  an  even  to  an  odd 
number ;  the  guests  are  then  paired,  though 
all  present  should  unite  for  the  general  en 
tertainment,  instead  of  breaking  up  into 
knots,  as  is  inevitably  the  case  where  a  dozen 
or  more  persons  sit  down. 

Of  course,  if  a  dinner  is  given  merely  as 
an  opportunity  for  display,  it  does  not  matter 
how  many  are  invited,  so  that  the  resources 
of  the  establishment  (and  of  the  pastrycook) 
are  equal  to  the  occasion.  In  the  latter  case, 
too,  it  does  not  much  matter  who  is  asked; 
the  host  has  only  to  group  his  guests  to  the 
best  of  his  ability. 

But  when  the  object  is  that  a  dinner  shall 
be  enjoyed,  it  is  quite  as  important  to  ask, 
"  Who?  "  as  to  determine  how  many.  There 
is  nothing  which  party-giving  people  fail  in 
so  lamentably  as  the  right  selection  and 
assortment  of  their  guests.  How  often  must 
it  be  repeated,  that  it  is  not  enough  to  make 

5£ 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


the  most  perfect  arrangements  for  receiving 
company  if  those  invited  are  -Hopelessly  un- 
suited  to  one  another?  The  edfect  of  bring 
ing  together  an  incongruous  mass  of  people 
is  certain  and  inevitable ;  nothing  but  failure 
can  attend  it.  There  is,  we  are  aware,  the 
difficulty  of  the  people  one  must  ask;  but 
many  dinner-givers  seem  to  have  no  tact,  no 
sagacity,  no  perception  of  the  fitness  of  things, 
and  when  they  have  a  power  of  choice  do 
not  exercise  it.  They  think  one  wealthy  man 
must  be  glad  to  meet  another  wealthy  man, 
one  lawyer  another  lawyer,  and  so  on. 

Forms  of  Invitation. 

Having  decided  upon  the  guests  to  be  asked, 
send  out  the  invitations  a  reasonable  time 
before  the  day  fixed  on  for  the  dinner.  In 
the  height  of  the  season,  in  town,  ihis  should 
be  three  weeks  before ;  but  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  a  fortnight  is  sufficient,  and, 
in  the  country,  a  week  or  ten  days. 

All  invitations — even  those  to  the  most 
intimate  friends — should  be  by  note.  Forms 
are  to  be  obtained  at  stationers' ;  but  if  the 
note  is  written,  let  it  be  on  the  very  best 
paper,  small  note  size. 

The  invitation  is  in  the  name  of  both  the 
lady  and  gentleman  of  the  house,  and  should 
be  written  in  the  third  person,  and  may 
take  this  form : 

"  Mr.  and  Mrs. request  the  pleasure 

of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 's  company  at  dinner, 

on  Wednesday,  Aug.  — th,  at  —  o'clock." 

Instead  of  "pleasure,"  the  word  "favor" 
is  sometimes  used.  The  answer  must  agree 
with  the  invitation,  in  being  written  in  the 
third  person,  and  on  small  note-paper.  It 
may  run : 

"Mr.  and  Mrs. have  great  pleasure 

in  accepting  Mr.  and  Mrs. 's  invitation 

to  dinner  on  the  — th." 

If  it  is  necessary  to  decline  the  invitation, 
the  note  assumes  this  form : 


"  Mr.  and  Mrs. regret,  that  owing  tc 

a  previous  engagement,  they  cannot  have 

the  pleasure  of  accepting  Mr.  and  Mrs. 's 

kind  invitation  for  the  — th." 

If  any  other  reason  besides  that  of  a  prior 
engagement  prevents  the  invitation  being 
accepted,  it  should  be  stated. 

Whether  accepting  or  declining,  a  reply 
to  an  invitation  to  dinner  should  always  be 
returned  immediately  or  at  the  very  earliest 
convenience. 

When  practicable,  invitations  should  be 
sent  by  the  hands  of  a  servant  rather  than 
through  the  post ;  but  this  is  a  remnant  of 
punctiliousness  which  "railway  manners" 
are  rapidly  sweeping  away. 

How  Ladies  Should  Dress. 

Dressing  for  dinner  only  present?  points  of 
difficulty  to  the  ladies ;  the  rule  to  be  fol 
lowed  by  gentlemen  is  simple  enough. 

Several  considerations  serve  to  embarrass 
the  gentler  sex.  For  a  "great"  dinner,  a 
lady  dresses  in  a  style  which  would  be  extrav 
agant  and  out  of  keeping  with  a  "small" 
dinner;  yet  the  invitation  is  in  both  cases 
couched  in  the  same  terms.  Moreover,  a 
dinner  is  often  the  prelude  to  an  evening 
party,  or  a  visit  to  the  opera,  or  some  other 
form  of  amusement ;  and  the  style  of  dress 
must  be  suited  to  these  contingencies  also. 
One  or  two  general  rules  may  be  laid  down. 

Full  dinner  dress  means  a  low  dress  ;  the 
hair  arranged  with  flowers  or  other  orna 
ments  ;  and  a  display  of  jewelry,  according 
to  taste.  For  a  grand  dinner,  a  lady  dresses 
as  elaborately  as  for  a  ball ;  but  there  is  a 
great  distinction  between  a  ball  dress  and  a 
dinner  dress.  Let  no  misguided  young  belle 
who  is  invited  to  a  great  house  rush  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  will  be  right  for  her  to 
appear  in  a  dress  that  she  has  worn  in  a  ball 
room.  The  style  of  thing  required  is  wholly 
different.  In  the  ball-room  everything  should 


DINNER  PARTIES. 


•>e  light,  floating,  diaphanous,  ethereal,  and 
calculated  to  produce  a  good  general  effect. 

A  dinner  dress  must  be  good  in  quality ; 
it  should  be  of  silk  of  the  latest  make,  with 
an  ample  train.  By  way  of  setting  the  dress 
off,  rich  lace  may  be  worn — Brussels,  Mech 
lin,  Honiton,  Maltese  or  Cluny;  but  such 
light  materials  as  blonde,  tulle,  areophane, 
tarlatane,  etc.,  are  quite  out  of  place  as  trim 
mings. 

Jewelry  of  almost  any  value  may  be  worn 
at  a  great  dinner — diamonds,  pearls,  eme 
ralds,  rubies,  any  kind  ;  but  it  is  not  in  good 
taste  to  wear  too  much  jewelry  at  any  time. 

As  accessories,  an  opera-cloak,  a  fan,  and 
A  pair  of  perfectly  white  and  perfectly  fitting 
gloves  must  not  be  forgotten. 

In  dressing  for  an  ordinary  dinner — say  a 
dinner  of  six  or  eight,  or  a  dinner  at  a  coun 
try  house — the  demi-toilette  is  sufficient 
The  dress  should  be  made  with  a  low  body ; 
but  a  transparent  arrangement  of  net  or  mus 
lin  fastening  round  the  throat  should  be  worn 
over  it.  This  is  better  than  an  ordinary 
high  dress. 

The  hair  should  be  so  dressed  as  to  be  in 
keeping  with  the  prevailing  fashion,  and  at 
the  same  time  becoming. 

Gentlemen's  Dress. 

The  theory  is  that  gentlemen  dress  for 
dinner  in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  prepared 
for  any  kind  of  entertainment — opera,  con 
cert,  theatre,  party,  meeting,  or  even  ball — 
which  they  may  have  occasion  to  attend 
during  the  evening. 

The  dinner  or  evening  dress  consists  of  a 
black  dress-coat,  black  waistcoat  and  trousers, 
white  cravat,  patent  leather  boots,  and  white 
kid  gloves. 

Jewelry  of  a  more  showy  description  than 
that  worn  in  an  earlier  part  of  the  day  is 
permissible.  A  handsome  chain  may  be 
worn  with  a  gold  watch;  a  diamond  ring 


is  in  good  taste,  and  the  shirt-studs  may  be 
choice,  but  should  be  in  proportion  to  the 
means  cf  the  wearer. 

It  may  be  as  well  to  remark  that  dinner 
parties  are  not  supposed  to  be  given  on  Sun 
days,  and,  therefore,  when  an  invitation  is 
accepted  for  that  day — or  when,  on  a  visit 
host  and  guests  dine  together — it  is  not 
necessary  to  dress;  the  ladies  appearing  in 
high  dresses,  or  the  demi-toilette  at  most; 
gentlett  ^n  iu  walking-dress. 

The  Dining-room. 

To  secure  the  success  of  a  dinner,  certain 
arrangements  are  indispensable.  To  begin 
with :  it  must  be  given  in  a  comfortable  and 
appropriate  room.  Where  there  is  a  choice 
of  rooms,  that  selected  should  be  in  keeping 
with  the  number  of  the  guests. 

See  that  it  is  warm — about  68°.  If,  as  is 
now  the  custom  in  most  of  our  cities,  the 
dinner  be  given  at  a  late  hour,  requiring  the 
room  to  be  lighted,  let  it  be  lit  so  that  the 
light  falls  on  the  table.  If  the  room  is  usually 
lit  by  means  of  gas  brackets,  over  the  fire-place 
or  elsewhere,  supplant  them  by  moderator- 
lamps  on  the  table,  as  nothing  is  more  un 
comfortable  than  a  light  at  one's  back. 

The  room  should  be  carpeted,  if  only  thax» 
the  servants  may  move  about  it  withow 
noise. 

Table  Furnishings. 

It  is  not  easy  to  determine  on  the  best 
shape  for  a  dinner-table.  The  old  oblong 
table  has  disadvantages ;  the  host  and  hostess 
are  effectually  separated,  and  the  same  may 
be  said  of  the  guests  on  either  side.  Oval 
tables  are  now  much  in  vogue,  and  are  com 
fortable.  Round  tables  also  have  their 
advocates ;  but,  like  those  which  are  oblong, 
they  cause  the  company  to  break  up  into 
knots.  Still,  for  small  parties,  many  prefer 
them. 

T*»Ve  care  that  the  cloth  placed  upcn  it  is 


58  RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE 

radiantly  white,  the  folds  showing  that  it  has 
been  recently  opened.  The  same  remark 
will  apply  to  the  table  napkins. 

It  is  customary  to  place  an  ornamental 
stand  for  a  large  dish  in  the  middle  of  the 
table,  and  a  vase  or  stand  of  flowers  at  inter 
vals  down  it.  But  it  is  well  to  see  that  these 
objects  are  not  so  pretentious  as  to  prevent 
those  dining  from  having  a  clear  view  of 
those  opposite  them.  The  appearance  of  the 
table  is  secondary  to  the  comfort  of  the  guests. 

Placing  the  Table-Ware. 

On  the  right  of  the  space  left  for  the  plate 
place  two  knives  and  a  spoon.  The  present 
mode  is  to  use  silver  knives  as  well  as  forks 
tor  fish,  and  in  that  case  this  knife  is  placed  j 
with  the  others.  On  the  left  three  forks — that 
for  sweets  smaller  than  the  others. 

The  glasses  are  placed  on  the  right.  These 
should  be  at  least  four  in  number.  As  it  is 
a  great  breach  of  decorum,  as  well  as  a  sign 
of  ignorance,  to  drink  one  sort  of  wine  from 
a  glass  intended  for  another,  we  will  describe 
the  glasses  commonly  in  use.  The  tall  glass 
or  that  with  the  shallow,  saucer-like  top,  is 
for  Champagne ;  the  green  for  hock,  Chablis 
and  similar  wines;  the  large,  ample  glass 
for  claret  and  Burgundy ;  the  round,  full- 
shaped  glass  for  port,  and  the  smaller  glass 
for  sherry. 

This  is  for  the  reader's  information,  yet 
must  not  be  understood  as  implying  that 
wines  are  essential  to  a  high-toned  dinner. 
Some  of  our  very  best  families,  the  acknow 
ledged  leaders  of  fashion,  never  put  Cham 
pagne  nor  any  kind  of  wine  on  their  tables. 
There  can  be  a  close  adherence  to  the  observ 
ances  of  good  society  without "  placing  exhil 
arating  compounds  "  before  those  whose  prin 
ciples  and  practices,  perhaps,  forbid  any 
indulgence  in  wine  drinking, even  on  "State 
occasions." 


FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 

Each  guest  will  be  provided  v;ith  a  table- 
napkin,  which,  in  laying  the  table,  should 
occupy  the  place  reserved  for  the  plate. 

There  are  many  different,  many  ingenious 
ways  of  treating  the  dinner-napkin.  The 
simplest  is  to  leave  it  in  the  folds  in  which  it 
comes  from  the  laundress. 

The  Dinner,, 

Respecting  the  dinner  itself,  it  is  impos 
sible  to  lay  down  any  fixed  rule.  That  must 
be  governed  by  the  season  and  the  taste  of 
the  host 

We  may  add  that  a  dinner,  however  hum 
ble  in  its  pretensions— if  only  such  as  a  man 
gives  when  he  asks  another  to  come  and 
"take  a  chop  "  with  him — should  never  con 
sist  of  less  than  three  courses,  namely,  soup 
or  fish,  a  joint  (which,  in  a  small  dinner,  may 
be  accompanied  by  poultry  or  game)  and 
pastry.  Cheese  with  salad,  follows  as  a  mat 
ter  of  course. 

For  dessert  this  provision  should  be  made- 
each  guest  will  require  a  silver  spoon,  fork, 
and  a  plate,  with  a  small  folded  napkin  in 
it.  Finger-glasses,  containing  rose-water, 
used  to  be  placed  on  each  guest's  left  hand 
at  dessert ;  but  it  is  now  the  mode  for  the 
perfumed  water  to  be  taken  around  in  a  deep 
silver  dish,  each  person  in  turn  dipping  the 
corner  of  his  napkin  in  it,  and  wetting  the 
fingers  and  lips. 

The  Attendants. 

It  may  be  added  that  the  success  of  a  din 
ner  greatly  depends  on  the  attendants.  It  is 
very  desirable  that  there  should  be  a  suffi 
cient  number  of  servants.  Three  will  be 
enough  for  a  party  of  ten  or  fifteen  at  cable. 
They  should  be  previously  instructed  in  their 
duties,  and  each  should  have  particular  duties 
assigned,  and  attend  to  these  only.  Each 
should  take  charge  of  one  part  of  the  table, 
and  no  other,.  Thus  one  looks  after  the 
guests  on  the  right  from  the  host  to  tbe 


DINNER  PARTIES. 


59 


/nistress,  another  taking  the  opposite  side 
of  the  table,  while  a  third  has  charge  of  the 
sideboard. 

White  collars  and  gloves  should  be  worn 
by  females  ;  or  if  not,  care  should  be  taken 
that  the  hands  and  nails  are  perfectly  clean. 
The  servant  hands  everything  at  the  guest's 
left  hand. 

Receiving-  the  Guests. 

On  their  arrival,  the  guests  are  shown  into 
the  drawing-room,  which  should  be  well 
lighted,  and  in  cold  weather  well  warmed. 
The  hostess  should  be  ready  in  her  drawing- 
room  to  receive  at  least  by  the  hour  for  which 
dinner  is  fixed.  She  should  have  dressed, 
have  given  a  glance  at  the  dinner-table  to 
see  that  all  the  appointments  are  correct, 
looking  more  especially  to  the  smaller  points, 
which  servants  are  apt  to  overlook.  She 
should  then  repair  to  the  drawing-room,  occu 
pying  a  position  there  sufficiently  near  for  her 
to  command  an  uninterrupted  view  of  the 
door,  and  not  too  close,  because  it  is  a  mark 
of  attention  on  her  part  to  rise  and  advance 
A  few  steps  to  receive  her  guests  as  they 
arri  ye.  Cordiality  should  mark  the  reception 
of  tach. 

I  a  good  houses  the  guests  are  received  at 
die  house-door  by  the  man-servant,  who 
ascertains  the  name  and  announces  it  at  the 
dravring-room  door.  In  some  establishments, 
wh<;re  men-servants  are  not  kept,  the  females 
In  attendance  do  this ;  but  the  bawling  out 
of  jiames  is  absurd  in  small  houses,  where 
the:  guests  are  few. 

It  is  peculiarly  the  part  of  the  lady  of  the 
h*_>use  to  entertain  the  guests  as  they  arrive, 
d'aring  the  awkward  half -hour  preceding 
dinner.  If  she  is  at  ease,  it  is  not  difficult 
to  introduce  the  guests  to  each  other,  to 
mdke  observations  suggesting  conversation — 
introducing  any  topic  of  the  day,  or  availing 
°f  any  chance  allusion  to  pictures, 


articles  Qivertu,  prints,  photographs,  or  othei 
objects  of  interest  in  the  drawing-room,  to 
which,  however,  it  is  not  well  that  she  should 
herself  direct  attention,  unless  the  curiosity 
of  the  objects,  rather  than  their  value,  consti 
tutes  their  attraction. 

During  this  period  the  lady  quietly  "pairs 
off"  her  guests,  introducing  to  the  gentle 
men  the  ladies  they  will  take  out  to  dinner. 

Dinner  Ready. 

When  a  butler  forms  part  of  the  establish 
ment,  he  appears  at  the  drawing-room  door 
and  announces  that  dinner  is  on  the  table> 
waiting  respectfully  as  the  guests  pass  out 
When  there  is  no  butler,  the  announcement 
is  made  by  the  housemaid. 

Dinner  should  be  announced  a  few  min 
utes  after  the  arrival  of  the  last  guest — that 
dreadful  personage  whose  vulgar  disregard  ot 
punctuality  has  perhaps  endangered  the  suc 
cess  of  the  repast. 

It  is  well  to  give  the  servant  charged  with 
the  duty  of  announcing  the  guests  a  fairly 
written  list  of  the  names  to  be  looked  at  be 
forehand,  and  ticked  off  as  they  arrive.  This 
prevents  mistakes  in  names,  and  has  this  fur 
ther  advantage,  that  the  dining-room  may 
be  lit  up,  and  matters  forwarded,  as  the  com 
pany  arrive ;  and  when  all  are  there,  the  order 
to  serve  may  be  given,  without  the  master 
or  lady  of  the  house  being  troubled. 

When  dinner  is  announced  the  master  of 
house  will  offer  his  arm  to  the  lady  to  whom 
he  desires  to  show  the  greatest  respect,  and 
places  her  on  his  right  hand — he  generally 
taking  the  lower  end  of  the  table.  The  gen 
tleman  on  whom  has  been  conferred  the 
honor  of  escorting  the  hostess  offers  her  his 
arm  and  conducts  her  to  the  head  of  the  table, 
then  takes  his  seat  on  her  left  hand. 

The  rest  of  the  company  follow  and  take 
the  seats  assigned  them  by  the  host  or  hostess ; 
these  being  arranged  on  the  old-fashioned 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


plan,  according  to  precedence — married  ladies 
taking  the  lead  of  unmarried.  But  as  this 
precedence  question  involves  endless  difficul 
ties  and  unpleasantness,  when  one  gets  be 
yond  the  broad  distinctions  of  ta:?k,  profes 
sion,  and  so  forth,  the  good  taste  of  the 
present  day  has  suggested  an  innovation 
which  is  being  widely  followed.  It  is  taken 
for  granted  that  every  place  at  a  friend's  table 
is  equally  a  place  of  honor  and  equally  agree 
able,  so  that,  in  the  best  circles,  it  is  becom 
ing  the  custom  for  the  guests  to  sit  in  the 
order  in  which  they  enter  the  room,  even 
the  lady  of  the  house  resigning  her  place  of 
honor  and  taking  any  seat  that  offers.  A 
little  care  should,  however,  be  taken  that  a 
judicious  distribution  of  the  guests,  accord 
ing  to  their  tastes,  accomplishments  terms 
of  intimacy,  etc.,  is  secured.  L,adies  sit  on 
the  right  of  gentlemen. 

As  soon  as  seated  all  the  guests  remove 
their  gloves,  and  taking  the  napkins  from  the 
table,  open  them  and  spread  them  on  the 
knees.  The  napkin  is  not  to  be  tucked  into 
the  waistcoat  or  pinned  on  to  the  front  of 
the  dress.  It  will  usually  contain  a  roll ; 
that  is  placed  on  the  left  side  of  the  plate. 

These  preliminaries  arranged,  each  gentle 
man  converses  with  the  lady  he  has  brought 
down  until  the  dinner  begins, 

The  Various  Courses. 

Soup  is  always  first  served — one  ladle  to 
each  plate.  Eat  it  from  the  side  of  your 
spoon.  Do  not  take  it  too  hot;  and  do  not 
ask  twice  for  it,  or  dip  up  the  last  spoonfuls, 
or  tilt  your  plate  to  get  at  it 

Fish  follows  soup.  At  the  best  tables  you 
will  find  a  silver  fish-knife  as  well  as  fork ; 
if  not,  eat  with  a  fork  in  the  right  hand  and 
a  small  piece  of  bread  in  the  left.  Never 
Spit  the  bones  out  into  the  plate,  or  touch 
ihem  with  your  fingers;  use  a  corner  of 


your  napkin  to  convey  them  to  the  side  oi 
your  plate. 

When  there  are  two  kinds  of  fish,  the 
larger  one — say  the  turbot — is  placed  before 
the  host ;  the  lady  taking  that  which  is  less; 
calculated  to  fatigue  in  the  helping.  When 
fish  sauce  is  handed,  put  it  on  the  side  oi 
your  plate.  By  the  way,  endeavor  to  learr* 
the  sauces  appropriate  to  the  different  kind- 
of  fish — as  lobster  sauce  with  turbot,  shrimp 
or  caper  with  salmon,  oyster  with  cod,  and: 
so  on. 

The  entrees  follow: — They  are,  for  the 
most  part,  served  in  covered  silver  side-dishes, 
It  is  not  customary  to  do  more  than  taste 
one,  or,  at  the  most,  two  of  these.  They 
consist  of  sweetbreads,  pates,  cutlets,  and 
made-dishes  generally,  and  over-indulgence 
in  them  is  apt  to  unfit  one  for  enjoying  the 
rest  of  the  dinner,  while  it  is  not  very  good  for 
digestion.  Eat,  such  a*  can  be  eaten  that 
way,  with  a  fork. 

Roast  Meats. 

The  roast  meats  are  placed  about  the  table 
in  this  way : — the  largest  and  most  import 
ant,  say  haunch  of  venison,  before  the  host ; 
one  before  the  lady  of  the  house,  and  such 
dishes  as  tongue  or  ham  before  particular 
guests,  occupying  seats  at  points  where  carv 
ing-knives  and  forks  will  be  found  ready 
placed. 

It  is  proper  to  proceed  to  carve  what  is  put 
before  you  for  that  purpose  without  hesita 
tion  or  demur.  Carving  is  a  most  important 
accomplishment,  and  one  that  should  be  ac 
quired  by  every  gentleman.  A  man  should 
be  able  to  carve  a  joint  or  a  bird  easily,  dex 
terously,  without  exertion,  and  with  infinite 
neatness.  But  facility  is  only  to  be  acquired 
by  practice.  You  will  see  an  unpracticed 
man  stand  up  and  labor  at  a  joint  or  a  birdj 
while  another  will  quietly  dispose  of  it  wjth< 


DINNER  PARTIES. 


cmt  effort  or  difficulty.     Tact  lias  something 
to  do  with  it ;  practice  more. 

We  need  hardly  say  that  both  knife  and 
fork  are  used  for  meat  and  poultry,  and  like 
wise  for  game ;  but  under  no  possible  circum 
stances  is  the  knife  to  be  put  in  or  near  the 
uiouth. 

Do  not  begin  to  eat  meat  until  you  have  all 
the  accessories — the  vegetables,  the  gravy, 
and,  in  the  case  of  venison  or  mutton,  the  cur 
rant  jelly. 

Do  not  load  your  plate  with  different,  kinds 
of  vegetables.  Eat  them  with  a  fork.  Do 
not  take  a  spoon  for  peas,  it  is  unnecessary, 
ft  is  best  for  both  gentlemen  and  ladies  to 
fiat  asparagus  with  the  knife  and  fork,  cutting 
off  the  heads.  In  England  gentlemen  eat  as 
paragus  by  taking  the  stalk  in  their  fingers. 
Ladies  never  do. 

Game  and  Dessert. 

Game  follows.  It  is  often  put  on  with 
the  sweets,  in  which  case  the  principal  dish 
of  game  is  placed  before  the  gentleman,  and 
the  pudding  or  tart  before  the  lady  of  the 
house.  Minor  dishes  are  arrayed  at  the 
sides.  It  is  very  necessary  for  a  gentleman 
to  have  a  knowledge  of  the  way  in  which 
'aare,  pheasant,  partridge,  teal,  snipe,  and 
small  birds  generally,  are  carved  and  helped. 
A  knife  is  used  in  eating  all  of  them. 

Cheese  concludes  the  dinner.  As  a  rule, 
only  the  gentlemen  eating  it,  the  ladies  de 
clining  to  do  so.  It  is  eaten  with  a  fork. 
Rusks,  or  pulled  bread,  as  it  is  called,  should 
be  handed  round  with  it.  These  may  be 
taken,  and  also  broken,  with  the  fingers,  as 
bread  is  done. 

When  the  servants  have  placed  the  dessert 
on  the  table,  and  have  handed  the  fruit  and 
sweets  once  round,  they  retire. 

The  gentlemen  then  devote  themselves  to 
Jhe  ladies,  and  see  that  they  want  for  nothing. 


They  select  the  choicest  fruits  from  those  at 
hand.  Should  a  lady  take  a  pear,  an  apple,  or 
an  orange,  the  gentleman  next  her  prepares  it, 
using  a  silver  knife  and  fork,  and  never 
touching  it  with  the  fingers.  In  the  same 
way,  should  she  take  walnuts  or  nuts  of  any 
kind,  he  will  crack  them  for  her.  There 
will  be  plenty  of  time  for  him  to  have  his  own 
dessert  when  the  ladies  have  returned  to  the 
drawing-room. 

Retiring  from  the  Table. 

Then  the  hostess  bows  to  the  lady  of  most 
distinction  present,  and  all  the  ladies  rise  and 
prepare  to  retire.  The  gentleman  nearest  the 
door  opens  it,  and  holds  it  open  for  them. 
The  hostess  is  the  last  to  go  out.  While 
they  are  going  all  the  gentlemen  rise,  and 
remain  standing  until  they  are  gone.  It 
would  not,  however,  be  a  violation  of  eti 
quette  for  the  gentlemen  to  accompany  the 
ladies  to  the  drawing-room  at  once.  j 

Tea  and  coffee  are  dispensed  by  the  lady  of 
the  liouse  in  the  drawing-room.  This  is  her 
special  province.  It  should  be  accompanied 
by  a  few  wafers ;  a  plate  of  very  thin  rolled 
bread-and-butter,  and  a  few  biscuits  of  the 
lightest  description  may  be  added.  One  cup 
of  tea  or  coffee  only  should  be  taken ;  and 
we  need  hardly  say  that  it  must  not  be 
poured  into  the  saucer  to  cool.  It  will  be 
handed  round  the  room  by  the  servants. 

In  the  drawing-room  there  should  be  a 
little  music  to  give  relief  to  the  conversa 
tion. 

At  a  plain  family  dinner,  at  which  one  or 
two  guests  are  present,  more  devolves  on  the 
host  and  hostess,  and  less  on  the  servants. 

However  quiet  and  unpretending  the  partys 
a  lady  must  never  help  herself  to  anything, 
even  if  it  is  immediately  before  her.  And  she 
must  studiously  refrain  from  offering  to  hand 
anything  10  others  ;  that  is  a  signal  proof  cf 
ill-breeding. 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


Nothing  should  be  suffered  to  disturb  the 
general  composure  at  the  dinner-table. 

Maintain  Self-Possession. 

Accidents  will  happen ;  wine  will  be  spilt, 
and  glass  and  china  broken  ;  but  these  things 
should  neither  bring  a  frown  to  the  face  of 
the  hostess,  nor  be  suffered  to  embarrass  the 
unlucky  guest  The  highest  compliment 
ever  paid  to  a  lady,  as  expressive  of  her  es 
sentially  lady-like  qualities,  was  that  she 
Was — 

"  Mistress  of  herself,  though  china  fall." 

Let  us  ad:!  a  few  general  hints.  Chew 
with  your  mouth  shut.  Cut  the  food  into 
small  pieces,  and  when  a  spoon  is  raised  to 
the  mouth  see  that  it  is  not  so  mil  as  to  re 
quire  an  effort  to  swallow  its  contents.  Never 
drink  with  the  mouth  full ;  it  may  lead  to 
choking,  which  is  unpardonable.  The  same 
rule  applies  to  talking.  Gentlemen  wearing 
beard  or  moustache  should  be  careful  to  use 
the  table-napkin  repeatedly,  so  that  no  particle 
of  food,  or  drop  of  wine  or  gravy,  be  left  adher 
ing  to  the  hair  in  an  offensive  way.  Do  not 
put  your  hands  on  the  table,  or  play  with 
your  bread,  or  examine  the  plate  with  an  in 
quisitive  glance.  In  taking  sauces,  be  care- 
fill  not  to  try  to  secure  all  the  oysters,  shrimps, 
etc.;  and  so,  in  taking  salad,  do  not  appro 
priate  all  the  lobster,  or  whatever  may  give 
a  character  to  it,  or  take  an  undue  quantity 
of  the  dressing. 

In  eating  plum  or  cherry  tarts,  convey  the 
stones  from  your  mouth  to  the  plate  with 
your  fork.  Avoid  taking  dishes  quite  un 
known  to  you,  lest  you  should  not  like  them, 
and  be  obliged  to  express  your  distaste  either 
by  your  face  OT  in  some  more  offensive 
manner.  Never  offer  to  pass  a  plate  that  has 
been  handed  to  you.  Do  not  speak  to  serv 
ants  imperiously  or  in  an  offensive  manner. 

It  is  the  part  of  the  host  to  promote  genial, 
pleasant  feeling,  to  see  that  every  one  is  prop 


erly  attended  to,  and  that  his  friends  lao 
nothing  that  may  tend  to  their  comfort.  O* 
the  other  hand,  the  guests  are  bound  to  pro 
mote  the  general  amusement,  which  is  tht 
object  of  their  meeting,  not  by  individual 
attempts  at  brilliancy — for  the  desire  to  shim- 
is  fatal — but  by  stimulating  conversation, 
contributing  to  it  without  absorbing  it,  and 
so  helping  to  promote  geniality,  good  humor 
and  genuine  enjoyment 

General  Hints. 

You  should  sit  at  a  convenient  distanc*. 
from  the  table,  and  sit  upright.  Do  not  lean 
back,  or  tilt  your  chair,  or  stoop  forward 
towards  the  table. 

When  grace  is  said  at  the  table,  observe 
the  most  respectful  attention,  reverently  in 
clining  the  hea'l. 

Do  not  be  impatient  to  be  served.  Should 
you  need  anything  at  the  hands  of  the  serv 
ants,  do  not  order  them  to  serve  you,  but  re 
quest  them  politely,  in  a  low,  distinct  tone, 
adding,  "  if  you  please."  In  declining  a  viand 
offered  by  them,  say,  "  Not  any,  I  thank  you," 
etc. 

Do  not  pick  your  teeth  at  table,  or  put 
your  hand  over  or  in  your  mouth.  Do  not 
hesitate  to  take  the  last  piece  of  bread  or 
cake  in  a  dish  handed  to  you.  Your  host 
has  more  for  other  guests.  When  a  plate 
containing  food  is  handed  to  you,  set  it  down 
before  you,  and  do  not  pass  it  to  your  neigh 
bor.  Do  not  thrust  your  feet  far  enough 
under  the  table  to  touch  the  feet  of  persons 
opposite  you. 

Tea  or  coffee  should  be  drunk  from  the  cup, 
and  not  poured  into  the  saucer.  Do  not  set 
your  cup  on  the  table-cloth,  as  it  will  soil  it. 
In  passing  your  cup  to  your  hostess  or  the 
waiter,  remove  the  spoon,  and  lay  it  in  the 
saucer,  beside  the  cup.  Always  act  simply 
and  easily,  as  if  you  were  accustomed  tc 
doing  tilings  properly. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

Etiquette  to  be  Observed  at  Weddings. 


'HE  first  great  question  is,  "  When  shall 
the  wedding  take  place?" 

In  Europe  the  favorite  months  for 
weddings  are,  generally  speaking,  June,  July 
and  August.  There  is  some  unaccountable 
prejudice  against  the  month  of  May.  Easter 
week  is  a  very  popular  time  for  marriages. 
Wednesday  or  Thursday  is  considered  the 
best  day — indeed,  any  day  but  Friday,  which 
is  considered  unlucky. 

In  this  country  all  seasons  are  regarded  as 
suitable,  except  that  Lent  is  considered  an 
inappropriate  time,  and  Friday  shares  the 
prejudice  entertained  towards  it  in  Europe. 

It  is  the  privilege  of  the  lady  to  appoint 
the  time  for  the  wedding,  and  the  gentleman 
should  leave  her  unfettered  in  this,  except 
yyr  very  important  reasons. 

The  season  of  the  wedding  day  may  be  gov> 
erned,  to  a  certain  extent,  by  the  place  where 
the  honeymoon  is  intended  to  be  passed ;  and 
by  the  same  rule,  the  honeymoon  is  fre 
quently  governed  by  the  season  at  which  a 
wedding  is  obliged  to  take  place. 

Marriage  is  regulated  in  this  country  by 
the  laws  of  the  various  States  of  the  Union. 
Some  of  these  require  a  license  from  the 
county  court,  or  circuit  court  of  the  city  in 
which  the  marriage  is  to  take  place.  This 
license  must  be  procured  by  the  intended 
husband,  and  he  must  be  accompanied  by  a 
near  relative  of  the  lady — her  father  or 
guardian  is  the  proper  person — who  must 
make  oath  that  she  can  lawfully  contract 
the  proposed  marriage,  and  answer  any  ques 
tions  that  may  be  asked. 

The  bridal  trousseau  does  not  include  plate, 


glass,  china,  furniture,  though  we  have  seem 
these  articles  mentioned  as  belonging  thereto 
in  a  book  professing  to  be  an  authority  on 
the  subject.  It  comprises  simply  the  bride's 
stock  of  attire,  which  is  to  last  her  for  the 
first  few  years  of  her  wedded  life.  She  should 
be  careful,  however  wealthy  she  may  be,  not 
to  have  too  great  a  quantity  of  wearing  ap* 
parel ;  for  the  changes  of  fashion  are  so  fre 
quent  that  it  is  just  possible  the  make  of  many 
of  her  garments  may  be  quite  gone  by  before 
she  has  had  time  to  wear  them. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  an  accurate  state 
ment  of  the  cost  of  a  trousseau,  for  that  is  a 
matter  that  must  be  governed  by  the  means 
and  taste  of  the  bride. 

Gifts  for  the  Happy  Pair. 

Presents  to  the  bride  and  bridegroom-elect 
should  be  sent  in  during  the  week  previous 
to  the  wedding — not  later  than  two  full  days 
before  the  event.  It  is  so  customary  now  to 
make  an  exhibition  of  the  presents  the  day 
before,  or  the  day  of  the  wedding,  that  it  is 
more  than  ever  necessary  that  they  should 
arrive  in  good  time. 

They  should  be  in  accordance  with  thfc 
means,  and  in  harmony  with  the  tastes  of  the 
recipients.  Nothing  is  in  worse  taste  than  to 
send  some  gorgeous  ornament  for  a  house 
where  it  will  be  out  of  keeping  with  all  the  rest 
of  its  belongings,  and  only  serve  fora  monu 
ment  of  the  vulgar  ostentation  of  its  donor. 
We  happen  to  know  of  an  instance  of  a  mosfr 
elaborate  and  ornamentally  decorated  jewel- 
box,  which  was  presented  to  a  young  brides 
who  was  very  blooming  and  very  lovely,  bull 
had  not  a  diamond  to  bless  herself  with. 


64 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


If  people  do  not  know  what  to  send,  or 
what  the  young  couple  require,  they  should 
ask ;  for  nothing  is  more  annoying  than  to 
give  or  receive  duplicate  presents.  We  have 
known  instances  of  five  butter-knives,  three 
soup-ladles,  and  a  couple  of  tea-urns  being 
presented  to  a  young  couple  just  starting  in 
life. 

It  is  customary  for  the  gentleman  to  make 
his  bride  a  present  of  jewelry  to  be  worn  at  her 
wedding,  where  his  means  will  permit  him 
to  do  so. 

Flowers. 

The  bride's  bouquet  should  be  composed 
exclusively  of  white  flowers,  such  as  gard 
enias,  white  azaleas,  or  camellias,  with  a 
little  orange  blossom  intertwined.  It  is  the 
privilege  of  the  groomsman  to  procure  and 
present  this  to  the  bride. 

It  is  generally  considered  a  delicate  atten 
tion  on  the  part  of  the  bridegroom  to  present 
a  bouquet  to  his  future  mother-in-law.  This 
may  be  composed  of  choice  variously  colored 
flowers,  whilst  those  of  the  bridesmaids — 
which  are,  of  course,  provided  by  the  parents 
of  the  bride — should  be  white,  with  an-  edg 
ing  of  pale  blush  roses. 

To  save  trouble  and  anxiety  with  regard 
to  bouquets,  it  is  the  best  plan  to  order  them 
from  some  practical  florist.  He  will  know 
exactly  what  to  send,  and  will  deliver  them 
fresh  on  the  day  of  the  marriage. 

The  Bridesmaids. 

The  bridesmaids  are  usually  selected  from 
among  the  sisters  of  the  bride,  her  cousins, 
or  friends.  The  head-bridesmaid  is  generally 
supposed  to  be  her  dearest  and  most  intimate 
friend.  Occasionally  the  sisters  of  the  bride 
groom  are  asked  to  assist  as  bridesmaids,  but 
it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  bride's 
own  sisters  always  take  the  precedence. 

The  number  of  the  bridesmaids,  of  course, 
wist  be  governed  by  circumstances.  Six  is 


a  good  number,  though  eight  and  twelve 
are  frequent  Recollect,  an  even  numbej 
should  be  always  selected. 

The  dress  of  the  bridesmaids  is  usually  of 
some  light  white  material,  such  as  tulle,  or  tar- 
latane  trimmed  with  some  gay  color  of  a  light 
hue.  They  frequently  wear  wreaths  and 
veils,  but  of  course  of  a  more  light  and  less 
costly  character  than  that  of  the  bride.  It  is 
not  unusual  for  half  to  adopt  one  kind  oi 
trimming  to  their  dress,  and  the  rest  that  of 
a  different  hue ;  but  it  is  more  strictly  eti 
quette  for  ail  of  them  to  be  dressed  alike. 

In  this  country  the  bridesmaids  either  pro 
vide  their  own  dresses  or  may  accept  them 
from  the  biide, 

The  Groomsmen. 

The  number  of  groomsmen  must  corres 
pond  to  that  of  the  bridesmaids.  These  gen 
tlemen  have  mostly  nothing  to  do  but  to  make 
themselves  agreeable  and  dress  well,  except 
the  first  or  principal  groomsman,  who  is 
charged  by  the  bridegroom  with  the  man 
agement  of  the  whole  affair,  and  should  be 
furnished  by  him  with  money  to  pay  all  the 
expenses. 

Where  a  ring  is  used  he  should  take  charge 
of  it,  and  present  it  to  the  bridegroom  at  the 
proper  moment  He  must  hand  the  minis 
ter  his  fee,  and  pay  the  sexton  and  other  per 
sons  entitled  V*  payment  their  legitimate 
charges. 

It  is  his  duty  to  undertake  all  the  arrange 
ments  for  his  friend  on  the  eventful  day,  and 
to  see  that  they  are  all  properly  carried  out 

The  dress  of  the  groomsmen  should  be 
similar  to  that  of  the  bridegroom,  the  only 
difference  being  that  their  costume — say  in 
the  matter  of  gloves,  scarfs  and  trousersv 
should  be  a  shade  darker  in  tone  than  his. 

We  have  seen  weddings  where  all  the 
groomsmen  were  attired  precisely  alike,  biitt 


WAITING  FOR  THE  MINISTEP 
The  Bridegroom. 


BEFORE  THE   WEDDING. 
The  Bride. 


ETIQUETTE  OF  WEDDINGS  AMlJ  FUNERALS. 


gentlemen's  dress  even    more   monotonous 
than  it  usually  is  on  these  occasions. 
The  Bride. 

The  bride  should  retire  to  rest  early  on  the 
evening  preceding  the  wedding,  although 
the  ceremony  may  not  take  place  until  the 
next  evening.  She  should  avoid  all  fatigue 
and  excitement,  and  endeavor  to  look  as  fresh 
and  blooming  as  possible  on  the  all-import- 
occasion. 

The  bride  generally  takes  breakfast  in  her 
own  room,  and  remains  there  until  the  hour 
arrives  for  her  to  resign  herself  to  the  hands 
of  her  maidens  to  be  dressed  for  the  altar. 
It  is  the  bridesmaidens'  privilege  to  perform 
this  service. 

After  she  is  dressed  she  remains  in  her 
room  till  her  carriage  is  announced,  or,  where 
the  wedding  is  at  the  house,  until  it  is  time 
for  her  to  descend  to  the  drawing-room. 
The  bride's  carriage  is  invariably  the  last  to 
teave  the  house,  and  it  contains  but  one 
occupant  besides  herself — namely,  her  father 
w  the  person  who  is  to  give  her  away. 

With  regard  to  the  dress  of  the  bride,  it  is 
xrtmply  impossible  to  lay  down  a  rule.  It 
is  governed  by  the  fashion  of  the  day,  but  is 
always  ^hite  for  a  maiden,  and  of  light  colors 
for  a  widow  contracting  a  second  marriage. 
According  to  the  present  fashion,  the  attire  of 
the  former  is  that  of  a  white  moire  antique 
dress,  with  a  very  long  train,  or  a  plain  white 
silk,  with  a  lace  skirt  over  it ;  wreath  of  orange 
blossoms,  and  Honiton  lace  veil,  descending 
almost  to  the  ground.  Of  course  the  gloves 
should  be  white,  and  the  shoes  or  boots  of 
white  kid,  or  white  satin,  as  the  case  may  be. 

It  is  customary  for  the  bride  to  make  some 
little  present  to  the  bridesmaids  on  the  wed 
ding  morn.  These  should  generally  consist 
of  some  trifling  article  of  jewelry — not  too 
costly — for  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that 
the  gift  should  be  valued  rather  as  a  memento 
5 


of  the   occasion  it  commemorates  than  for 
its  own  intrinsic  worth. 

Should  the  bride  reside  in  another  city  or 
part  of  the  country,  the  bridegroom,  and 
such  of  his  groomsmen  as  are  to  accompany 
him,  should  reach  the  place  the  day  before 
the  ceremony.  They  may  dine  at  the  house 
of  the  bride's  parents ;  but  it  is  not  etiquette 
for  them  to  sleep  there,  even  though  invited 
to  do  so.  They  should  take  up  their  quar 
ters  at  a  hotel,  or  with  some  friend  who  has 
asked  them  to  do  so.  The  bridegroom  ought 
not  see  his  bride  on  the  happy  day  until  he 
takes  his  place  by  her  side  for  the  final  cere 
mony. 

The  Bridegroom. 

It  is  the  custom  in  this  country  for  the 
bridegroom  and  his  groomsmen  to  wear  full 
evening  dress.  This  has  been  described. 
The  English  custom  of  being  married  in 
morning  dress  is  rapidly  coming  into  favor 
in  refined  society. 

In  the  latter  case,  the  dress  of  the  bride 
groom  should  be  a  blue  frock  or  morning 
coat — never  a  black  one—  very  light  trousers 
and  tie,  and  white  gloves.  He  may  also  wear 
a  small  sprig  of  orange  blossom,  or  some  small 
white  flower,  in  his  button-hole.  Boots  may 
be  of  shining  patent  leather  or  cf  kid. 

It  is  customary  for  him  to  make  some  lit 
tle  present  to  his  best  man — say  a  choice 
scarf-pin  or  a  signet-ring — both  as  a  memento 
of  the  day  and  a  slight  acknowledgment  of 
his  valuable  services  on  the  occasion.  He 
may  also  make  a  similar  but  less  expensive 
present  to  each  of  his  groomsmen.  He  is 
not  bound  to  do  so,  however. 

The  bridegroom  should  be  careful  to  see 
that  all  his  arrangements  are  made  before 
hand,  especially  if  the  wedding  is  to  be  fol 
lowed  by  a  bridal  tour.  Tickets  should  be 
purchased  beforehand,  places  reserved  in  par 
lor  cars  and  baggage  checked,  or  had  iiv 


66 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


readiness  for  instant  use.  To  be  obliged  at 
the  last  moment  to  stop  and  attend  to  these 
matters  is  very  annoying,  and  also  prevents 
the  bridegroom  from  looking  after  the  com 
fort  of  his  bride  as  he  should,  and  takes  him 
out  of  the  society  of  his  friends  who  are 
assembled  to  see  him  off,  at  the  very  time  he 
should  be  on  the  spot  to  receive  their  parting 
wishes.  Besides,  these  delays  at  this  time 
may  be  the  cause  of  the  bridal  party  losing 
the  train  or  boat,  which  would  be  a  most 
awkward  mishap  in  a  wedding  journey. 
The  Marriage  Ceremony. 

Marriage  by  a  magistrate  is  perfectly  law 
ful.  Most  persons  prefer  to  be  married  by  a 
clergyman,  and  in  church. 

The  bridegroom  must  send  a  carriage  at 
his  own  expense  for  the  officiating  clergy 
man  and  his  family. 

The  bride's  parents  provide  the  carriages 
for  themselves  and  the  bride. 

Either  the  bridegroom  or  the  groomsmen 
may  bear  the  cost  of  the  carriages  for  the 
bridesmaids  and  groomsmen. 

If  the  wedding  is  in  church,  ushers,  se 
lected  by  the  friends  of  the  bride  and  groom, 
should  be  appointed  to  show  the  guests  to 
seats.  They  should  be  designated  by  a  white 
rosette  worn  on  the  left  lappel  of  the  coat. 

The  front  pews  in  the  church  should  be 
reserved  for  the  families  and  especial  friends 
of  the  happy  pair.  These  are  generally  sep 
arated  from  the  others  by  a  white  ribbon 
drawn  across  the  aisle. 

The  clergyman  is  expected  to  be  at  his 
place  within  the  chancel  rail  at  the  appointed 
hour. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  bridal  party,  the 
ushers  will  meet  them  in  a  body  at  the  door, 
and  precede  them  up  the  principal  aisle  of 
the  church.  Upon  reaching  the  altar  they 
will  separate  to  the  right  and  left,  and  take 
their  places  in  the  rear  of  the  bridal  party. 


Upon  the  entrance  of  the  bridal  party 
within  the  doors  of  the  church,  the  organist 
will  play  a  "Wedding  March,"  and  as  they 
take  their  places  at  the  altar  will  change 
this  to  some  low,  subdued,  but  sweet  and 
appropriate  melody,  which  he  should  con 
tinue  with  taste  and  feeling  throughout  the 
service.  As  the  bridal  party  leave  the 
church,  the  music  should  be  loud  and  jubi 
lant. 

The  bridal  party  should  form  in  the  vesti. 
bule  of  the  church.  The  first  groomsman 
gives  his  arm  to  the  principal  bridesmaid, 
and  these  are  followed  by  the  others  in  their 
proper  order.  Then  comes  the  bridegroom 
with  the  mother  of  the  bride  on  his  arm; 
and  last  of  all  the  bride,  leaning  upon  her 
father's  arm.  At  the  altar  the  bride  takes 
her  place  upon  the  left  of  the  groom ;  her 
father  stands  a  little  in  advance  of  the  rest, 
behind  the  couple ;  her  mother  just  in  the 
rear  of  her  father.  The  bridesmaids  group 
themselves  on  the  left  of  the  bride;  the 
groomsmen  on  the  right  of  the  bridegroom, 
all  in  the  rear  of  the  principals. 
The  Ring. 

Where  a  ring  is  used,  the  first  bridesmaid 
removes  the  glove  of  the  bride.  The  Eng 
lish  very  sensibly  cause  the  bride  and  groom 
to  remove  their  gloves  before  the  commence 
ment  of  the  ceremony.  This  saves  an  awk 
ward  pause. 

The  responses  of  the  bride  and  groom 
should  be  given  clearly  and  distinctly,  but 
not  in  too  loud  a  tone. 

As  the  English  custom,  respecting  wed* 
dings,  is  being  generally  adopted  by  the  best 
society  of  this  country,  it  is  well  to  give  a 
description  of  it  here. 

The  Wedding  Tour. 

The  wedding  tour  should  be  definitely  ar» 
ranged  before  the  marriage,  and  the  tickets 
purchased  before  the  ceremony,  so  that  there 


ETIQUETTE  OF  WEDDINGS  AND  FUNERALS. 


may  t>e  no  delay  or  confusion  upon  the  ar 
rival  of  the  bridal  party  at  the  depot. 

The  bride's  wishes  must  govern  the  tour 
in  everything. 

Arrange  your  movements  so  that  they 
will  be  leisurely.  Avoid  haste  and  bustle, 
and  so  double  the  pleasure  of  your  journey. 

It  is  well  to  select  your  hotel  at  the  places 
you  intend  to  stop,  and  telegraph  ahead  for 
rooms. 

It  is  best  that  the  young  couple  should 
make  the  wedding  tour  unaccompanied  by 
any  of  their  friends.  It  relieves  them  of 
embarrassment,  and  enables  them  to  devote 
themselves  entirely  to  each  other.  Upon 
such  occasions  a  third  person  is  decidedly 
out  of  place,  and  is  sure  to  feel  so. 
Sending  Cards. 

In  some  circles  the  young  couple  send  out 
cards  with  their  wedding  invitations,  stating 
the  day  and  hour  they  will  receive  callers 
after  their  return  from  their  wedding  tour. 
No  one  who  has  not  received  such  a  card 
should  call  upon  a  newly  married  couple. 
Such  cards  should  be  as  simple  and  unosten 
tatious  as  possible.  Where  they  are  sent  out 
the  wedding  journey  must  be  terminated  in 
time  to  allow  the  new  couple  to  be  at  home 
at  the  hour  indicated  for  the  reception  of 
their  visitors. 

Visitors  should  call  punctually  at  the  time 
appointed.  In  some  places  it  is  customary 
*9  offer  the  guests  wedding-cake  and  wine. 

It  is  customary  for  the  mother,  sister,  or 
some  intimate  friend  of  the  bride,  to  assist 
her  in  receiving  these  calls.  This  rule  is 
imperative. 

Wedding  calls  must  be  returned  within  a 

week. 

What  to  Do  at  Funerals. 

The  great  sorrow  brought  upon  a  family 
by  the  death  of  a  loved  one  renders  the  im 
mediate  members  of  the  family  incapable  of 


}  attending  to  the  necessary  arrangements  frw 
the  funeral.  The  services  of  an  intimate 
friend,  or  a  relative,  should,  therefore,  be 
sought.  He  should  receive  geneial  instruc 
tions  from  the  family,  after  which  he  should 
take  entire  charge  of  the  arrangements,  and 
relieve  them  from  all  care  on  the  suoject. 
If  such  a  person  cannot  be  had,  the  arrange 
ments  may  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  the 
sexton  of  the  church  the  deceased  attended 
in  life,  or  of  some  responsible  undertaker. 

The  expenses  of  the  funeral  should  be  in 
accordance  with  the  means  of  the  family. 
No  false  pride  should  permit  the  relatives  to 
incur  undue  expense  in  order  to  make  a 
showy  funeral.  At  the  same  time,  affection 
will  dictate  that  all  the  marks  of  respect 
which  you  can  provide  should  be  paid  to  the 
memory  of  your  beloved  dead,  thus  affording 
evidence  of  sincere  grief  at  your  loss. 

In  some  parts  of  the  country  it  is  custom 
ary  to  send  notes  of  invitation  to  the  funera? 
to  the  friends  of  the  deceased  and  of  tha 
family.  These  invitations  should  be  printed, 
neatly  and  simply,  on  mourning  paper,  with 
envelopes  to  match,  and  should  be  delivered 
by  a  private  messenger.  The  following  is  a 
correct  form,  the  names  and  dates  to  be 
be  changed  to  suit  the  occasion : 

"Yourself  and  family  are  respectfully  in- 
vited  to  attend  the  funeral  of  James  Hill- 
house,  on  Wednesday,  the  4th  instant,  at  3 
o'clock,  P.  M.,  from  his  late  residence,  375 
Beacon  Street,  to  proceed  to  Mount  Vernon 
Cemetery." 

Where  the  funeral  is  from  a  church,  the 
invitation  should  read : 

"Yourself  and  family  are  respectfully  in 
vited  to  attend  the  funeral  of  James  Hill- 
house,  from  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Trinity, 
on  Wednesday,  the  4th  instant,  at  2  o'clock, 
P.  M.,  to  proceed  to  Mount  Vernon  Ceme 
tery  " 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


Where  such  invitations  are  sent,  a  list  of 
rersons  so  invited  must  be  given  to  the  per 
son  in  charge  of  the  funeral,  in  order  that 
he  may  provide  a  sufficient  number  of  car 
nages.  No  one  to  whom  an  invitation  has 
not  been  sent  should  attend  such  a  funeral, 
nor  ohould  those  invited  permit  anything 
but  an  important  duty  to  prevent  their  at 
tendance. 

When  the  funeral  is  at  the  house,  some 
•near  relative  or  intimate  friend  should  act  as 
usher,  and  show  the  company  to  their  seats. 

Preserve  a  decorous  silence  in  the  chamber 
of  death — speak  as  little  as  possible,  and 
then  only  in  low,  subdued  tones.  The 
members  of  the  family  are  not  obliged  to 
recognize  ther  acquaintances.  The  latter 


show  their  sympathy  by  their  presence  and 
considerate  silence. 

As  the  casket  is  borne  from  the  house  to 
the  hearse,  gentlemen  who  may  be  standing 
at  the  door  or  in  the  street  remove  theii 
hats,  and  remain  uncovered  until  it  is  placed 
in  the  hearse. 

The  pall-bearers  should  be  chosen  from 
among  the  intimate  friends  of  the  deceased, 
and  should  correspond  to  him  in  age  and 
general  character. 

With  regard  to  sending  flowers,  the  wishes 
of  the  family  should  be  considered.  If  you 
are  uncertain  upon  this  point,  it  is  safe  to 
send  them.  They  should  be  simple  and 
tasteful,  also  in  keeping1  with  the  age  of  tht 
person  who  has  been  removed  by  death. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

How  to  Converse  Well. 


your  opinion  differs  from  that 
of  others,  maintain  it  with  modesty, 
calmness,  and  gentleness ;  but  never 
be  eager,  loud,  or  clamorous ;  and,  when  you 
find  your  antagonist  beginning  to  grow  warm, 
put  an  end  to  the  dispute  by  some  genteel 
stroke  of  humor.  For,  take  it  for  granted, 
if  the  two  best  friends  in  the  world  dispute 
with  eagerness  upon  the  most  trifling  subject 
imaginable,  they  will,  for  the  time,  find  a 
momentary  alienation  from  each  other.  Dis 
putes  upon  any  subject  are  a  sort  of  trial  of 
the  understanding,  and  must  end  in  the  mor 
tification  of  one  or  other  of  the  disputants. 

On  the  other  hand,  you  need  not  give  a 
universal  assent  to  all  that  you  hear  said  in 
company;  such  an  assent  would  be  mean, 
and  in  some  cases  criminal ;  but  blame  with 
indulgence,  and  correct  with  gentleness. 

Have  a  mind  of  your  own ;  do  not  compel 
any  one  to  say  to  you,  "Do,  please,  differ 
from  me,  just  to  show  that  there  are  two 
of  us." 

Always  look  people  in  the  face  when  you 
Speak  to  them ;  not  doing  it  is  thought  to 
imply  conscious  guilt ;  besides  that,  you  lose 
the  advantage  of  observing  by  their  counte 
nances,  what  impression  your  discourse  makes 
upon  them. 

When  you  find  your  temper  rising,  resolve 
neither  to  speak  to,  nor  answer  the  person 
who  excites  it ;  but  stay  till  you  find  it  sub 
siding,  and  then  speak  deliberately.  En 
deavor  to  be  cool  and  steady  upon  all  occa 
sions;  the  advantages  of  such  a  steady 
calmness  are  innummerable,  and  would  be 
^edious  to  relate^  It  may  be  acquired  by 


care  and  reflection;  if  it  could  not,  that 
reason  which  distinguishes  men  from  brutes 
would  be  given  us  to  very  little  purpose. 
You  scarcely  ever  heard  of  a  Quaker  in  a 
passion.  There  is  in  that  sect  a  decorum 
and  decency,  and  an  amiable  simplicity 
known  in  no  other. 

Witticisms  at  the  Expense  of  Others. 

If  you  have  wit  (which  I  am  not  sure  that 
I  wish  you,  unless  you  have  at  the  same  time 
an  equal  portion  of  judgment  to  keep  it  in 
good  order),  wear  it  like  a  sword  in  the 
scabbard,  and  do  not  brandish  it  to  the 
terror  of  the  whole  company.  Wit  is  a 
shining  quality,  that  everybody  admires; 
most  people  aim  at  it,  all  people  fear  it,  and 
few  love  it,  unless  in  themselves.  A  man 
must  have  a  good  share  of  wit  himself,  to 
endure  a  great  share  in  another.  When  wit 
exerts  itself  in  satire,  it  is  a  most  malignant 
distemper ;  wit,  it  is  true,  may  be  shown  in 
satire,  but  satire  does  not  constitute  wit,  as 
many  imagine.  A  man  of  wit  ought  to  find 
a  thousand  better  occasions  of  showing  it- 
Abstain,  therefore,  most  carefully  from 
satire ;  which,  though  it  fall  on  no  particular 
person  in  the  company,  and  momentarily, 
from  the  malignancy  of  the  human  heart, 
pleases  all ;  yet,  upon  reflection,  it  frightens 
all.  Every  one  thinks  it  may  be  his  turn 
next ;  and  will  hate  you  for  what  he  finds 
you  could  say  of  him,  more  than  be  obliged 
to  you  for  what  you  do  not  say.  Fear  and 
hatred  are  next-door  neighbors;  the  more 
wit  you  have,  the  more  good-nature  and 
politeness  you  must  show,  to  induce  pcopU 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


to  pardon  your  superiority;  for  that  is  no 
easy  mattei. 

Appear  to  have  rather  less  than  more  wit 
than  you  really  have.  A  wise  man  will  live 
at  least  as  much  within  his  wit  as  his  income. 
Content  yourself  with  good  sense  and  reason, 
which  at  the  long  run  are  ever  sure  to  please 
everybody  who  has  either;  if  wit  comes 
mto  the  bargain,  welcome  it,  but  never 
invite  it  Bear  this  truth  always  in  your 
iniud,  that  you  may  be  admired  for  your  wit, 
if  you  have  any ;  but  that  nothing  but  good 
sense  and  good  qualities  can  make  you  be 
beloved.  These  are  substantial  every  day's 
wear ;  whereas,  wit  is  a  holiday  suit,  which 
people  put  on  chiefly  to  be  stared  at 
Avoid  Raillery. 

There  is  a  species  of  minor  wit,  which  is 
much  used,  and  much  more  abused ;  I  mean 
raiifcery.  It  is  a  most  mischievous  and  danger- 
r  ts  weapon  when  in  unskillful  and  clumsy 
lands ;  and  it  is  much  safer  to  let  it  quite  alone 
than  to  play  with  it ;  and  yet  almost  everybody 
plays  with  it,  though  they  see  daily  the  quarrels 
and  heart-burnings  that  it  occasions. 

The  injustice  of  a  bad  man  is  sooner  for 
given  than  the  insults  of  a  witty  one;  the 
former  only  hurts  one's  liberty  and  property ; 
but  the  latter  hurts  and  mortifies  that  secret 
pride  which  no  human  breast  is  free  from. 
True,  there  is  a  sort  of  raillery  which  may 
not  only  be  inoffensive,  but  even  flattering ; 
as  when,  by  a  genteel  irony,  you  accuse 
people  of  those  imperfections  which  they  are 
most  notoriously  free  from,  and  consequently 
insinuate  that  they  possess  the  contrary 
virtues. 

You  may  safely  call  Aristides  a  knave,  or 
a  very  handsome  woman  an  ugly  one.  Take 
care,  however,  that  neither  the  man's  char 
acter,  nor  the  lady's  beauty,  be  in  the  least 
doubtful.  But  this  sort  of  raillery  requires 
a  very  light  and  steady  hand  to  administer 


it  A  little  too  strong,  it  may  be  mistakei? 
into  an  offence ;  and  a  little  too  smooth,  it 
may  be  thought  a  sneer,  which  is  a  most 
odious  thing. 

You  Can  be  Agreeable  if  not  Brilliant. 

It  is  not  given  to  every  man  to  be  a  brilliant 
talker,  or  to  express  himself  in  writing  with 
elegance  or  force.  There  is,  however,  no 
reason  why  any  person  who  goes  into  society 
should  be  ignorant  of  the  rules  of  polite  in 
tercourse,  or  fail  to  master  all  the  customary 
forms  of  address. 

It  is  almost  useless  to  say  that  your  con 
versation  should  be  adapted  to  your  com 
pany:  that  is,  nevertheless,  the  golden  rule 
on  this  subject  Avoid  politics  and  religion, 
and  all  topics  likely  to  excite  argument,  or  to 
lead  to  warmth  of  feeling  or  expression. 

Talk  of  yourself  and  your  own  affairs  as 
little  as  possible.  Those  of  the  personages 
you  are  addressing  are  sure  to  interest  them 
far  more.  Above  all,  never  drag  in  the 
names  of  distinguished  persons  to  whom, 
you  may  be  related  or  who  may  be  num 
bered  among  your  friends :  nothing  is  more 
vulgar  or  offensive.  To  speak  of  your  own 
exploits,  or  to  give  illustrations  of  your  own 
prowess  and  sagacity,  is  also  offensive. 

Restrain  any  desire  to  shine,  and  be  most 
particular  not  to  monopolize  the  conversa 
tion.  It  is  presumptuous  in  one  person  to 
attempt  to  lead  the  conversation,  much  more 
to  monopolize  it 

Offensive  Flattery. 

Avoid  whatever  is  personal  in  tone  or  allu 
sion;  neither  flatter  nor  make  observations 
of  an  offensive  character;  do  not  even  indulge 
in  joking  unless  with  friends,  who  will  not 
be  likely  to  put  a  false  construction  on  your 
words,  or  to  take  in  earnest  what  you  mean 
in  sport 

Do  not  speak  in  a  loud  voice,  or  assume  a 


HOW  TO  CONVERSE  WELL. 


dictatorial  manner.  If  any  statement  is 
made  which  you  know  to  be  incorrect  or 
untrue,  be  very  careful  of  the  manner  in 
which  you  correct  the  speaker.  Never 
charge  him  with  having  made  a  willful  mis- 
statement  ;  suggest  a  correction,  rather  than 
make  it;  and  if  the  point  in  question  is 
immaterial  it  is  best  to  let  it  pass  unnoticed. 
[f  addressed  in  an  offensive  tone,  or  if  an 
objectionable  manner  is  adopted  towards 
you,  it  is  best  not  to  notice  it;  and  even 
when  you  perceive  an  intention  to  annoy  or 
insult,  either  pass  it  over  for  the  time,  or 
take  an  opportunity  of  withdrawing.  Such 
a  thing  as  a  "scene"  is,  above  all  things,  to 
be  avoided. 

Talk  Plain  English. 

Do  not  interlard  your  conversation  with 
French  and  other  languages.  If  you  are 
tempted  into  a  quotation  from  a  foreign 
or  classic  language  apologize  to  the  company 
for  its  use,  or  translate  it ;  but  not  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  convey  the  idea  that  you  are 
glad  to  display  your  learning,  or  that  your 
hearers  are  in  need  of  such  translation. 

Puns  and  slang  terms  are  to  be  avoided  as 
much  as  possible.  And  remember  there  are 
various  kinds  of  slang :  there  is  the  slang  of 
the  drawing-room  as  will  as  that  of  the  lower 
classes,  or  of  out-door  life.  Every  profession 
has  its  own  technical  terms  and  set  of  ex 
pressions,  which  should  be  avoided  in  general 
society. 

Should  a  person  enter  the  room  in  whicli 
you  are  conversing,  and  the  conversation  be 
continued  after  his  arrival,  it  is  only  courteous 
to  acquaint  him  with  the  nature  of  the  sub 
ject  to  which  it  relates,  and  to  give  him  an 
'idea  of  what  has  passed. 

In  conversing  with  either  superiors  or 
equals  do  not  address  them  by  name.  If  they 
are  persons  of  rank  or  title,  do  not  say, 
44  Yes,  Colonel,"  "No,  Governor,"  "Of  course, 


Mr.  President ; "  thougli  you  may  occasion 
ally  make  use  of  some  such  a  phrase  as, 
"You  will  perceive,  Colonel,"  "You  will  , 
understand,  Governor."  Avoid  the  too  fre 
quent  use  of  "  Sir,"  or  "  Madam,"  aud  beware 
of  addressing  a  comparative  acquaintance  as 
"  My  dear  sir,"  or  "  My  dear  madam."  In 
speaking  of  third  persons  always  use  the 
prefix  "  Mr."  or  "  Mrs."  to  their  names  ;  do 
not  refer  to  them  by  their  initials,  as  Mr.  or 
Mrs.  B.  Never  allude  to  any  one  as  a  "  party  '* 
or  a  "  gent " ;  and,  above  all,  refrain  from 
any  of  the  vulgarisms  to  which  some  persons 
have  recourse  when  they  cannot  recollect 
the  name  of  a  person,  place,  or  thing.  Can 
anything  be  more  inelegant  or  atrocious  than 
such  a  sentence  as  this?  "  Oh,  Jones,  I  met 
what's-his-name  driving  that  what-is-it  of 
his,  down  by  the — you  know— close  to  what 
you-call-'im's  house."  Yet  this  kind  of  re 
mark  is  heard  every  day. 

Short  Answers. 

Never  give  short  or  sharp  answers  in  ordi 
nary  conversation.  To  do  so  is  simply  rude, 
"  I  do  not  know,"  or  "  I  cannot  tell,"  are 
the  most  harmless  words  possible,  and  yet 
they  may  be  rendered  very  offensive  by  the 
tone  and  manner  in  which  they  are  pro 
nounced.  Never  reply — in  answer  to  a  ques 
tion  like  the  following,  4<  Did  Mrs.  Grundy 
tell  you  how  Miss  Clifton's  marriage  was  get 
ting  on  ?  " — "  I  did  not  ask."  It  is  almost 
like  saying,  I  never  ask  impertinent  ques 
tions,  though  you  do;  we  learn  plenty  of 
things  in  the  world  without  having  firsi  in 
quired  about  them.  If  you  must  say,  you 
did  not  ask,  say,  that  "  you  forgot  to  ask," 
"neglected  it,"  or  "did  not  think  of  it'* 
We  can  always  be  ordinarily  civil,  even  if 
we  cannot  always  be  absolutely  wise. 

Express  yourself  simply  and  Clearly 
Avoid  all  attempts  at  elegance  or  pompoMtv 
Use  the  shortest  and  plainest  words  von  <M<  . 


72  RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE 

and  when  you  have  said  what  you  desire  to 
say,  stop. 

Speak  in  a  distinct,  well-modulated  voice, 
but  avoid  loud  talking.  A  low,  sweet  voice 
is  one  of  a  woman's  greatest  charms,  and 
will  never  fail  to  win  her  the  admiration  of 
men. 

Mothers  should  beware  of  praising  or 
talking  much  of  their  children  in  company. 
Such  topics,  though  interesting  to  them 
selves,  are  tedious  to  others.  Mere  courtesy 
will  prevent  your  visitor  from  differing  with 
you,  but  he  will  be  glad  to  discontinue  the 
conversation. 

Remember  "  brevity  is  the  soul  of  wit ;  " 
therefore  "speak  little,  but  speak  well,  if 
you  would  be  thought  a  person  of  good 
sense," 

Ancient  Anecdotes. 


Be  cautious  in  relating  anecdotes.  CJnless 
you  can  relate  a  story  with  ease  and  effect,  it 
is  better  not  to  attempt  it  Avoid  laughing 
at  your  own  wit.  Habitual  relaters  of  anec 
dotes  are  apt  to  become  great  bores. 

Do  not  mimic  the  peculiarities,  infirmities, 
or  short-comings  of  others  in  general  society. 
You  may  give  offence  to  some  one  present 
who  is  a  friend  of  the  person  caricatured. 

Do  not  speak  of  what  passes  in  a  house 
that  you  are  visiting. 

You  need  not  tell  all  the  truth  unless  to 
those  who  have  a  right  to  know  it  all.  But 
let  all  you  tell  be  truth. 

Do  not  offer  advice  unless  you  know  it 
will  be  followed.  Beware,  however,  of  ad 
vising  an  angry  or  an  opinionated  person. 

Be  cautious  as  to  asking  questions.  The 
reply  may  be  very  embarrassing  to  the  per 
son  of  whom  the  question  is  asked. 

Do  not  volunteer  information,  especially 
fai  public ;  but  be  very  sure  you  are  correct 
in  what  you  state  as  facts. 


FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 

Do  not  sit  dumb  in  company,  but  beai 
your  share  in  the  general  conversation.  Do 
this  with  modesty  and  self-possession,  neither 
thrusting  yourself  forward,  nor  hesitating 
where  you  should  speak.  It  is  better  to  be 
a  good  listener  than  a  good  talker. 

A  Prudent  Reserve. 


It  is  not  necessary  to  express  your  opin 
ions  upon  all  subjects;  but  if  you  give 
utterance  to  them,  do  so  fearlessly,  frankly, 
and  with  courteous  regard  for  the  opinions 
of  others.  The  greater  your  learning,  the 
more  modest  should  be  your  manner  at 
expressing  it. 

When  we  speak  of  ourselves  and  anothei 
person,  whether  he  is  absent  or  present,  pro 
priety  requires  us  to  mention  ourselves  last 
Thus  we  should  say,  "  he  and  I,"  "  you  and  L* 

Do  not  indulge  in  words  or  phrases  of 
double  meaning.  To  do  so  is  to  draw  upon 
yourself  the  contempt  of  those  who  hea» 
you. 

Avoid  exaggerated  expressions.  Speak 
simply,  and  with  moderation,  or  men  will 
doubt  your  statements. 

Always  be  good-tempered.  Nothing  is  so 
agreeable  or  so  useful  in  society,  as  a  pleasant, 
even  temper. 

What  may  be  very  entertaining  in  com 
pany  with  ignorant  people,  may  be  tiresome 
to  those  who  are  better  informed  than  your 
self. 

In  conversing  with  a  lady,  do  not  appear 
to  bring  your  conversation  down  to  her  level. 
Sensible  women  detest  "small  talk,"  and  re 
gard  with  contempt  the  man  who  appears  to 
think  they  cannot  converse  intelligently  V^JOD 
subjects  generally  treated  of  in  society. 

Be  lenient  to  the  weakness  and  foibles  of 
your  friends.  Remember  that  you  need  a 
like  forbearance  from  them. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Etiquette  of  Correspondence. 


CORRESPONDENCE  between  two 
persons,  is  simply  a  conversation 
reduced  to  writing;  in  which  one 
party  says  all  that  he  has  to  communicate, 
replies  to  preceding  inquiries,  and,  in  his 
turn,  proposes  questions,  without  interrup 
tion  by  the  other ;  who  takes  precisely  the 
same  course  in  his  answer.  We  should  write 
to  an  absent  person,  as  we  would  speak  to 
the  same  party  if  present  To  a  superior, 
we  ought  to  be  respectful ;  to  a  parent,  duti 
ful  and  affectionate ;  to  a  friend,  frank  and 
easy ;  and  clear  and  definite  in  our  expres 
sions  to  all. 

Conciseness  is  one  of  the  charms  of 
fetter-writing :  «re  do  not  mean  to  say  that  a 
letter  should  not  contain  sufficient  facts,  ideas, 
mnd  feelings ;  but  they  ought  to  be  as  briefly 
expressed  as  perspicuity  and  elegance  will 
permit  If  we  encumber  an  idea  with  ver 
biage,  it  loses  its  power.  There  are  some 
persons  who,  when  they  express  a  feeling, 
or  a  thought,  of  which  simplicity  should  be 
the  charm,  clothe  it  with  all  the  verbal 
treasures  they  possess:  this  is  like  wearing 
one's  whole  wardrobe  at  once ;  the  figure  is 
lost  in  a  mass  of  drapery. 

Lengthened  periods  are  as  much  out  of 
place  in  a  letter  as  they  would  be  in  conver 
sation,  of  which  letters  may  be  called  the 
prototype;  for  they  tire  the  reader  even 
more  than  they  would  the  hearer:  when 
,written,  their  faults  are  also  perceived  with 
much  less  difficulty  than  when  spoken.  The 
style,  of  course,  may  rise  with  the  subject ;  but 
all  parade  of  words  should  be  dropped  in  a 


familiar  epistle.  The  death  of  a  friend  01 
relation,  a  calamity,  or  any  circumstance  of 
grave  importance,  should  not  be  communi 
cated  in  the  same  manner  as  a  trifling  occur 
rence,  or  even  a  happy  event:  brevity,  in 
these  cases,  is  beauty ;  in  those  it  would  be 
demed  unfeeling  and  abrupt 

To  an  absent  friend,  an  elaborate  letter 
will  be  most  welcome :  a  stranger,  a  superior, 
or  a  person  of  whom  the  writer  seeks  some 
thing,  will  recoil  from  a  "folio  of  four  pages," 
and,  perhaps  throw  it  aside  unread,  or,  at 
best,  but  slightly  skimmed  over.  When  the 
party,  to  whom  a  letter  is  addressed,  is  unin 
terested  in  the  subject  on  which  it  is  written, 
the  writer  of  it  should  display  a  brevity,  which 
will  attract  attention,  and  insure  a  perusal ;  no 
unnecessary  ornament  should  be  used,  nor,  in 
fact,  anything  introduced  but  what  is  import 
ant  and  bears  strongly  on  the  case  stated,  01 
the  inquiry  made. 

All  those  little  personal  details  and  trifling 
circumstances  which  are  so  delightful  in  a 
letter  from  a  friend,  would  fatigue  and  dis 
gust  a  stranger,  to  whom  they  are  destitute 
of  interest.  We  should  never  suffer  our 
selves  to  be  seduced  to  adopt  a  fine-sounding 
epithet  unless  we  are  perfectly  well  acquainted 
with  its  meaning ;  or  to  indulge  in  a  simile, 
unless  we  are  capable  of  wielding  it  with  ease, 
It  is  dangerous  to  meddle  with  fine  phrases, 
if  we  are  unaccustomed  to  the  manner  of 
using  them.  A  person  who,  by  invariably 
keeping  within  the  beaten  path,  and  nevel 
running  astray  after  "the  butterflies  of  lan 
guage,"  had  been  accounted,  by  his  corre- 

7* 


74 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


spondents,  a  plain,  sensible  sort  of  man, 
destroyed  his  reputation  by  a  congratulatory 
epistle  on  a  friend's  marriage,  written  in  a 
style  which  he,  doubtless,  considered  of  great 
elevation  and  beauty.  No  one  had  ever  sus- 
.pected  him  to  be  a  blockhead  before ;  but 
the  letter  in  question  was  evidence  enough 
to  convict  him,  even  in  the  opinions  of  his 
most  partial  friends. 
You  Should  Write  as  You  would  Speak. 

In  all  epistolary  correspondence,  the  choice 
of  embellishments,  the  language,  subjects, 
matter  and  manner,  in  general,  should,  as  in 
conversation,  be  governed  by  the  relative 
situations  in  life,  as  to  age,  rank,  character, 
etc.,  of  the  parties  addressed  and  addressing. 
A  lady  neither  writes  nor  speaks  to  a  gentle 
man  as  she  would  to  one  of  her  own  sex,  and 
a  gentleman  addresses  a  lady  in  a  style  of  more 
courteousness  and  respect  than  he  does  a 
male  correspondent.  The  language  of  a 
mother  to  a  daughter  is  very  different  from 
that  of  a  daughter  to  her  mother. 

In  our  first  letter  to  a  person,  as  on  our 
first  introduction,  we  should  be  respectful, 
and  by  no  means  familiar.  The  distance 
which  either  age,  rank,  sex,  or  any  other  cir 
cumstance,  occasions,  ought  always  to  be  re 
membered.  We  should  never  forget  what 
we  are,  and  what  the  person  is  whom  we  ad 
dress.  We  should  say  only  precisely  what 
ought  to  be  said — should  write,  in  fact,  with 
the  same  restrictions  as  we  would  speak, 
supposing  the  party  present  whom  we  ad 
dress  ;  and  should  bear  in  mind,  that  our 
letters  are,  in  every  respect,  representations 
of  our  own  persons — that  they  may  be  said 
to  speak  for  us ;  and  that  an  estimate  of  our 
character  and  manners  is  frequently  formed 
from  the  style  and  language  of  our  epistles. 

How  frequently  do  we  hear  persons  ex 
claiming,  that  they  do  not  know  what  to 
unite  about !  Such  an  observation  is  a  dis 


grace  to  the  person  who  makes  it.  Were 
the  mother,  the  sister,  the  cousin,  friend,  01 
even  acquaintance,  to  enter  the  room  in 
which  you  are  sitting  at  an  escrutoire,  with 
a  blank  sheet  of  paper  before  you,  would 
you  have  nothing  to  say?  Would  you  have 
nothing  to  communicate?  Nothing  to  in 
quire  ?  No  hitherto  unanswered  question  to 
reply  to?  There  is  but  little  doubt  that  a 
host  of  facts,  feelings,  questions,  and  answers, 
would  crowd  to  your  lips  for  utterance. 

But  it  will,  perhaps,  be  observed  by  some, 
that  "  there  is  such  a  difference  between  talk 
ing  and  writing."  Truly  so;  the  great  dif 
ference  is,  that  in  this,  the  pen — in  that,  the 
tongue — is  the  agent  of  expression.  What 
ever  we  should  say  to  a  person  present,  we 
may  write  if  absent.  There  is,  of  course,  a 
choice  of  subjects  to  be  made,  and  a  proper 
mode  to  be  chosen  of  communicating  them. 
To  regulate  that  choice,  we  should  select  as 
though  the  friend,  to  whom  we  are  writing, 
were  by  our  side,  and  could  remain  with  us 
but  a  short  time.  In  that  case  we  should 
speak  only  of  those  things  which  were  of 
the  greatest  importance,  and  express  them 
at  once  as  clearly  and  concisely  as  possible; 
and  pleasantly,  didactically,  modestly,  feel 
ingly,  or  otherwise,  according  to  their  naturm 
and  the  party  whom  we  address. 

Letters  of  Compliment,  Inquiry,  and  Con* 
gratulation. 

Politeness,  and  the  forms  of  society,  fre 
quently  require  us  to  write  letters  of  com 
pliment,  inquiry,  or  condolence,  to  those 
with  whom  we  are  upon  the  slightest  pos 
sible  terms  of  intimacy.  Such  letters,  which 
are  generally  supposed  to  be  the  most  difficult, 
are,  in  fact,  the  most  easy  of  execution ;  for 
the  circumstance  which  calls  for  the  letter, 
affords  us  a  subject ;  to  this  the  letter  must 
be  restricted. 

It  is  true,  tliat  there  is  a  graceful  manner 


ETIQUETTE  OF  CORRESPONDENCE. 


75 


of  framing  an  inquiry  and  making  a  com 
pliment.,  and  this  manner  it  is  vain  to  seek 
for,  by  labor,  at  the  moment  the  letter  is 
required ;  if  it  be  difficult  to  compose,  it  will 
seem  studied,  heartless,  and  inelegant  in  ex 
pression.  Simplicity  and  ease  impart  the 
chief  grace  that  can  be  given  to  a  condoling 
or  complimentary  note. 

Jealousy  to  be  Avoided. 

A  letter  of  congratulation  should  be  as  the 
thornless  rose  :  the  least  ap^arance  of  envy, 
or  jealousy,  at  the  good  fortune  of  those 
whom  we  felicitate,  is  unpardonable ;  it 
should  contain  no  hint  of  any  hope  that  the 
advancement,  or  change  of  situation,  upon 
which  the  compliment  is  made,  may  afford 
the  person  addressed  the  means  of  conferring 
a  benefit  on  the  party  writing.  It  should,  in 
fact,  be  an  unmixed  expression  of  pleasure 
and  congratulation  on  the  event  that  calls 
for  its  production.  Care  must,  nevertheless, 
be  taken  to  keep  within  due  bounds ;  to  ex 
aggerate  in  our  congratulations,  is  to  become 
keenly  satirical. 

In  a  letter  of  congratulation  we  should  be 
cheerful ;  from  an  epistle  of  condolence  all 
pleasantry  should  be  banished :  to  exhibit 
the  wit  which  we  possess,  at  such  a  time,  is 
like  smiling  at  a  funeral,  to  display  a  beauti 
ful  set  of  teeth.  When  addressing  a  person 
who  is  laboring  under  any  grievous  cal 
amity,  it  is  bad  taste  to  make  light  of  it ;  by 
treating  that  loss  as  a  matter  which  a  little 
firmness  would  enable  the  party  who  has 
suffered  it,  to  endure  calmly,  we  irritate, 
rather  than  soothe.  It  is  better  to  enter 
into  the  feelings  of  the  mourner — to  eulogize 
the  departed  relation — to  rebuke  the  ingrati 
tude  of  the  false  friend — to  confess  the 
inconstancy  of  fortune,  or  otherwise,  accord 
ing  to  the  circumstances ;  and,  without 
magnifying,  to  lament  the  affliction. 


A  celebrated  lady,  in  a  letter  of  condol 
ence  to  a  friend,  uses  this  language : — "  The 
more  I  think  on  the  loss  you  have  just  met 
with,  the  greater  it  appears,  and  the  more  it 
affects  me.  He  was,  indeed,  worthy  of  be 
ing  the  head  of  such  a  family  as  yours,  and 
can  never  be  replaced  !  We  have  every  rea-' 
son  to  believe  that  he  is  happy ;  we  should 
weep  for  ourselves,  therefore,  rather  than  for 
him.  My  heart  grieves  for  your  situation ; 
it  will  be  long  ere  you  can  console  yourself 
for  such  a  separation.  If  I  were  mistress  of 
my  own  actions,  I  would  certainly  abandon 
every  thing  to  be  near  you." 

This  language  is  balm  to  the  wounded 
mind,  which  rejects  consolation  from  those 
who  do  not  seem  sensible  of  the  extent  of 
the  sorrow  under  which  it  labors.  Such  a 
subject  must,  nevertheless,  be  treated  with  a 
delicate  hand,  for,  tiy  exaggeration,  we 
should  aggravate  rather  than  console. 
Letters  of  Recommendation. 

A  letter  of  recommendation  is  a  letter  of ' 
business,  and  should  be  composed  with  care : 
it  is  a  guarantee  to  the  extent  of  language, 
for  the  party  recommended ;  truth,  there 
fore,  should  never  be  sacrificed  to  condescen 
sion,  false  kindness  or  politeness.  To  write 
a  letter  of  recommendation  contrary  to  one's 
own  opinion  and  knowledge  of  the  person 
recommended,  Is  to  be  guilty  of  a  great 
imprudence. 

To  say  all  that  is  necessary,  in  a  clear  and 
distinct  manner,  and  nothing  more,  is  the 
grand  merit  of  a  letter  on  business.  Pleas 
antry  and  pathos  would  be  greatly  misplaced 
in  it,  unless  it  be  of  a  mixed  nature ;  that 
is,  necessarily,  or  properly,  embracing  some 
other  subject.  Brilliant  diction  is  a  dress  in 
which  directions  on  business  should  never  be 
clothed.  The  style  ought  to  be  precise,  suf 
ficiently  copious,  but  not  redundant.  Every 
thing  necessary  should  be  stated,  plainly  and 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


unequivocally;  so  that  the  party  addressed 
may  be  in  full  possession  of  our  desires  and 
opinions,  on  the  subject  of  our  correspond 
ence.  Ambiguity  is  nowhere  so  unpardon 
able  as  in  a  letter  on  business. 
Letters  of  Advice. 

It  is  a  maxim  with  the  discreet,  never  to 
give  advice  until  they  have  been  thrice  asked 
for  it ;  in  many  instances,  to  volunteer  it,  is 
to  be  offensive  to  those  whom  you  wish  to 
benefit ;  it  is  much  more  pleasant  to  give 
than  to  receive  it.  Unsolicited  counsel  is  a 
bitter  draught;  and  even  those  who  crave 
your  opinions,  will  feel  themselves  offended 
if  you  be  forward,  as  well  as  frank,  in  reply 
ing  to  them.  A  mendicant  implored  alms  ; 
the  party  whom  the  unfortunate  man  ad 
dressed,  instead  of  relieving  his  necessities, 
told  him  he  was  strong  and  youthful,  and 
should  rather  work,  than  live  by  begging. 
"  I  asked  you  for  money,"  replied  the  mendi 
cant,  "  not  for  advice."  People,  in  general, 
are  but  too  prone  to  take  the  same  course  : 
they  are  applied  to  for  succor,  and,  in 
return,  they  give  counsel. 

A  friend  should,  perhaps,  give  auvice  to  a 
friend,  if  he  should  see  occasion  to  do  so, 
however  unpalatable  it  may  be ;  but,  in  gen 
eral,  we  cannot  be  too  sparing  of  our  counsel. 

It  is  a  foolish,  but  not  an  uncommon  prac 
tice,  to  ask  advice  on  an  act  which  has  been 
performed,  as  young  folks  sometimes  engage 
themselves  to  be  married,  and  then  ask 
advice  of  the  old  folks ;  in  such  a  case  it  is 
useless,  in  reply,  to  adopt  such  terms  as  "  If 
I  had  the  direction  of  the  affair,  I  would 
have  acted  otherwise  ;  "  or,  "I  would  rather 
you  had  done  so  and  so."  If  you  cannot 
approve  what  is  irrevocable,  be  silent  upon 
the  subject.  If,  however,  you  should  be,  in 
some  measure,  compelled  to  give  another 
your  counsel,  be  prodigal  of  conciliatory, 
and  sparing  of  positive,  phrases.  "  With 


deference  to  your  own  judgment,  it  seems  to 
me ;  "  "I  may  be  mistaken  ;  you  are,  doubt 
less,  the  best  qualified  to  judge  ;  I,  therefore, 
merely  submit,"  and  similar  expressions,  will 
save  you  from  being  offensive,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  afford  you  a  graceful  manner  of 
expressing  the  opinions  which  your  con 
science  dictates  on  the  occasion. 

Use  of  the  Third  Person. 

It  is  a  matter  of  surprise,  that  any  persoi 
who  has  received  a  tolerable  education,  anc 
is  at  all  versed  in  the  forms  of  good  society  > 
should  fall  into  so  gross  an  error,  as  to  use 
the  first  person  at  the  conclusion  of  a  note 
which  has  been  commenced  in  the  third; 
and  yet  this  is  sometimes  the  case.  For 
example:  "Miss  Johnson  presents  her  com 
pliments  to  Mr.  Brooks,  and  begs  to  be  in 
formed  at  what  hour  Mr.  Brooks  intends  to 
start  for  Philadelphia  to-morrow,  as  I  particu 
larly  wish  to  see  him  before  his  departure : 
and  remain,  sir,  yours  sincerely,"  etc.  Such 
negligence  and  inelegance  are  so  obvious, 
that  they  may  be  easily  avoided. 

Notes  written  in  the  third  person,  are 
frequently  rendered  ambiguous,  and  some 
times  quite  unintelligible,  by  a  confusion  of 
the  personal  pronouns;  which,  unless  the 
sentences  be  carefully  constructed,  seem  to 
apply  equally  well  to  the  writer  as  to  the 
receiver.  There  is  a  French  anecdote  re 
lated,  of  a  rather  ludicrous  mistake  arising 
from  the  ambiguity  of  a  letter  written  by 
one  friend  to  another,  in  the  third  person. 
Monsieur  A.  addressed  Monsieur  B.  who 
dwelt  at  some  distance  from  the  town  where 
Monsieur  A.  resided,  in  these  terms : — 
"Monsieur  A.  presents  his  compliments  to 
his  friend,  Monsieur  B.,  and  has  the  satis 
faction  of  informing  him,  that  he  has  just 
been  appointed,  by  government,  to  the  luc 
rative  and  honorable  post  of,  etc,  [naming 
the  office],  in  his  native  town."  Go  receipfe 


ETIQUETTE  OF  CORRESPONDENCE. 


77 


of  this  letter,  B.  posted,  with  all  possible 
speed,  to  throw  himself  at  the  feet  of  A., 
and,  with  the  warmest  expressions  of  grati 
tude,  thanked  his  supposed  benefactor.  A. 
was  amazed,  and  earnestly  inquired  the  cause 
of  B.'s  raptures.  "How!"  exclaimed  B., 
'have  I  not  sufficient  reason  to  be  grateful? 
Have  you  not  obtained  for  me  the  important 
post  of  so  and  so?"  "Not  at  all,  my  dear 
friend,"  replied  A.,  "it  is /who  have  been 
appointed  to  the  office;  and  I  wrote  to 
acquaint  you  of  the  circumstance,  thinking 
you  would  be  happy  to  hear  of  your  old 
companion's  excellent  fortune."  B.  perused 
the  note  again,  and  discovered  that,  like  one 
of  the  ancient  oracles,  it  contained  two  mean 
ings  which  were  directly  opposite  to  each 
other. 

Notes  written  in  the  third  person,  arc  fre 
quently  used,  on  ordinary  occasions,  between 
equals  in  age  or  rank,  to  make  a  reply  to  any 
request ;  to  convey  civil  inquiries,  or  compli 
ments,  etc.  For  these  and  similar  purposes, 
this  form  is  elegant  and  unexceptionable. 
Manner  of  Replying  to  Letters. 

Every  letter,  that  is  not  insulting,  merits 
a  reply,  if  it  be  required  or  necessary.  All 
the  preceding  observations,  with  regard  to 
rank,  age,  etc.,  are,  of  course,  applicable  to 
replies.  If  the  letter  contains  a  request, 
accede  to  it  gracefully,  and  without  ostenta 
tion,  or  refuse  without  harshness.  An  answer 
to  a  letter  of  condolence,  or  congratulation, 
should  be  grateful.  The  subjects  should 
succeed  each  other  in  proper  order ;  and  the 
questions  put,  be  consecutively  answered.  In 
familiar  correspondence,  a  greater  latitude  of 
arrangement  is  allowed ;  but  even  in  this,  no 
question  should  be  left  unanswered.  In  all 
replies,  it  is  usual  to  acknowledge  the  receipt, 
and  to  mention  the  date,  of  the  last  letter 
received :  this  should  be  an  invariable  rule ; 
by  neglecting  it,  your  correspondent  may  be 


left  in  doubt;  or  very  properly  deem  you 
guilty  of  offensive  inattention. 

Correct  Punctuation. 

Punctuation  is  a  matter  of  the  utmost 
importance  in  every  species  of  literary  com 
position  ;  it  has  been  properly  termed,  the 
very  marshalling  and  arranging  of  the  words 
of  a  language ;  without  it,  there  can  be  no 
clearness,  strength,  or  accuracy.  Its  utility 
consists  in  separating  the  different  portions 
of  what  is  written,  in  such  a  manner  that 
the  subjects  may  be  properly  classed  and 
subdivided,  so  as  to  convey  the  precise  mean 
ing  of  the  writer  to  the  reader ;  to  show  the 
relation  which  the  various  parts  bear  to  each 
other;  to  unite  such  as  ought  to  be  con 
nected,  and  keep  apart  such  as  have  no 
mutual  dependence. 

It  is  a  circumstance  very  much  to  be 
lamented,  that  so  little  attention  is  paid  to 
punctuation.  As  there  is  no  positive  system 
of  punctuation  to  direct  the  writer,  the 
modern  editions  of  good  authors  should  be 
carefully  studied,  in  order  to  acquire  the 
leading  principles  of  the  science.  The  con* 
struction  of  sentences  may  be  examined,  and 
the  mode  adopted  of  dividing  them,  attended 
to  with  considerable  advantage.  It  is  a  good 
plan,  for  improvement  in  pointing,  to  copy 
a  page  of  some  standard  work,  without  capi 
tals  or  points ;  and,  after  it  has  been  laid 
aside  for  a  few  days,  to  endeavor  to  write  it 
again  with  the  proper  points ;  by  a  subse 
quent  comparison  with  the  original,  the 
writer  may  discover  his  errors,  and  guard 
against  similar  blunders  in  his  future  exer 
cises. 

It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  he  will 
attain,  by  these,  or  any  other  means,  the 
power  of  pointing  a  page,  in  complete  ac 
cordance  with  a  printed  work  ;  but  he  will, 
no  doubt,  acquire  a  degree  of  knowledge  and 
experience  in  punctuation,  which  cannot 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


fail  to  be  of  considerable  utility  to  him  in 
his  future  epistolary  productions. 

In  order  to  show  the  necessity  of  not 
merely  using  points,  but  punctuating  prop 
erly,  the  following  passage  from  a  work  on 
this  subject,  in  which  it  is  given  as  a  study, 
but  without  any  key,  is  submitted  to  the 
reader : 

"  The  persons  inside  the  coach  were  Mr. 
lyink  a  clergyman  his  son  a  lawyer  Mr. 
Boscat  a  foreigner  his  lady  and  a  little 
child." 

As  this  passage  stands,  without  points,  it 
is  unintelligible:  by  different  modes  of 
punctuating  it,  several  alterations  may  be 
made  in  its  sense  ;  not  only  as  to  the  number 
of  persons  in  the  coach,  but,  also,  as  to  their 
country,  professions  and  relationship  to  each 
other.  By  a  change  of  points,  the  lady  may 
be  described  as  the  wife  of  either  one  of  two 
persons;  Mr.  Link's  son  may  be  made  a 
clergyman  or  a  lawyer,  at  will;  or  his  son 
may  be  taken  from  him  and  given  to  a 
clergyman,  whose  name  is  not  mentioned. 
We  shall  give  three  or  four  different  modes 
of  punctuating  this  passage.  The  reader 
may,  if  he  think  fit,  amuse,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  convince  himself  of  the  propriety  of 
attending  to  the  proper  use  of  stops,  by  a 
number  of  variations; — each  of  them  cor 
rect  in  itself,  at  the  same  time,  endowing 
the  words  with  a  different  signification  : 

"  The  persons  inside  the  coach  were  Mr. 
Link,  a  clergyman,  his  son,  a  lawyer,  Mr. 
Boscat,  a  foreigner,  his  lady  and  a  little 
child." 

By  this  mode  of  pointing,  it  would  appear 
that  there  were  eight  individuals  in  the 
coach  ;  namely — a  clergyman,  a  lawyer,  a 
foreigner  and  his  lady,  a  little  child,  Mr. 
Link,  Mr.  Boscat,  and  the  clergyman's  son. 
"The  persons  inside  the  coach  were  Mr. 
Link,  a  clergyman ;  his  son,  a  lawyer ;  Mr. 


Boscat,  a  foreigner;  his  lady;    and  a  little 
child." 

This  change  in  the  punctuation  would 
reduce  the  parties  in  the  coach,  exclusive  of 
the  lady  and  child,  to  three  persons,  and 
make  Mr.  Link  himself  a  clergyman,  Mr. 
Link's  son  a  lawyer,  and  Mr.  Boscat  a  for 
eigner. 

"The  persons  inside  the  coach  were  Mr, 
Link ;  a  clergyman,  his  son  ;  a  lawyer,  Mr. 
Boscat ;  a  foreigner,  his  lady,  and  a  little 
child." 

Here  Mr.  Link's  son  becomes  a  clergy 
man,  Mr.  Boscat  a  lawyer,  and  the  lady  and 
child  those  of  a  foreigner,  who  is  nameless, 

"The  persons  inside  the  coach  were  Mr, 
Link  ;  a  clergyman,  his  son  ;  a  lawyer  ;  Mr, 
Boscat ;  a  foreigner,  his  lady  ;  and  a  little 
child." 

Mr.  Boscat  here  ceases  to  be  a  lawyer; 
there  is  no  longer  a  foreigner  who  is  the  hus 
band  of  the  lady  and  the  father  of  the  child ;. 
but  the  lady  is  described  as  being  a  foreigner,, 
and  Mr.  Boscat's  wife ;  and  the  child  is  not 
understood  as  being  akin  to  any  person  m 
the  coach. 

Droll  Mistakes. 

Many  laughable  errors  of  mispia^ 
punctuation,  words  and  clauses  of  sentences, 
might  be  mentioned.  A  tourist  writing 
from  Switzerland  said  :  "The  distance  was 
too  great  for  a  donkey  to  travel,  therefore  I 
did  not  attempt  it."  If  anyone  had  called 
this  traveller  what  he  here  calls  himself,  he 
would  probably  have  considered  himself 
grossly  insulted. 

Another  writer  stated  that  "a  copy  of 
Macaulay's  History  of  England  was  sold 
by  the  auctioneer  bound  in  calf."  It  is  not 
likely  that  the  auctioneer  considered  himself 
complimented  by  the  assertion  that  he  was 
bound  in  this  kind  of  material. 

A  local  newspaper  contained  the  astonish* 


ETIQUETTE  OF  CORRESPONDENCE. 


ing  statement :  "  We  have  just  built  a  school- 
house  for  girls  four  stories  high."  The  girls 
in  this  place  were  remarkably  tall  or  else  the 
writer  intended  to  say,  "  We  have  just  built 
a  new  school-house  four  stories  high  for 
girls."  A  woman  wrote,  "  I  wish  to  sell 
my  piano,  for  I  am  going  to  Europe  in  a 
rosewood  case  with  carved  legs."  It  is  diffi 
cult  to  determine  which  had  the  "carved 
legs" — the  piano,  the  rosewood  case,  or  the 
woman. 

A  clergyman  wrote,  "A  young  woman 
died  yesterday  while  I  was  preaching  in  the 
street  in  a  state  of  beastly  intoxication."  It 
is  supposed  that  he  intended  to  say  that  a 
young  woman  died  yesterday  in  the  street, 
in  a  state  of  beastly  intoxication,  while  he 
was  preaching,  for  it  is  not  to  be  believed 
that  a  clergyman  was  beastly  drunk. 

Another  minister  wrote,  "  I  well  remem 
ber  when  I  was  riding  across  the  prairie 
with  my  beloved  wife  who  has  long  since 
gone  to  heaven  in  a  buggy."  As  there  are 
doubts  about  the  beloved  woman  making 
her  exit  from  this  world  in  a  buggy,  it  is 
presumed  that  the  clergyman  was  riding 
across  the  prairie  in  a  buggy  with  his  beloved 
wife,  and  that  subsequent  to  that  event  she 
took  her  departure  heavenward. 

A  school  report  says,  "There  should  be 
some  improvement  in  the  internal  arrange 
ments  of  the  primary  school-room,  as  many 
of  the  seats  have  long  been  occupied  by  small 
children  that  have  no  backs."  As  "small 
children  that  have  no  backs"  would  prob 
ably  be  too  feeble  to  attend  school,  it  is 
supposed  that  the  seats  were  without  backs, 
not  the  children. 

An  advertisement  reads,  "A  gentleman 
would  let  his  house,  going  abroad,  to  a  small 
family  with  modern  improvements."  It  is 
difficult  to  know  what  modern  improvements 
there  have  been  in  small  families,  or  how  a 


house  would  look  going  abroad,  so  we  con 
clude  that  the  improvement  belongs  to  the 
house,  and  that  it  is  the  gentleman  who  is 
going  abroad. 

These  errors  are  constantly  occurring,  even 
in  letters  of  educated  persons,  and  a  lengthy 
chapter  might  be  written  upon  the  subject. 
There  are  also  errors  of  contradiction  of 
terms,  vulgarly  called  "bulls,"  such  as  the 
statement  of  the  Irishman,  who  said,  "The 
empty  seats  are  all  full,  and  the  next  time  I 
ride  in  that  car,  I'll  walk,  sure." 

A  request  was  handed  into  the  pulpit  as 
follows :  "A  man  going  to  sea,  his  wife  de 
sires  the  prayers  of  the  congregation  for  hi$ 
safety.''  The  pastor,  in  the  dimness  of  old 
age,  startled  the  congregation  by  reading, 
"A  man  going  to  see  his  wife,  desires  the 
prayers  of  the  congregation  for  his  safety."' 

A  lady  sent  a  note  to  a  neighbor  as  follows : 
"  Mrs.  Robinson  would  like  to  know  how  old, 
Mrs.  Parsons  is  to-day ;"  and  received  a  reply 
from  the  younger  Mrs.  Parsons  in  the 
family,  saying,  "she  did  not  think  her  age 
was  any  business  of  the  neighbors."  The 
fact  was,  Mrs.  Robinson  had  put  a  comma 
after  old,  and  the  younger  Mrs.  Parsons 
did  not  realize  that  the  inquiry  was  concern 
ing  the  health  of  her  aged  mother-in-law. 

A  toast  was  given  at  a  public  dinner  as 
follows:  "  Woman,  without  her,  man  is  a 
brute,"  but  the  printer  spoiled  the  sentiment 
by  misplacing  a  comma,  and  it  became 
"woman  without  her  man,  is  a  brute." 
Postscripts. 

The  ladies  have  been  accused,  probably 
with  some  reason,  of  reserving  the  most 
important  part  of  a  letter  for  the  postscript ; 
they  should  endeavor  to  avoid  giving  cause 
for  being  thus  reproached.  Postscripts  are, 
for  the  most  part,  needless,  and  in  bad  taste. 
Pause  a  few  moments  before  you  conclude  a 
letter,  and  reflect  whether  you  have  any 


8o 


KULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


thing  more  to  say.  Above  all  things,  do 
not  defer  civilities,  or  kind  inquiries,  for  any 
friend  or  acquaintance,  to  this  justly-despised 
part  of  a  letter.  To  do  so,  is  a  proof  of 
thoughtlessness  or  disrespect  "  My  kindest 
regards  to  rny  cousin  Frances,"  with  a  P.  S. 
before  it,  looks  like  what  it  really  is — an 
after-thought;  and  is,  therefore,  not  only 
without  value,  but,  to  persons  of  fine  feel 
ings,  offensive. 

The  Proper  Form  of  Address. 

The  style  of  address  should  vary  to  suit 
the  person  addressed.  In  writing  to  strangers, 
you  should  address  them  as  "Sir,"  or 
"Madam,"  ending  the  letter  with,  "Your 
obedient  servant."  To  those  with  whom 
you  are  tolerably  acquainted,  you  should 
say,  "  Dear  Sir,"  or,  "  Dear  Madam,"  ending 
your  letter  with  "Yours  faithfully."  To 
your  intimate  friends,  you  should  say,  "  My 
dear  Sir,"  or,  "  My  dear  Madam,"  ending 
the  letter  with,  "  Yours  truly,"  "  Yours  very 
truly,"  "  Yours  sincerely,"  or,  "  Yours  very 
sincerely." 

It  is  allowable  to  use  die  form,  "  My  dear 
Sir,"  even  to  strangers ;  but  it  is  always  best 
to  be  cautious  in  this  matter. 

In  addressing  a  clergyman,  use  the  form, 
'*  Reverend  and  dear  Sir."  To  a  bishop  say, 
"  Right  Reverend  and  dear  Sir." 

Custom  has  made  it  proper,  in  addressing 
the  President  of  the  United  States,  or  the 
Governor  of  a  State  of  the  Union,  to  use  the 
form,  "  Your  Excellency."  It  is  proper,  in 
addressing  the  President,  to  say,  "  Mr.  Presi 
dent,"  which  is  his  official  title.  The  Vice- 
President  is  addressed  as  "The  Honorable." 

Cabinet  officers  and  heads  of  departments 
are  addressed  as  follows:  "The  Honorable 
,  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,"  etc. 

The  Chief  Justice  of  the  United  States  is 

addressed  as  "  The  Honorable  ,  Chief 

Justice  of  the  United  States." 


Members  of  the  two  Houses  of  Congress, 
members  of  the  Legislatures  of  States,  and 
all  judges  of  courts  of  law  and  justice,  are 
entitled  to  be  addressed  as  "  The  Honorable." 

Officers  of  the  army  and  navy  are  addressed 
by  their  titles,  as  "  General  Nelson  A.  Miles," 
"  Captain ,"  "Admiral ,"  etc. 

The  members  of  the  faculty  of  a  college 
are  addressed  as  "  Professor,"  and  where  they 
possess  an  additional  title,  such  as  "  D.  D.," 
"  L,L.  D.,"  etc.,  it  is  added  after  the  name, 
as,  "  Prof.  Theophilus  Dwight,  LL.  D." 

Ordinary  persons  are  addressed  as  "  Mr.," 
"  Mrs.,"  or  "  Miss."  Gentlemen  are  some 
times  called  ' '  Esqr. ' '  You  may  write  '  *  James 
Jarman,  Esqr.,"  or  "  Mr.  James  Jarman,"  as 
you  think  best,  but  both  titles  must  not  be 
employed  at  once. 

In  addressing  the  minister  or  ambassador 
accredited  from  a  foreign  country  to  the 
United  States,  it  is  customary  to  use  the 
form  "Your  Excellency,"  giving  him  also 
his  full  title,  which  must  be  previously  ascer 
tained. 

In  England,  where  the  constitution  of 
society  requires  exactness  in  the  use  of  titles, 
the  following  are  the  forms  used  : 

A  letter  to  the  Queen  should  begin, 
"  Madam,"  "  Most  Gracious  Sovereign,"  or 
"  May  it  please  your  Majesty."  The  envelope 
should  be  addressed,  "  To  the  Queen's  Most 
Excellent  Majesty." 

A  letter  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  should 
begin,  "  Your  Royal  Highness."  The  envel 
ope  should  be  addressed,  "To  His  Royal 
Highness  the  Prince  of  Wales." 

A  letter  to  a  member  of  the  Royal  family 
should  begin,  "Sir,"  or,  "Madam,"  or, 
"  Your  Royal  Highness."  The  envelope 
should  be  addressed,  "  To  His  Royal  High 
ness  the  Duke  of  Edinburgh,"  "To  Her 
Royal  Highness  the  Princess  Mary  of  Teck," 
etc. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Proper  Forms  for  Letters. 


VERY  person  who  has  much  corres 
pondence  to  attend  to,  will  appre 
ciate  the  convenience  of  having  forms 
of  well-written  letters  at  hand  for  the  vari 
ous  occasions  on  which  such  forms  are 
required.  If  you  are  averse  to  copying 
these,  they  will  nevertheless  be  suggestive, 
and  give  an  idea  as  to  the  subject  matter  of 


epistolary  communications,  and  the  manne* 
of  writing  them. 

These  letters  are  grouped  under  various 
heads  for  the  convenience  of  persons  desiring 
to  use  them. 

Business  letters  may  be  found  in  a  subse 
quent  part  of  this  work,  where  they  properh 
belong. 


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RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


FAMILY   LETTERS. 


A  MOTHER  TO 
HER  DAUGHTER 
IN  A  BOARDING 
SCHOOL 


BOSTON,  February  7,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  CHILD  : 

Although  we  are  separated  in  person,  yet  you  are  never  absent  from  my  thoughts  . 
and  it  is  my  continual  practice  to  recommend  you  to  the  care  of  that  Being,  whose  eye? 
are  on  all  his  creatures,  and  to  whom  the  secrets  of  ail  hearts  are  open  :  but  I  have  beers 
lately  somewhat  alarmed,  because  your  two  last  letters  do  not  run  in  that  strain  of 
unaffected  piety  as  formerly.  What,  my  dear,  is  this  owing  to  ?  Is  your  beneficent 
Creator  a  hardmaster,  or  are  you  resolved  to  embark  in  the  fashionable  follies  of  a  gay 
unthinking  world  ?  Excuse  me,  my  dear,  I  am  a  mother,  and  my  concern  for  your 
happiness  is  inseparably  connected  with  my  own.  Perhaps  I  am  mistaken,  and,  what 
I  have  considered  as  a  fault  may  be  only  the  effusions  of  j'outhful  gaiety.  I  shall  con 
sider  it  in  that  light,  and  be  extremely  glad,  yea,  happy,  to  find  it  so.  Useful  instruc 
tions  are  never  too  often  inculcated,  and  therefore,  give  me  leave  again  to  put  you  in 
mind  of  that  duty,  the  performance  of  which  alone  can  make  you  happy,  both  in  time 
and  in  eternity. 

Religion,  my  dear,  is  a  dedication  of  the  whole  man  to  the  will  of  God,  and  virtue 
is  the  actual  operation  of  that  truth,  which  diffuses  itself  through  every  part  of  om 
conduct :  "  her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  are  peace." 

Whilst  the  gay  unthinking  part  of  youth  are  devoting  the  whole  of  their  time  to 
fashionable  pleasures,  how  happy  shall  I  be  to  hear  that  my  child  was  religious  without 
hypocritical  austerity,  and  even  gay  with  innocence!  Let  me  beg  that  you  spend  at 
least  one  hour  each  day  in  perusing  your  Bible,  and  some  of  our  best  English  writers 
and  don't  imagine  that  religion  is  such  a  gloomy  thing  as  some  enthusiasts  have 
represented  :  no,  it  indulges  you  in  every  rational  amusement,  so  far  as  it  is  consistent 
with  morality; — it  forbids  nothing  but  what  is  hurtful. 

Let  me  beg  you  will  consider  attentively  what  I  have  written,  and  send  me  an 
answer  as  soon  as  you  can. 

I  am  your  affectionate  mother. 


HE  ANSWER 


NORTHAMPTON,  February  10,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  MOTHER  : 

I  am  so  much  affected  with  the  perusal  of  your  really  parental  advice,  that  I  can 
scarcely  hold  the  pen  to  write  an  answer;  but  duty  to  the  best  of  parents  obliges  me  to 
make  you  easy  in  your  mind,  before  I  take  any  rest  to  myself.  That  levity  so  con 
spicuous  in  my  former  letters,  is  too  true  to  be  denied,  nor  do  I  desire  to  draw  a  veil 
over  my  own  folly.  No,  mother,  I  freely  confess  it ;  but  with  the  greatest  sincerity, 
I  must  at  the  same  time  declare,  that  they  were  written  in  a  careless  manner,  without 
considering  the  character  of  the  person  to  whom  they  were  addressed :  I  am  fully 
sensible  of  my  error,  and  on  all  future  occasions,  shall  endeavor  to  avoid  giving  the 
least  offense.  The  advice  you  sent  me  in  your  valuable  letter,  wants  no  encomium  ; 
all  that  I  desire  is,  to  have  it  engraven  on  my  heart.  My  dear  mother,  I  love  religion,, 
I  love  virtue,  and  I  hope  no  consideration  will  ever  lead  me  from  those  duties,  in 
which  alone  I  expect  future  happiness.  Let  me  beg  to  hear  from  you  often,  and  I  hop? 
that  my  whole  future  conduct  will  convince  the  best  of  parents,  that  I  am  what  shr 
wishes  me  to  be. 

I  am,  dear  mother,  your  dutiful  daughter. 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS. 


f  YOUNG  CLERK 
TO  HIS  FATHER 
«'H  THE  COUNTRY 
ELICITING 
j  JCKET-MONEY 


PHILADELPHIA,  March  4,  109-. 
MY  DEAR  FATHER  : 

I  wrote  to  you  by  Mr.  Bale,  but  not  having  received  any  answer  makes  me  very 
uneasy.  Although  I  have  been  as  good  an  economist  as  possible,  yet  I  find  the  pocket- 
money  you  allowed  me  to  take  monthly  from  Mr.  Willis,  is  not  sufficient  to  support  my 
necessary  expenses.  I  assure  you,  that  I  abhor  every  sort  of  extravagance  as  much  as 
you  desire,  and  the  small  matter  which  I  ask  as  an  addition  to  your  former  allowance, 
is  only  to  promote  my  own  interest,  which,  I  am  sure,  you  have  as  much  at  heart  as 
any  parent  possibly  can  have.  My  employer  will  satisfy  you,  that  my  conduct  has  beer 
consistent  with  the  strictest  rules  of  morality.  I  submit  it  to  your  judgment  what  yot 
think  proper  to  order  me.  I  did  not  choose  to  mention  my  want  of  money  to  Mr.  Willis,, 
and  for  that  reason  have  not  taken  anything  more  than  what  you  ordered.  I  hope  you! 
will  not  be  offended  with  what  I  have  written  ;  as  I  shall  always  consider  myself  happy 
in  performing  my  duty,  and  retaining  the  favor  of  my  honored  parents. 

I  am,   your  affectionate  son. 


THE  FATHER'S 
ANSWER 


BIRMINGHAM, 'PA.,  March  15,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  CHILD  : 

My  reason  for  not  writing  to  you  sooner  was  that  I  had  been  on  a  journey  to  yous 
uncle's,  where  I  was  detained  longer  than  I  expected,  and  consequently  did  not  see  youi 
letter  till  last  night.  I  have  considered  your  request,  and  am  convinced  that  it  is  alto 
gether  reasonable.  You  are  greatly  mistaken  if  you  think  that  I  wanted  to  confine  you 
to  the  small  matter  paid  to  Mr.  Willis.  No,  it  was  indeed  inadvertency  ;  but  my  constant 
residence  in  the  country  makes  me  little  acquainted  with  the  customs  of  Philadelphia, 
I  do  not  desire  to  confine  you  to  any  particular  sum  ;  you  are  now  arrived  to  an  age 
when  it  becomes  absolutely  necessary  for  you  to  be  well  acquainted  with  the  value  of 
money  ;  your  profession  likewise  requires  it,  and  it  is  well  known,  that  prudence  and 
sobriety  in  youth,  naturally  lead  to  regularity  of  conduct  in  more  advanced  years. 
Virtue  insures  respect ;  and,  as  I  well  know  that  all  manner  of  precepts  are  useless 
where  the  inclinations  are  vicious,  I  have  left  the  affair  mentioned  in  your  letter  entirely 
to  your  own  discretion  ;  and  as  the  inclosed  order  is  unlimited,  I  doubt  not  but  prudence 

will  direct  you  how  to  proceed. 

I  am,  dear  child,  your  affectionate  father. 


A  SON  TO  HIS 
FATHER,  ASKING 
CONSENT  TO 
MARRY 


CHARLESTON,  S.  C.,  June  i,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  FATHER  : 

You  know  that  it  is  now  above  a  year  since  I  entered  into  business  for  myself,  and 
finding  it  daily  increasing,  I  am  obliged  to  look  out  for  a  partner  ;  I  mean  a  wife.  There 
is  a  very  worthy  family  in  this  neighborhood,  with  whom  I  have  been  some  time 
acquainted.  They  are  in  good  circumstances,  and  have  a  daughter,  an  amiable  young 
woman,  greatly  esteemed  by  all  who  know  her :  I  have  paid  my  addresses  to  her,  and 
likewise  obtained  her  parents'  consent,  on  condition  that  it  was  agreeable  to  you.  I 
would  not  do  anything  of  that  nature  without  your  consent ;  but  I  hope  that,  upon  the 
strictest  inquiry,  you  will  find  her  such  a  person,  that  you  will  not  have  any  objection 
to  a  match  so  advantageous.  I  shall,  on  every  occasion,  endeavor  to  act  with  the  greatest 
prudence,  consistent  with  the  rules  you  were  pleased  to  prescribe  for  my  conduct.  Her 
parents  are  to  pay  me  five  hundred  dollars  on  the  day  of  marriage,  if  the  event  should 
happen  to  take  place  ;  and  as  they  have  no  other  children,  the  whole  of  their  property 
becomes  ours  at  their  death.  In  whatever  light  you  are  pleased  to  consider  this,  I  shah 
abide  by  your  direction,  and  your  answer  in  the  meantime  is  impatiently  expected  by, 

Your  obedient  son. 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


THE  FATHER'S 
ANSWER 


MOBILE,  ALA.,  June  15, 
MY  DEAR  SON  : 

I  received  your  letter,  and  my  reason  for  not  answering  it  sooner  is,  that  it  being- 
em  affair  of  great  importance  I  was  willing  to  proceed  therein  with  the  greatest  caution. 
I  wrote  to  Mr.  Johnson,  my  particular  friend,  desiring  him  to  inquire  concerning  the 
family  you  desired  to  be  allied  with,  and  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  his  account  does  not 
differ  from  your  own.  I  hope  you  do  not  think  that  I  would  desire  to  see  you  one 
moment  unhappy.  Your  reasons  for  entering  into  the  marriage  state  are  every  way 
satisfactory,  and  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  the  person  on  whom  you  have  placed  your 
affections  is  so  deserving.  When  you  have  fixed  the  wedding  day,  I  will  come  to  Charles 
ton  to  be  present  at  the  ceremony.  I  hope  you  will  continue  to  attend  to  your  business 
with  the  same  diligence  you  have  hitherto  done  ;  and  if  you  should  live  to  an  old  age, 
you  then  will  be  able  to  retire  from  trade  with  honor  both  to  yourself  and  family. 

I  am,  your  affectionate  father. 


AN  ELDER 
BROTHER  TO 
HIS  YOUNGER 
BROTHER  IN 
PHILADELPHIA 


MOUNT  HOLLY,  N.  J.,  Sept.  9,  189-. 
DEAR  BROTHER  : 

I  am  very  glad  to  hear  you  are  pleased  with  the  new  situation  in  which  the  care  of 
your  friends  has  put  you,  but  I  would  have  you  pleased,  not  with  the  novelty  of  it,  but 
with  the  real  advantage.  It  is  natural  for  you  to  be  glad  you  are  under  less  restraint 
than  you  were  ;  for  an  employer  has  neither  occasion  nor  inclination  to  watch  a  youth 
so  much  as  his  parents.  But  if  you  are  not  careful,  this,  although  it  now  gives  you  a 
childish  satisfaction,  may,  in  the  end,  betray  you  into  mischief;  nay,  to  your  ruin. 
Though  your  father  is  not  in  sight,  dear  brother,  act  always  as  if  you  were  in  his 
presence  ;  and  be  assured,  that  what  would  not  offend  him,  will  never  displease  anybody. 

You  have  more  sense  (I  have  often  told  you  so),  than  most  persons  at  your  time. 
Now  is  the  opportunity  to  make  a  good  use  of  it ;  and  take  this  for  certain,  every  right 
step  you  enter  upon  now,  will  be  a  comfort  to  you  for  your  life.  I  would  have  your 
reason,  as  well  as  your  fancy,  pleased  with  your  new  situation,  and  then  you  will  act 
as  becomes  you.  Consider,  brother,  that  the  state  of  life  that  charms  you  so  at  this 
time,  will  bring  you  to  independence  and  affluence.  The  employer  with  whom  you  are 
placed,  was  some  years  ago  in  your  situation;  and  what  should  hinder  you  from  being 
hereafter  in  his?  All  that  is  required  is  patience  and  industry;  and  these,  brother,  are 
very  cheap  articles,  with  which  to  purchase  so  comfortable  a  condition. 

Your  employer,  I  am  told,  had  nothing  to  begin  the  world  withal.  In  that  he  was 
worse  off"  than  you;  for  if  you  behave  well,  there  are  those  who  will  set  you  up  in  a 
handsome  manner.  So  you  have  sufficient  inducements  to  be  good,  and  a  reward  always 
follows  it.  Brother,  farewell !  Be  careful  and  honest,  and  God  will  bless-  you.  If  ever 
you  commit  a  fault,  confess  it  at  once  ;  for  the  lie  in  denying  it  is  worse  than  the  thing 
itself.  Go  to  church  constantly;  write  to  us  often.  I  think  I  need  say  no  more  to  so 
good  a  lad  as  you,  to  induce  you  to  continue  so. 

I  am,  your  affectionate  brother. 


WIFE'S  LETTER 
10  AN  ABSENT 
HUSBAND 


CHICAGO,  Feb.  9,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  GILBERT  : 

I  have  been  playing  and  laughing  with  our  little  girl  so  long  that  I  cannot  takt 
up  my  pen  to  address  you  without  emotion.  Pressing  her  to  my  bosom,  she  looked  so 
like  you  (your  best  looks, — I  do  not  admire  your  commercial  face),  every  nerve  seemed 
to  vibrate  to  the  touch,  and  I  began  to  think  there  was  something  in  the  assertion  of 
man  and  wife  being  one  ;  for  you  seemed  to  pervade  my  whole  frame,  quickening  th£ 
beat  of  my  heart,  and  lending  me  the  sympathetic  tears  you  excited. 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS.  85 

Have  I  any  more  to  say  to  you  ?  No,  not  for  the  present — the  rest  is  all  flow* 
away !  and  indulging  tenderness  for  you,  I  cannot  now  complain  of  some  people  here 
who  have  ruffled  my  temper  for  two  or  three  days  past. 

Yours,  most  affectionately, 

MARY. 

BOSTON,  March  n,  1815. 
MY  DEAR  BROTHER  : 

I  have  thought  best,  before  you  go  abroad,  to  suggest  a  few  hints  for  your  benefit 
in  vour  intercourse  with  the  people  among  whom  3'ou  are  going.  As  a  first  and  leading 
principle,  let  every  transaction  be  of  that  pure  and  honest  character  that  you  would  not 
be  ashamed  to  have  appear  before  the  whole  world  as  clearly  as  to  yourself. 

In  addition  to  the  advantages  arising  from  an  honest  course  of  conduct  with  your 
fellow-men,  there  is  the  satisfaction  of  reflecting  within  yourself  that  you  have  endeavored 
to  do  your  duty  >  and  however  greatly  the  best  may  fall  short  of  doing  all  they  ought, 
they  will  be  sure  not  to  do  more  than  their  principles  enjoin.  It  is,  therefore,  of  the 
highest  consequence  that  you  should  not  only  cultivate  correct  principles,  but  that  you 
should  place  your  standard  of  action  so  high  as  to  require  great  vigilance  in  living  up 
to  it. 

In  regard  to  your  business  transactions,  let  everything  be  so  registered  in  your 
books  that  any  person  without  difficulty  can  understand  the  whole  of  your  concerns. 
You  may  be  cut  off  in  the  midst  of  your  pursuits,  and  it  is  of  no  small  consequence 
that  your  temporal  affairs  should  always  be  so  arranged  that  you  may  be  in  readiness. 
If  it  is  important  that  you  should  be  well  prepared  in  this  point  of  view,  how  much 
more  important  is  it  that  you  should  be  prepared  in  that  which  relates  to  eternity ! 
You  are  young,  and  the  course  of  life  seems  open,  and  pleasant  prospects  greet  your 
ardent  hopes  ;  but  you  must  remember  that  the  race  is  not  always  to  the  swift,  and  that 
however  flattering  may  be  your  prospects,  and  however  zealously  you  may  seek  pleasure, 
you  can  never  find  it  except  by  cherishing  pure  principles  and  practicing  right  conduct. 
My  heart  is  full  on  this  subject,  my  dear  brother,  and  it  is  the  only  one  on  which  I  feel 
the  least  anxiety. 

While  here  your  conduct  has  been  such  as  to  meet  my  entire  approbation ;  but 
the  scenes  of  another  land  may  be  more  than  your  principles  will  stand  against.  I 
say,  may  be,  because  young  men  of  as  fair  promise  as  yourself  have  been  lost  by  giving 
a  small  latitude  (innocent  in  the  first  instance)  to  their  propensities.  But  I  pray  the 
Father  of  all  mercies  to  have  you  in  his  keeping,  and  preserve  you  amid  temptations. 

I  can  only  add  my  wish  to  have  you  write  me  frequently  and  particularly,  and 
that  you  will  embrace  every  opportunity  of  gaining  information. 

Your  affectionate  brother, 

AMOS  LAWRENCE. 
To  ABBOTT  LAWRENCE. 

August  16,  1835. 
MY  DEAR  AND  HONORED  MOTHER  : 

My  mind  turns  back  to  you  almost  as  frequently  as  its  powers  are  brought  into 

iETTFR  OF  AMOS  *  .  ,  .  ,          . 

>-  AW  EN  E  TO  separate  action,  and  always  with  an  interest  that  animates  and  quickens  my  pulse  ;  for, 
H.s  MOTHER  under  God,  it  is  by  your  influence  and  teachings  that  I  am  prepared  to  enjoy  those 
blessings  which  He  has  so  richly  scattered  in  my  path  in  all  my  onward  progress  in 
life.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  than  that  your  image  should  be  with  me,  unless  I  should 
prove  wholly  unworthy  of  you  ?  Your  journey  is  so  much  of  it  performed  that  those 
subjects  which  interested  you  greatly  in  its  early  stages  have  lost  their  charms  ;  and 
well  it  is  that  they  have  ;  for  they  now  would  prove  clogs  in  the  way,  and  it  is  to  youi 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 

children,  to  your  Saviour,  and  your  God  that  your  mind  and  heart  now  turn  as  the 
natural  sources  of  pleasure.  Each  of  these,  I  trust,  In  their  proper  place  and  degree 
supply  all  your  wants.  The  cheering1  promise  that  has  encouraged  you  when  your 
powers  were  the  highest  will  not  fail  you  when  the  weight  of  years  and  infirmities 
have  made  it  necessary  to  your  comfort  to  get  over  the  few  remaining  spans  of  the 
journey.  To  God  I  commend  you  ;  and  pray  Him  to  make  your  path  light,  and  your 
way  confiding  and  joyful,  until  you  shall  reach  that  home  prepared  for  the  faithful. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

A.  LAWRENCE. 


JOHN  ADAMS 
TO  HIS  WIFE 


PHILADELPHIA,  Feb.  n,  1776. 
MY  DEAR  WIFE;  : 

Here  I  am  again  ;  arrived  last  Thursday  in  good  health,  although  I  had  a  cold 
journey.  The  weather  a  great  part  of  ih.2  way  was  very  severe,  which  prevented  our 
making  very  quick  progress.  My  companion  was  agreeable,  and  made  the  journey  much 
less  tedious  than  it  would  have  been.  I  can  form  no  judgment  of  the  state  of  public 
opinion  and  principles  here  as  yet,  nor  any  conjecttires  of  what  an  hour  may  bring 
forth.  Have  been  to  meeting,  and  heard  Mr.  Duffield  from  Jere.  2  :  17  :  "Hast  thou 
not  procured  this  unto  thyself,  in  that  thou  hast  forsaken  the  Lord  thy  God  when  he 
led  thee  by  the  way  ?  "  He  prayed  very  earnestly  for  Boston  and  New  York,  supposing 
the  latter  to  be  in  danger  of  destruction  ;  I,  however,  am  not  convinced  that  Vandeput  will 
fire  upon  that  town.  It  has  too  much  Tory  property  to  be  destroyed  by  Tories.  I  hope 
it  will  be  fortified  and  saved.  If  not,  the  question  may  be  asked,  "  Hast  thou  not  pro 
cured  this  ?  ' '  etc.  To-morrow  Dr.  Smith  is  to  deliver  an  oration  in  honor  of  the  brave 
Montgomery.  I  will  send  it  as  soon  as  it  is  out  to  you. 

There  is  a  deep  anxiety,  a  kind  of  thoughtful  melancholy,  and  in  some  a  lowness 
of  spirits  approaching  to  despondency,  prevailing  through  the  Southern  colonies  at 
present,  very  similar  to  what  I  have  often  observed  in  Boston,  particularly  on  the  first 
news  of  the  Port  Bill,  and  last  j^ear  about  this  time,  or  a  little  later,  when  the  bad 
news  arrived  which  dashed  their  fond  hopes  with  which  they  had  deluded  themselves 
through  the  winter.  In  this  or  a  similar  condition  we  shall  remain  I  think  until  late 
in  the  spring,  when  some  critical  event  will  take  place,  perhaps  sooner. 

But  the  Arbiter  of  events,  the  Sovereign  of  the  world,  only  knows  which  way  the 
torrent  will  be  turned.  Judging  by  experience,  by  probabilities,  and  by  all  appearances, 
I  conclude  it  will  roll  on  to  dominion  and  glory — though  the  circumstances  and  conse 
quences  may  be  bloody.  In  such  great  changes  and  commotions  individuals  are  but 
atoms.  It  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  consider  what  the  consequences  will  be  to  us. 
What  will  be  the  effects  upon  present  and  future  millions,  and  millions  of  millions,  is 
a  question  very  interesting  to  benevolence,  natural  and  Christian.  God  grant  they  May, 
and  I  firmly  believe  they  will,  be  happy. 


4BIGAII  ADAMS 
TO  JOHN  ADAMS 


BRAINTREE,  Saturday  Evening,  2d  March,  1776. 
MY  DEAR, 

I  was  greatly  rejoiced  at  the  return  of  your  servant  to  find  you  had  safely  arrived; 
2nd  that  you  were  well.  I  had  never  heard  a  word  from  you  after  you  had  left  New 
York,  and  a  most  ridiculous  story  had  been  industriously  propagated  in  this  and  neigh 
boring  towns  to  injure  the  cause  and  blast  your  reputation,  namely,  that  you  and  your 
President  (Hancock)  had  gone  aboard  a  man-of-war  and  sailed  for  England.  I  should 
not  mention  so  idle  a  report,  but  that  it  had  given  uneasiness  to  some  of  your  friends  ; 
not  that  they  in  the  least  credited  the  report,  but  because  the  gaping  vulgar  swallowed 
the  story. 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS.  87 

I  assure  you  that  such  high  disputes  took  place  in  the  public-house  of  this  parish  than 
some  men  were  collared  and  dragged  out  of  the  shop  with  great  threats  for  reporting 
such  scandalous  lies,  and  an  uncle  of  ours  offered  his  life  as  a  forfeit  for  you  if  the 
report  proved  true.  However,  it  has  been  a  nine  days'  marvel,  and  will  now  cease.  I 
heartily  wish  every  Tory  was  extirpated  from  America.  They  are  continually  by  secret 
means  undermining  and  injuring  our  cause. 

I  have  been  kept  in  a  continual  state  of  anxiety  and  expectation  ever  since  you  left 
me.  It  has  been  said  "  to-morrow  "  and  "to-morrow  "  for  this  month,  but  when  to 
morrow  will  be  I  know  not.  But  hark  !  The  house  this  instant  shakes  with  the  roai 
of  cannon.  I  have  been  to  the  door,  and  find  that  it  is  a  cannonading  from  our  army. 
Orders,  I  find,  are  come  for  all  the  remaining  imlitia  to  repair  to  the  lines  Monday  night 
by  twelve  o'clock.  No  sleep  for  me  to-night ;  Hit  if  I  cannot,  who  have  no  guilt  upon 
my  soul  in  regard  to  this  cause,  how  shall  the  miserable  wretches  who  have  been  the 
procurers  of  this  dreadful  scene,  and  those  whc  are  to  be  the  actors,  lie  down  with  the 
load  of  guilt  upon  their  souls  ?  Adieu. 

Yours, 

Astoi  House,  New  York,  Dec.  7,  1837. 
MY  DEAR  JUUA, 

LETTER  OF  *  don't  remember  that  I  ever  wrote  you  a  letter.     I  feel  confident,  however,  that  your 

CHARLES  SUMNER  correspondence  is  not  very  extensive  ;  and  therefore  I  flatter  myself  that  what  I  write 
ON  LEAVING  FOR     you  will  be  read  with  attention,  and  I  trust,  also,  deposited  in  your  heart.     Before 

EUROPE,  TO  HIS  «*'•«.  i-*  r  i.  •   t.      L    11    1. 

SISTER.  TEN          trusting  myself  to  the  sea,  let  me  say  a  few  words  to  you  which  shall  be  my  good-by. 

VEARS  OLD  i  have  often  spoken  to  you  of  certain  habits  of  personal  care,  which  I  will  not  here  more 

particularly  refer  to  than  by  asking  you  to  remember  all  I  have  told  you. 

I  am  very  glad,  my  dear,  to  remember  your  cheerful  countenance.  I  shall  keep  it 
In  my  mind  as  I  travel  over  sea  and  land,  and  hope  that  when  I  return  I  may  still  find 
Its  pleasant  smile  ready  to  greet  me.  Try  never  to  cry.  But  above  all  things  never  be 
obstinate  or  passionate.  If  you  find  your  temper  mastering  vou,  always  stop  till  you 
count  sixty  before  you  say  or  do  anything.  Let  it  be  said  of  you  that  you  are  always 
amiable.  Love  your  father  and  mother,  and  brothers  and  sisten",  and  all  your  friends  ; 
cultivate  an  affectionate  disposition. 

If  you  find  that  you  can  do  anything  which  will  add  to  the  pleasure  of  your  parents, 
or  anybody  else,  be  sure  to  do  it.  Consider  every  opportunity  of  adding  to  the  pleasure 
of  others  as  of  the  highest  importance,  and  do  not  be  unwilling  to  sacrifice  some  enjoy 
ment  of  your  own,  even  some  dear  plaything,  if  by  doing  so  you  CAn  promote  the 
happiness  of  others.  If  you  follow  this  advice  you  will  never  be  selfish  or  ungenerous, 
and  everybody  will  love  you. 

Study  all  the  lessons  you  have  at  school,  and  when  at  home,  in  the  t-'rae  when  you 
are  tired  of  play,  read  some  good  books  which  will  help  to  improve  your  m>nd.  .  .  . 
If  you  will  let  Horace  read  this  letter  it  will  do  the  same,  perhaps,  as  one  addressed  to 
him.  Give  my  love  to  mother,  and  Mary,  and  the  rest. 

Your  affectionate  brother, 

CHARLES. 

April  i Q,  1757. 
DEAR  SISTER  : 
A  LETTER  OF  I  wrote  a  few  lines  to  you  yesterday,  but  omitted  to  answer  yours  relating  to  Sistet 

BENJAMIN 

FRANKLIN  TO  His   Dowse.     As  having  their  own  way  is  one  of  the  greatest  comforts  of  life  to  old  people, 

SISTER  I  think  their  friends  should  endeavor  to  accommodate  them  in  that,  as  well  as  anything 

else.     When  they  have  lived  long  in  a  house  it  becomes  natural  to  them  ;  they  are  almost 

as  closely  connected  with  it  as  the  tortoise  with  his  shell ;  they  die  if  you  tear  then; 


LETTER  OF 
JAMES  A. 
GARFIELD  ON 
THE  DEATH  OF 
HIS  CHILD 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 

out ;  old  folks  and  old  trees,  if  you  remove  them,  it  is  ten  to  one  that  3'ou  kill  them 
So  let  our  good  old  sister  be  no  more  importuned  on  that  head. 

We  are  growing  old  fast  ourselves,  and  shall  expect  the  same  kind  of  indulgences  , 
if  we  give  them,  we  shall  have  a  right  to  receive  them  in  our  turn.  And  as  to  her  few 
fine  things,  I  think  she  is  right  about  selling  them,  and  for  the  reason  that  she  gives, 
that  they  will  fetch  but  little  ;  when  that  little  is  spent,  they  would  be  of  no  further  use 
to  her ;  but  perhaps  the  expectation  of  possessing  them  at  her  death  may  make  that 
person  tender  and  careful,  and  helpful  to  her  to  the  amount  of  ten  times  their  value 
If  so,  they  are  put  to  the  best  use  they  possibly  can  be. 

I  hope  you  will  visit  sister  as  often  as  your  affairs  will  permit,  and  afford  her  what 
assistance  and  comfort  you  can  in  her  present  situation.  Old  age,  infirmities,  and  poverty 
joined,  are  afflictions  enough.  The  neglect  and  slights  of  near  relatives  and  friends  should 
never  be  added.  People  in  her  circumstances  are  apt  to  suspect  this  sometimes  without 
cause.  Appearances,  therefore,  should  be  attended  to,  in  our  conduct  toward  them,  as 
well  as  relatives.  I  write  by  this  post  to  Cousin  Williams  to  continue  his  care,  which  I 
doubt  not  he  will  do. 

We  expect  to  sail  in  about  a  week,  so  I  shall  hardly  have  time  to  hear  from  you  on 
this  side  of  the  water.  Your  affectionate  brother, 

BENJAMIN. 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  Nov.  9,  1876. 
MY  DEAR  CORYDON  : 

I  arrived  in  this  city  yesterday  afternoon,  and  found  that  your  kind  letter  of  the 
ad  inst.  was  awaiting  me.  Our  precious  little  Eddie  died  on  the  25th  of  October,  and 
on  the  same  evening  'Crete  and  I  left  with  the  body,  and  on  the  ayth  we  buried  him 
beside  our  little  girl,  who  died  thirteen  years  ago.  Both  are  lying  in  the  graveyard  at 
Hiram,  and  we  have  come  back  to  those  which  are  still  left  us,  but  with  a  desolation  in 
our  hearts  known  only  to  those  who  have  lost  a  precious  child.  It  seems  to  me  that  we 
are  many  years  older  than  we  were  when  our  dear  little  boy  died.  His  little  baby  ways 
so  filled  the  house  with  joy  that  the  silence  he  has  left  is  heart-breaking.  It  needs  all 
my  philosophy  and  courage  to  bear  it. 

It  was  hard  to  go  on  with  the  work  of  the  great  campaign  with  so  great  a  grief  in 
my  heart,  but  I  knew  it  was  my  duty,  and  I  did  it  as  well  as  I  could. 

'Crete  joins  me  in  my  kindest  regards  to  you  and  May.  I  hope  the  time  may  come 
when  we  can  sit  down  and  renew  the  memories  of  other  days  and  enjoy  a  long  visit.  1 
am  here  now  for  the  winter,  and  shall  soon  be  at  work  in  the  Supreme  Court,  where  I 
am  having  a  number  of  important  cases.  With  as  much  love  as  ever,  I  am  your  friend 
and  brother,  JAMES  A.  GARFIELD. 


LETTER  OF 
JAMES  A, 
GARFIELD, 
DESCRIBING 
DORCHESTER 


DORCHESTER  HEIGHTS,  Mass.,  Jan.  5,  1856. 
MY  DEAR  CORYDON  AND  MARY  : 

I  want  to  pencil  a  few  lines  to  you  from  this  enchanting  spot  on  the  seashore 
six  miles  from  Boston,  and  when  I  return  perhaps  I  will  ink  it  in  a  letter  to  you.  1 
am  spending  the  night  here  with  a  classmate  of  mine,  one  of  the  dearest  friends  1 
have  in  college.  I  am  now  in  an  old  house,  every  timber  of  oak,  built  more  than  one 
hundred  years  ago. 

To  one  who  has  seen  cities  rise  from  the  wild  forest  in  the  space  of  a  dozen  years, 
and  has  hardly  ever  seen  a  building  older  than  himself,  you  may  be  assured  that  many 
reflections  are  awakened  by  the  look  of  antiquity  that  everything  has  around  me.  The 
quaint  old  beams  and  panelled  walls,  the  heavy  double  windows  that  look  out  ocea^a- 
ward,  in  short,  the  whole  air  of  the  building  speaks  of  the  days  of  the  olden  time 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS. 


89 


To  think  that  these  walls  have  echoed  to  the  shouts  of  loyalty  to  George  the  king, 
have  heard  all  the  voices  of  the  spirit  stirring  Revolution,  the  patriotic  resolve,  the 
tramp  of  the  soldier's  foot,  the  voice  of  the  beloved  Washington  (for  within  a  few 
rods  of  here  he  made  his  first  Revolutionary  encampment),  the  cannon  of  Bunker  Hill, 
the  lamentations  of  defeat  and  shouts  of  victory — all  these  cannot  but  awaken  peculiar 
reflections.  To  how  many  that  are  now  sleepers  in  the  quiet  chuchyard,  or  wanderers 
in  the  wide,  cold  world,  has  this  been  the  dear  ancestral  hall  where  all  the  joys  oi 
childhood  were  clustered.  Within  this  oaken -ceiled  chamber  how  many  bright  hope? 
have  been  cherished  and  high  resolves  formed;  how  many  hours  of  serene  joy,  and 
how  many  heart-throbs  of  bitter  anguish !  If  these  walls  had  a  voice  J  would  ask 
them  to  tell  me  the  mingled  scenes  of  joy  and  sorrow  they  have  witnessed. 

.But  even  their  silence  has  a  voice,  and  I  love  to  listen.  But  without  there  is  no 
silence,  for  the  tempest  is  howling  and  the  snows  are  drifting.  The  voice  of  the^reak 
waves,  as  they  come  rolling  up  against  the  wintry  shore,  speaks  of  Him  "whos«  v«v?r 
is  as  the  sound  of  many  waters."  Only  a  few  miles  from  here  is  the  spot  where— > 

"  The  breaking  waves  dashed  high 

On  a  stern  and  rock-bound  coast, 
And  the  woods  against  a  stormy  sky 

Their  giant  branches  tossed ; 
And  the  heavy  night  hung  dark 

The  hills  and  water  o'er, 
When  a  band  of  Pilgrims  moored  their  bark 

On  the  wild  New  England  shore." 

But  the  coal  has  sunk  to  the  lowest  bar  in  the  grate  beside  me ;  'tis  far  past  tbe 
noon  of  night,  and  I  must  close. 

As  ever,  your  own  affectionate 

JAMES. 


FROM  A  LITTLE 
'•IRL.  WANTING 
fO  COVE  HOME 


AMENIA  SEMINARY. 
DEAR  MAMMA  : 

O  !  I  am  so  tired  of  this  place  !  I  cannot  learn  so  many  things  at  once  ;  and  I  cannol 
bear  going  to  bed  without  kissing  you.  You  know,  mamma,  I  have  never  been  away 
from  you  before,  and  I  feel  as  if  I  should  die  of  grief  if  you  do  not  let  me  come  home 
again.  Do,  mamma,  do,  and  I  will  love  you  for  ever. 

Your  miserable  child, 

BLANCHE. 


JERSEY  CITY,  Saturday,  i6th. 
MY  DEAR  CHILD  : 

THE  ANSWER  I  am  sorry  that  you  should  pain  me  by  so  unreasonable  a  request.     You  know  we'l 

that  nothing  pleases  me  more  than  to  have  all  of  you  around  me  ;  but  you  must  recollect 
that  all  your  brothers  and  sisters  have  been  to  school  before  you,  and  they  never  com 
plained  at  all.  I  know  that  you,  being  the  youngest,  have  been  petted  a  great  deal  by 
all  of  us  ;  but,  for  that  very  reason  you  ought  to  try  and  give  us  pleasure,  by  growing 
up  a  good  and  clever  girl. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  child,  you  will  find  school  become  more  pleasant  every  day,  as 
you  get  better  acquainted  with  your  schoolfellows,  and  as  your  improvement  gains  the 
approval  of  your  mistress.  Youth,  my  dear  little  girl,  is  the  proper  time  for  exertion  ; 
for  if  we  once  lose  the  precious  hours  of  early  life,  we  have  naught  to  look  back  to  but 
disappointment  and  regret. 

I  have  written  to  Mrs. to  ask  her  to  give  you  not  quite  so  many  lessons  at  first, 

and  have  no  doubt  she  will  do  all  to  assist  you.     But  you  must  try  to  be  happy,  and 


ANNOUNCING 
THE  VACATION 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 

look  forward  to  the  Christmas  vacation  as  the  reward  of  the  little  self-privation  you  are 
at  present  undergoing.  With  the  united  kind  loves  of  your  father,  brothers  and  sistersv 
I  am,  my  dear  child, 

vour  affectionate  mother. 

WOODLAWN  HOUSE,  June  i,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  PARENTS  : 

It  is  with  mingled  feelings  of  regret  and  pleasure,  that  I  announce  that  the  termi< 
nation  of  this  half  year's  work  is  fixed  for  the  — th  instant.  I  sincerely  hope  that  I 
shall  not  only  find  you  both  in  excellent  health,  but  that  you  will  be  satisfied  with  my 
improvement  since  I  last  left  home.  No  pains  have  been  spared  by  any  of  my  teachers 
to  render  me  worthy  of  your  good  opinion  ;  and  I  must  ever  feel  grateful  both  to  them, 
and  to  yourselves,  for  the  pains  bestowed  upon  my  education. 

Mrs.  (or  Miss) desires  me  to  present  her  best  compliments  ;  and,  with  my  best 

love  to  my  sisters  and  brothers,  believe  me  to  remain,  my  dear  parents, 

Your  ever  dutiful  and  affectionate  daughter. 


ACKNOWLEDGING 
A  PRESENT 


RICHMOND,  April  4,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  FATHER  : 

How  kind  of  you  to  think  of  me  immediately  after  your  return  from  Paris  !  The 
trinkets  you  sent  are  so  very  beautiful,  that  I  should  have  been  afraid  of  exciting 
the  envy  of  my  school-fellows,  had  it  not  been  for  the  liberal  supply  of  French  con 
fectionery  (of  which,  I  assure  you,  very  little  now  remains)  by  which  they  were  accom 
panied.  I  assure  you,  I  spare  no  trouble  to  win  the  good  opinion  of  my  school-mistress 
and  teachers  ;  and  if  I  may  judge  from  their  kindness  towards  me,  I  am  not  altogether 
unsuccessful.  • 

I  am  enjoying  excellent  health  and  spirits  ;  but  I  hope  now  you  are  in  New  York, 
you  will  sometimes  run  down  and  see  your  daughter  ;  for,  believe  me,  nothing  but  an 
occasional  thought  of  poor,  widowed  papa,  ever  intrudes  upon  my  cheerfulness.  Mrs. 

« has   frequently  expressed  a  wish  to  see  you,  so  that  I  shall  look  forward  with 

anxiety  for  that  happy  occasion. 

Again  thanking  you  for  your  thoughtful  and  liberal  kindness, 

Believe  me  to  remain,  ray  dear  father, 

Your  ever  affectionate  and  grateful  daughter. 


TO  A  DAUGHTER 
.ON  HER 
BIRTHDAY 


NEW  ORLEANS,  February  12,  189-. 
MY  DEAREST  CHILD  : 

Your  father,  brothers  and  sisters,  all  unite  with  me  in  sending  j^ou  a  thousand 
good  wishes  on  this  your  — th  anniversary.  We  could  all  have  wished  that  circum 
stances  would  have  allowed  of  your  spending  it  with  us  ;  but  feeling,  in  these  matters, 
must  oftentimes  be  sacrificed  to  utility,  and  our  selfish  delights  must  no*  be  suffered 
to  interfere  with  the  prospects  of  those  dear  to  us.  The  package  which  accompanies 
this  letter,  contains  not  only  some  trifling  tokens  of  affection  from  all  of  us,  but  the 

materials  for  a  little  entertainment  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  Mrs. will  allow  you  to 

give  to  your  schoolfellows,  as  I  have  written  to  beg  a  half-holiday  on  the  occasion. 

God  bless  you,  my  dear  child  !  and  that  every  succeeding  year  may  see  you  increase 
in  all  that  is  desirable  in  body  and  mind,  is  the  earnest  prayer  of  your  ever  anxious 
parents.  With  best  compliments  to  your  mistress  and  teachers, 

Believe  me, 

Your  ever  affectionate  mother. 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS. 


FROM  A  BROTHER 
TJ  HIS  MARRIED 
SISTER  IN  A 
FOREIGN 
COUNTRY 


NEW  YORK,  June  3,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  SISTER  : 

We  have  been  long  impatiently  expecting  a  letter  from  you  The  last  we  received 
was  far  too  brief,  as  we  were  anxious  to  know  more  about  the  particulars  of  your  voyage, 
and  how  you  managed  on  your  arrival  at  the  place  of  destination. 

The  distance  which  now  separates  us  invests  all  that  concerns  you  with  a  peculiar 
interest,  and  our  anxiety  on  the  subject  of  your  welfare  can  only  be  allayed  by  as  full 
and  particular  a  recital  as  you  can  possibly  write.  Believe  me,  it  is  no  mere  curiosity 
that  elicits  this  wish  on  our  part  to  be  better  informed  of  all  that  befalls  you  ;  as,  since 
we  have  but  too  much  reason  to  conclude  that  our  meetings  together  are  perhaps  now 
forever  closed,  we  are  the  more  anxious  to  hear  from  you  as  often  as  possible,  and  I  ani 
sure  you  will  not  withhold  from  us  this  pleasure. 

As  for  ourselves  at  home,  little  change  has  taken  place  since  you  left  America ; 
the  health  of  our  dear  parents  remains  much  the  same  ;  as  does  also  that  of  most  of  our 
relatives  and  connections.  They  all  unite  with  me  in  wishing  you  and  your  husband 
all  possible  health  and  happiness,  and  I  remain,  my  dear  sister, 

Your  affectionate  brother, 
To  Mrs. . 


FROM  A  BROTHER 
IN  THE  COUNTRY 
10  HIS  SISTER 
5N  NEW  YORK 


GALVESTON,  Texas,  September  4,  189-, 
MY  DEAR  SISTER  : 

Not  having  heard  from  you  for  the  last  three  months,  I  feel  anxious  to  learn  how 
you  are  at  present  situated,  and  what  may  be  your  future  prospects.     You  have  now 

been  nearly  three  years  with  Mrs. ,  and  the  period  for  which  you  were  articled 

to  that  lady  draws  to  a  close.  I  hope  you  have  now  formed  some  plan  for  the  future ; 
and  whatever  that  plan  may  be,  I  shall,  if  you  think  proper  to  confide  in  me,  be  most 
willing  and  ready  to  give  you  my  best  advice  and  assistance.  If  you  purpose  having  a 
short  rest  from  business,  and  will  come  to  Galveston  for  a  few  weeks,  your  sister-in-law, 
who  unites  with  me  in  the  kindest  regards  to  you,  will  do  her  best  to  make  that  period 
pass  agreeably.  Pray  write  quickly  to 

Your  affectionate  brother. 


O2TTERS  OF  INVITATION. 


INVITATION  TO 
A  BACHELOR 
PARTY 


NEWARK,  September  u,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  Jot, . 

Myself,  and  half  a  dozen  other  good  fellows,  are  going  to  devote  a  few  hours  on 
Tuesday  evening  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  few  glasses  of  wine,  chit-chat,  and  so  on.  3 
hope  you  will  make  one,  as  we  have  not  enjoyed  the  "  feast  of  reason  and  flow  of  soul" 
in  each  other's  company  for  some  time  past.  Believe  me,  dear  Joe, 

Yours  ever, 

HARRY. 


AN  INVITATION 
TO  A  PRIVATE 

DINNER 


MADISON  SQUARE,  November  12,  189-. 
DEAR  MR.  ROBINSON  : 

My  old  friend  Richard  Roy  is  coming  to  take  a  chop  with  me  on  Saturday  the  15th, 
and  I  hope  you  will  come  and  join  us  at  six  o'clock.   I  know  you  are  not  partial  to 
parties,  so  trust  you  will  think  us  two  sufficient  company. 

Yours  ever  truly, 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


AN  INVITATION  TO 
A  WATER  PARTY 


DEAR 


July  12,  189-* 


Jack 


— ,  myself,  and  four  others  are  going  down  to  Richmond  in  a  six-oared 
boat  next  Wednesday.  Now,  you  are  a  jolly  fellow  and  a  good  steersman,  so  I  hope 
you  will  give  us  your  company  and  your  services  ;  indeed,  we  will  take  no  excuse.  We 
shall  set  out  from  my  lodging  at  9  o'clock,  without  fail. 

Yours  truly,  in  haste, 


UN  INVITATION  TO 
ft  PICNIC  PARTY 


ANOTHER, TO  A 
BATHER  OF  A 
FAMILY 


ALBANY,  July  3,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  SIR  : 

We  are  endeavoring  to  get  up  a  small  excursion  to  visit  the  Catskills  on  the  loth 

of  this  month.     Will  you  do  us  the  favor  of  making  one  of  our  number?     Mrs. 

and  my  family  desire  their  compliments,  and  request  me  to  mention  that  they  have  taken 
upon  themselves  the  task  of  providing  the  "creature  comforts"  for  that  occasion,  and 
trust  that  their  exertions  will  meet  with  unanimous  approval.  Should  you  have  no 
previous  engagement  for  that  day,  and  feel  disposed  to  join  our  party,  a  carriage  will  be 
at  your  door  by  10  o'clock  on  Thursday  morning  ;  and  believe  me  to  be, 

My  dear  sir,  yours  most  sincerely, 
To ,  Esq. 

P.S. — The  favor  of  an  early  ansT/er  wil1  ^blige. 

NEW  YORK,  July  20,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  SIR  : 

May  I  hope  that  you  will  allow  your  boys  and  girls  to  join  mine  in  an  excursion  tc 
Glen  Cove  on  the  27th  ?  We  expect  to  niak~  rather  a  large  party,  and  have,  therefore, 
made  arrangements  to  dine  at  the  Cove  House. 

In  haste,  believe  me.  my  dear  sir,  yours  ever  sincerely. 
Mr. . 


NOTES  OF  INVITATION. 


AN  INVITATION 


ANSWER 

TO  THE  ABOVE, 

A.CEPTING 


Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thompson  request  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  James's  company, 
on  Wednesday  evening  next,  at  eight  o'clock,  to  join  a  social  party.  An  immediate 
answer  will  much  oblige. 

Fifth  Avenue,  January  pth. 

Mr.   and  Mrs.  James  will  be  most  happy  to  avail  themselves  of  Mr.  a»d  Mrs. 
Thompson's  kind  invitation  to  join  their  social  party  as  requested. 
Houston  Street,  January  loth. 


ANSWER, 
DECLINING 


TO  AM  INTIMATE 
FRIEND 


Mr.  and  Mrs.  James  greatly  regret  their  inability  to  accept  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thompson's 
kind  invitation  to  join  their  social  party.  Nothing  would  have  afforded  them  more 
pleasure  than  to  be  present,  but  family  affliction  prevents  them. 

West  Street,  January  loth. 

MY  DEAR  BERTHA, — A  few  friends  will  be  here  on  Wednesday  evening  next,  to  takfe 
a  social  cup  of  tea,  and  chat  about  mankind  in  particular.  Give  us  the  pleasure  of  you* 
company.  s<  BUCKMAN. 

Pi  i  nee  Street,  Saturday  morning. 


REPLY 


MY  DEAR  SOPHIE, — It  affords  me  great  pleasure  to  inform  you  that  I  shall  join  you/i 
party,  on  Wednesday  evening  next.  BERTHA  MERWIN. 

Spring  Street,  Saturday  afternoon. 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS. 


93 


r'ROM  A 

GENTLEMAN  TO 
HIS  FRIEND 
CONTAINING  AN 
INVITATION 


TKE  ANSWER 

CEPTINGTHE 
NVITATION 


ANOTHER 
ANSWER 
CONTAINING  AM 
EXCUSE 


ORANGE,  N.  J.,  July  2,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  FRIEND  : 

Being  now  settled  at  my  country  residence  for  the  summer,  I  lose  no  time  in  soliciting 
the  pleasure  of  your  company,  together  with  that  of  your  family,  and  trust  that  you  will 
make  it  convenient  to  pass  a  month  or  six  weeks  with  us  in  our  rural  retirement.  I 
believe  that  you  are  too  well  aware  of  my  friendship,  to  doubt  every  thing  will  be  done 
to  render  your  stay  with  us  agreeable. 

My  wife  desires  me  to  inform  you,  that  unless  you  comply  with  this,  our  mutual 
request,  your  name  will  be  erased  from  her  good  books. 

Very  faithfully  yours. 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  July  4,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  SIR  : 

Your  very  friendly  and  polite  invitation  demands  my  immediate  attention.  You 
may  be  assured,  that  I  never  willingly  resign  the  pleasure  of  enjoying  your  society ; 
and,  on  the  present  occasion,  I  am  extremely  happy  to  sa}',  that  I  have  nothing  to 
prevent  my  acceptance  of  your  very  kind  offer.  You  may,  therefore,  expect  me  and  my 
family  in  the  course  of  ten  days.  I  hope  we  shall  be  able  to  prevail  on  you  and  your 
good  lady  to  return  with  us. 

Requesting  you  to  be  assured,  that  I  am  truly  sensible  of  your  repeated  acts  of 
friendly  attention  towards  me,  I  am,  dear  sir,  with  best  wishes  for  your  health  and 
happiness  (in  which  my  wife  unites),  very  affectionately,  Yours  truly. 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  July  5,  189-. 
MY  WORTHY  FRIEND  : 

I  am  truly  obliged  to  you  foi  your  very  friendly  invitation,  and  sincerely  lament 
that  the  pressure  of  my  business  prevents  me  at  present  from  complying  with  it ;  though 
I  hope  this  will  not  induce  your  amiable  lady  to  erase  my  name  from  her  good  books, 
especially  as  it  is  no  fault  of  mine,  my  inclination  being  decidedly  in  favor  of  the  visit. 

My  family  unite  with  me  in  the  kindest  remembrances  to  you  all ;  and  I  subscribe 
myself,  Your  obliged  friend, 


FROM  A  LADY  TO 
H£R  FEMALE 


LETTERS  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 

No.  1519  GREENE  STREET,  May  2,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  GRACE  : 

As  I  have  never  withheld  even  my  most  secret  thoughts  from  you,  I  cannot  avoid 
informing  you,  that  since  my  last  letter,  I  have  received  an  offer  of  marriage  from 
Mr.  Dawson.  This,  you  will  perhaps  say,  has  been  long  expected.  True,  my  dear  girl, 
but  it  is  not,  therefore,  the  less  important ;  especially  as  my  lover  is  very  ardent  in  his 
professions,  and  my  heart,  could  he  discover  its  inmost  feelings,  is  no  less  repugnant  to 
delay  than  his  own. 

However,  my  dear  girl,  to  confess  the  truth,  I  will  inform  you  that  I  received  the 
offer  of  his  hand  with  all  that  rapture  which  derives  its  origin  from  pure  love,  and 
accepted  with  that  candor,  which  I  sincerely  trust,  I  shall  never  (even  for  a  moment) 
lose  sight  of.  Yes,  my  beloved  friend,  the  most  important  action  of  your  friend's  life, 
on  which  all  her  future  felicity  or  misery  depends,  is  finally  determined  upon  ;  and  on 
Wednesday  next  I  am  pledged  to  become  the  wife  of  the  only  man  I  ever  loved 

Agreeably,  therefore,  to  a  long-standing  promise,  I  shall  expect  that  you  will  make 
it  conyenient  to  attend  as  my  bridemaid.  And  believe  me  to  be,  my  dear  girl, 

Ever  faithfully 

Your  affectionate  friend. 


94  RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 

No.  1290  WALNUT  STREET,  May  3,  189-, 
MY  DEAR  LAURA  : 

rH£  ANSWER  The  fresh  proof  you  have  given  me  of  your  friendship  and  confidence,  would,  if  any 

thing  could  do  so,  increase  that  friendly  interest  I  have  ever  felt  in  all  which  eoncerne*. 
you.  However,  though  I  have  ten  thousand  things  to  say,  I  shall  reserve  the  whole  tiU 
we  meet. 

I  shall  certainly  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  attending  upon  you  in  an  official  capaciU 
on  your  wedding-day,  when  you  may  expect  that  I  design  to  have  my  laugh  out,  though 
believe  me,  without  any  joke,  to  be 

Yours  ever,  most  faithfully, 

JOSEPHINE. 


TO  A  LADY 
REFUSING  A 
FAVOR 


THE  PINES,  March  11,  189-. 
DEAR  MADAM  : 

It  is  very  painful  to  me  to  be  under  the  necessity  of  replying  to  your  letter  o* 
yesterday's  date,  as  I  cannot  at  the  same  time  render  you  the  assistance  you  require 
Had  it  been  in  my  power,  I  should  have  instantly  complied,  as  I  should  be  happy,  at 
all  times,  if  possible,  to  anticipate  your  wishes  ;  I  trust,  therefore,  you  will  forgive  mt 
these  lines,  and  believe  me  to  be  (although  I  do  not  in  the  present  instance  prove  it) 

Your  sincere  friend, 

LEANDER  WILMINGTON. 


FROM  ONE 
MARRIED  LADY 
IN  INDIA  TO 
ANOTHER  IN 
AMERICA 


BUNGARAPOORA,  June  13,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  MRS.  PATMORE  : 

After  so.  many  years'  absence,  I  was,  indeed,  delighted  to  hear  that  yourself  and 
your  dear  little  ones  were  alive  and  well,  and  that  your  married  life  appeared  to  have 

realized  every  happiness  you  deserved.     I  assure  you  that  I  plagued  Colonel with 

questions  till  he  was  utterly  incapable  of  saying  anything  more  about  you,  and  that  tne 
delightful  idea  of  writing  once  more  to  my  dear  old  friend  and  schoolfellow,  is  almost 
too  much  for  me  to  believe  it  true. 

My  life,  like  your  own,  has  been  a  happy  and  prosperous  one.  You  can  pardon  5 
mother's  vanity,  when  I  assure  you  that  my  children  are  all  that  I  could  wish.  Herbert. 
the  eldest,  is  already  established  in  a  situation  calculated  to  place  him  in  an  excellent 
position  hereafter,  while  his  conduct  is  such  as  to  make  him  beloved  both  as  a  son  and 
a  brother.  Agnes,  whom  you  recollect  as  a  little  thing  in  a  white  frock  and  blue  sash, 

is  engaged  to  the  eldest  son  of  Colonel ,  who  bids  fair  to  make  her  an  excellent 

husband,  and  who  likewise  possesses  interest  likely  to  insure  him  future  success. 

As  for  the  younger  ones,  I  assure  you  that  they  are  as  amiable  children  as  (allowing 
for  the  inevitable  whims  and  mischief  natural  to  all  of  us)  I  could  hope  for.  Baby  (who 
is  just  fifteen  months  old)  is  universally  voted  a  prodigy  of  talent,  and  is  petted  and 
spoilt  by  everybody.  My  dear  husband,  who  is  never  happy  except  with  his  children 
around  him,  has  so  firm,  and  yet  so  kindly  an  influence  over  them, .that  we  are  able  to 
treat  them  as  friends,  and  waive  the  stern  control  which  is  unhappily  required,  and 
sometimes  injudiciously  practiced,  in  many  families. 

Now  that  we  have  once  more  resumed  correspondence,  I  hope  that  our  letters  may 
be  less  like  "angels'  visits,"  than  heretofore,  and  that  I  may  hear  all  about  you  and 
yours.  With  a  prayer  for  a  blessing  on  yourself,  your  husband,  and  dear  children, 
believe  me,  Dear  Alice, 

Ever  your  affectionate  friend, 

To  MRS.  PATMORE.  SARAH  HIGGINS. 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS. 


95 


LETTER  OF 
HON. CHARLES 
SUMNER,  ON 
LEAVING  NEW 
YORK  FOR  ATRIP 
TO  EUROPE, TO 
PROF.  SIMON 
GREENLEAF, 
CAMBRIDGE, 
MASS. 


ASTOR  HOUSE,  N.  Y.,  December  7>  1837. 
MY  DEAR  FRIEND  : 

My  hours  of  terra  firma  are  numbered.  To-morrow  before  this  t'me  I  shall  be 
rocking  on  the  water.  Qualms  of  sea-sickness  will  be  upon  me  ;  and,  more  than  these, 
the  anxiety  and  regrets  at  leaving  friends,  kindred,  and  country.  It  is  no  slight  affair 
to  break  away  from  business  which  is  to  give  me  my  daily  bread  and  pass  across  the  sea 
to  untried  countries,  usages,  and  language,  and  I  feel  now  pressing  with  a  mountain's 
weight  the  responsibility  of  my  step. 

But  I  go  abroad  with  the  firmest  determination  to  devote  myself  to  self-improvement 
from  the  various  sources  of  study,  observation,  and  society,  and  to  return  an  American. 
Gladly  will  I  receive  any  of  those  accomplishments  or  modifications  of  character  which 
justly  proceed  from  an  extended  survey  of  the  human  family.  I  pray  fervently  that  1 
may  return  with  benefits  on  my  head,  and  that  the  affectations  of  character  and  indif 
ference  to  country,  which  are  thought  sometimes  to  proceed  from  travel,  may  not  reacis 
me.  All  this  is  in  the  unknown  future,  which  I  may  not  penetrate. 

To  the  candid  judgment  and  criticism  of  my  friends  I  shall  submit  myself  on  my 
return,  and  shall  esteem  it  one  of  the  highest  duties  of  friendship  to  correct  me  and 
assist  in  bringing  me  back  to  the  path  of  sense  and  simplicity,  if  it  shall  be  found  that 
I  have  departed  from  it. 

Do  not  let  it  be  said,  then,  that  I  shall  be  spoiled  by  Europe,  but  rather  suggest 
that  I  shall  return  with  an  increased  love  for  my  country,  an  admiration  for  its  institutions, 
and  added  capacity  for  performing  my  duiy  in  life.  My  knowledge  of  character  must  be 
elevated,  and  my  own  ambition  have  higher  objects.  If  this  is  not  so,  then  I  shall  have 
seen  Europe  in  vain,  and  my  friends  may  regret  their  generous  confidence  in  me. 

My  pen  trembles  in  my  hand  as  in  that  of  a  culprit  who  sees  before  him  the  awful 
tree,  and  co'ints  the  seconds  which  remain  to  him.  I  have  a  thousand  things  to  say,  but 
no  time  in  which  to  express  them  ;  so,  with  love  to  Mrs.  Greenleaf,  farewell,  and  believe 


me, 


Your  affectionate  friend, 

CHARLES  SUMNEK. 


LETTER  OF 
CHARLES  LAMB 
TO  SOUTHEY 
CONCERNING  HIS 
NEW  COAT 


MY  DEAR  SOUTHEY  : 

My  tailor  has  brought  me  home  a  new  coat,  lapelled,  with  a  velvet  collar.  He 
assures  me  that  everybody  wears  velvet  collars  now.  Some  are  born  fashionable,  some 
achieve  fashion,  and  others,  like  your  humble  servant,  have  fashion  thrust  upon  them. 
The  rogue  has  been  making  inroads  hitherto  by  modest  degrees,  foisting  upon  me  an 
additional  button,  recommending  garters  ;  but  to  come  upon  me  thus  in  full  tide  oi 
luxury  neither  becomes  him  as  a  tailor  or  the  ninth  of  a  man. 

My  meek  gentleman  was  robbed  the  other  day,  coming  with  his  wifc  and  family  itt 
a  one-horse  chaise  from  Hampstead.  The  villains  rifled  him  of  four  guineas,  some 
shillings  and  sixpences,  and  a  bundle  of  customers'  measures,  which  they  swore  were 
bank-notes.  They  did  not  shoot  him,  and  when  they  rode  off  he  addressed  them  with 
profound  gratitude,  saying,  "Gentlemen,  I  wish  you  good-night,  and  am  very  much 
obliged  to  you  that  you  have  not  used  me  ill !"  And  this  is  the  cuckoo  J-hat  has  had 
the  audacity  to  force  upon  me  ten  buttons  on  a  side,  and  a  black  velvet  collar.  A  cursed 
ninth  of  a  scoundrel !  When  you  write  to  Lloyd,  he  wishes  his  Jacobin  corr^pondents 
to  address  him  as  Mr.  C.  L. 

What  I  have  owed  to  thee  I  can  never  forget ;  God  love  you  and  yours. 

CHARLES  LAMB. 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


fNrOUNCING 
MKIVAL 


TO  A  FRIEND  ON 
HER  INTENDED 
MARRIAGE 


TO  A 

GENTLEMAN  ON 
HIS  MARRIAGE 
ENGAGEMENT 


TO  A  FRIEND 
ON  HIS  GOOD 
FORTUNE 


0  A  FRIEND 
•-  N  THE  BIRTH 
OF  &  SON 


DEAR  RODERICK  : 

I  have  just  arrived  on  the  Steamship  Majestic,  after  a  quick  and  pleasant  voyage 
Expect  me  to  greet  you  face  to  face  at  my  earliest  convenience. 

As  ever, 

BRANDON. 


LETTERS  OF  CONGRATULATION. 


MY  DEAR 


VICKSBURG,  September  20,  189-. 


No  one,  I  believe,  can  be  more  desirous  to  hear  of  your  welfare  and  your  prosperous 
settlement  in  the  marriage  state  than  myself.  I  have  long  been  sensible  of  your  worth, 
your  goodness  of  heart,  your  rectitude  of  principle,  and  your  warmth  of  friendship. 
Enviable  among  men  will  be  the  lot  of  him  who  is  destined  to  become  your  partner  foi 

life  ;  and  fortunate,  indeed,  was  Mr. in  that  introduction  which  first  presented 

you  to  his  notice.     As  for  Mr. ,  I  need  scarcely  observe  that  I  approve  of  yoxit 

choice,  in  which  you  have  shown  a  discrimination  that  does  credit  to  your  taste,  and  to 
that  good  sense  which  has  been  the  guide  of  your  past  life. 

Adieu,  and  believe  me  to  be,  my  dear , 

Yours  most  sincerely  and  atfectionately, 

PHILADELPHIA,  January  6,  189-. 
DEAR  OLD  FELLOW  : 

And  so  you  really  are  to  be  a  Benedict !  Well !  I  have  no  objection,  provided  you 
feel  convinced  that  it  is  a  measure  likely  to  tend  to  your  happiness.  For  myself,  I  am 
Still  a  bachelor,  although  I  do  not  know  what  such  temptation  as  you  appear  to  have 
undergone  might  not  do  towards  upsetting  my  present  resolutions.  You  know  I  have 
no  antipathy  to  matrimony  :  bv.t,  unlike  yourself,  I  have  not  independent  means  sufficient 
to  render  me  fearless  of  consequences,  and  should  not  be  disposed  to  involve  any  woman, 
whom  I  could  like  sufficiently  to  make  my  wife,  in  a  doubtful  state  of  circumstances,  if 
not  in  a  discomfort  which  must  be  painful  to  a  man  of  proper  feeling  and  honor.  At 
the  same  time,  believe  me,  I  cordially  sympathize  with  your  delight  at  the  prospect  of 
an  agreeable  union,  and  wish  sincerely  that  every  liappiness  may  be  the  result. 

Ever  truly  yours, 

LOUISVILLE,  Ky.,  February  10,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  HOWARD  : 

The  news  of  your  good  fortune  gives  me  great  satisfaction.  No  one  can  possess 
true  friendship  without  rejoicing  in  the  prosperity  of  a  friend.  To  one  who  has  always 
been  manly,  true  and  noble,  and  who  has  labored  persistently  toward  a  particular  end, 
success  must  be  extremely  gratifying. 

It  will  ever  be  my  delight  to  hear  that  you  are  prospering  in  your  undertakings, 
and  if  in  any  way  I  can  serve  you,  you  can  rely  upon  my  best  endeavors.  With  every 
good  wish  for  yourself  and  Mrs.  Kerr,  Ever  faithfully  yours, 

ST.  Louis,  Mo.,  June  15,  189-. 
DEAR  OLD  FRIEND  : 

The  happy  announcement  that  a  son  and  heir  has  been  born  to  you,  gives  mi 
extreme  satisfaction.  I  always  thought  you  would  distinguish  yourself  in  some  way, 
and  would  do  something  whereby  your  name  might  descend  to  posterity.  And  now, 
my  worthy  chum,  it  seems  you  have  done  ft. 

I  will  not  draw  any  picture  of  the  car^s  and  anxieties  of  fatherhood,  such  as  carrying 
a  squalling  youngster  on  your  arm  at  3  o'clock  in  the  morning,  running  for  the  doctor 
when  the  little  one  has  spasms  of  wind  colic,  opening  your  eyes  with  astonishment  a? 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS. 


TO  FRIENDS 
ON  A  MARRIAGE 
ANNIVERSARY 


A  LETTER  OF 
CONDOLENCE 
ON  THE  DEATH 
OF  A  HUSBAND 


THE  SAME,  ON  A 
CHILD'S  DEATH 


bills  ror  shoes,  dresses  and  toys,  but  will  content  myself  with  sharing  the  joy  which 
you  feel  over  the  new  arrival,  and  reminding  you  that  whatever  may  be  the  cares  and 
anxieties  which  children  bring  with  them,  in  their  intelligence,  their  artlessness,  their 
love,  there  is  abundant  compensation  and  delight.  Wishing  you  and  the  happy  mother, 
as  well  as  the  young  gentleman  who  will  soon  have  the  honor  of  calling  you  papa,  the 
the  best  of  Heaven's  blessings,  I  remain  Yours  most  sincerely, 

MONTGOMERY,  ALA.,  Octobers,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  MR.  AND  MRS.  TREVELYAN  : 

The  announcement  of  the  fifteenth  anniversary  of  your  wedding  recalls  the  long 
period  of  time  through  which  it  has  been  our  happy  privilege  to  enjoy  an  uninterrupted 
friendship.  This  is  your  crystal  wedding,  and  you  will  allow  me  to  say  that  I  trust 
your  lives  will  always  be  as  bright  and  sparkling  as  the  gifts  which  you  will  receive. 

1  am  sure  you  are  proving  the  blessedness  of  married  life,  and  they  always  do  who 
enjoy  mutual  confidence,  sympathy  and  support.  The  darkness  which  at  times  has 
crossed  the  path  along  which  you  have  now  traveled  for  fifteen  years,  has  always  had 
its  silver  lining,  and  my  wish  is  that  no  greater  sorrows  may  overtake  you  in  the  future 
than  have  fallen  to  your  lot  already.  These  you  have  borne  with  Christian  patience, 
and  have  thus  transformed  them  into  benedictions. 

Accept  my  hearty  congratulations  on  this  anniversary  of  your  nip.rned  life,  and  may 
another,  which  shall  be  tinged  with  silver,  and  another  still,  enriched  with  gold,  fall  to 
your  lot.  Very  affectionately  yours, 

LETTERS  OF  SYMPATHY. 

CHICAGO,  June  i8th,  189-. 
MY  DEAR : 

If  any  consolation  can  be  afforded  tinder  so  heavy  an  affliction  as  you  have  just 
experienced,  it  must  come  from  a  higher  power  than  mine.  Your  own  strong  sense  of 
religion,  and  of  our  duty  of  resignation  to  a  power  that  is  beyond  our  control,  and  a 
will  that  is  ever  beneficently  directed  towards  our  good,  must  uphold  you  in  this  most 
bitter  trial.  I  well  know  how  painful  the  well-meant,  but  often  mistaken,  officiousness 
of  friends  may  be  on  such  occasions,  or  I  should  have  hastened  to  your  side  id  sought 
to  assuage  the  pangs  of  your  overworn  spirit. 

It  were  a  melancholy  pleasure  to  dwell  upon  the  virtues  and  accomplishments  of 
your  late  beloved  husband  ;  but  the  subject  is  too  painful  for  me,  and,  in  the  confidence 

that  he  is  in  the  enjoyment  of  an  everlasting  happiness,  such  as,  my  dear ,  even 

you  could  not  have  realized  to  him  on  earth,  I  hope  that  you  will  support  your  spirits 
both  for  your  own  and  your  children's  sake,  and  look  forward  to  that  brighter  and 
happier  world  in  which  we  shall  go  to  those  "rho  cannot  return  to  us. 

God  comfort  you,  dear  . 

Your  affectionate  and  sorrowing  friend, 

To  Mrs. — 

NEW  YORK,  July  5th,  189  -. 
MY  DEAH  : 

If  anything  could  have  caused  me  especial  pain,  it  was  the  news  of  your  sad  be 
reavement.  How  I  remember  your  dear  child  !  Affectionate,  lively,  and  intelligent 
ever  displaying  a  thoughtfulness  beyond  his  years,  and  holding  forth  hopes  of  happi 
ness  in  after  times  which  will  scarcely  bear  reflection. 

It  has,  indeed,  been  a  heavy  blow,  and  I  scarcely  know  how  to  talk  of  consolation 

under  so  bitter  an  affliction.     But  think,  my  dear ,  of  One  who  "  careth  for  all, " 

who  loves  little  children  beyond  others,  and  think  of  the  bright  and  never-ending  futr^ 
7 


'E  SAME,  ON 
VERSE  OF 
UNE 


ANNOUNCING 
TO  A  LADY  THE 
DEATH  OF 
HER  SISTER 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 

life  of  that  dear  child,  whose  spirit  has  passed  away  but  for  a  brief  period,  whose  soui 
only  waits  in  heaven  to  hail  the  mother  from  whom  he  has  been  parted. 

I  can  say  no  more  ;  human  consolations  are  weak  and  poor.  May  a  higher  power 
do  that  which  I  cannot  1 

Ever  sincerely  yours, 

To  Mrs. 

STATEN  ISLAND,  January  3,  189-. 
DEAR : 

I  am  truly  pained  to  hear  of  the  melancholy  change  in  your  circumstances.  I  had 
hoped  that  your  husband's  position  and  connections  would  have  prevented  the  possibility 
of  his  embarking  in  any  scheme  where  there  seemed  room  for  uncertainty.  But,  unhappily, 
the  speculative  spirit  of  the  age  is  too  seductive  to  be  easily  withstood,  and  we  are  every 
day  hearing  of  families  being  reduced  to  absolute  poverty,  more  from  mischance  than 
wilful  error. 

But  you  must  not  only  cheer  up,  but  labor  to  cheer  your  husband  likewise.  Let 
him  find  that  he  possesses  a  wife  who  will  not  display  her  annoyance  at  the  deprivation 
of  many  (perhaps  unnecessa^)  luxuries  of  life,  and  whose  determination  to  economize 
will  make  poverty  seem  less  poor,  and  whose  affection  will  insure  him  that  comfort 
which  the  wealthiest  position,  without  undivided  affection,  would  wholly  fail  to  realize. 

Nor  must  you  look  at  matters  as  hopeless.  Although  changed  in  your  means,  you 
have  not  lost  in  character.  Your  true  friends  look  upon  you  with  the  same  eyes  as 
formerly,  and  for  the  shallow  and  insincere  you  ought  not,  cannot  care.  Besides,  a 
favorable  change  must  result  from  your  husband's  persevering  and  consistent  efforts  ; 
and  by  the  exercise  of  economy,  and  the  patient  submission  to  a  few  privations,  you 
may  ere  long  fully  retrieve  the  position  you  have  already  adduced,  and  which  legiti- 
tnately  belongs  to  you. 

That  success  and  happiness  may  soon  spring  out  of  the  present  unfavorable  condition 
of  things,  is  the  hearty  and  earnest  wish  of,  Yours  ever  affectionately, 

To  Mrs. . 

JACKSON,  Miss.,  May  18,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  MADAM  : 

You  have  long  been  aware  of  the  painful  and  serious  illness  under  which  your  deal 
sister  has  been  suffering  but,  perhaps,  you  have  cot  been  fully  sensible  of  its  dangerous 
tendency,  and  of  the  lears  always  enteitained  by  those  around  her,  that  its  termination 
would  be  fatal.  Would  that  our  fears  had  been  without  foundation  ;  but  I  am  reluctantly 
compelled  to  tell  you  that  our  worst  anticipations  have  been  too  mournfully  realized, 
your  poor  sister  having  expired  (last  evening),  though,  it  is  consolatory  to  state,  with 
little  bodily  suffering.  She  had  borne  her  affliction  with  the  fortitude  of  a  Christian, 
and  retained  her  faculties  to  her  last  moments,  yielding  her  breath  in  full  peace  of  mind, 
and  convinced  '.hat  she  was  leaving  this  earthly  state  for  a  better  and  a  happier  in  another 
world. 

Your  dear  mother  is  in  such  a  state  of  prostration,  that  she  finds  the  task  of  writing 
to  you  too  painiul  for  her  feelings,  and  has  expressed  her  wish  that  I,  the  intimate  friend 
of  your  late  sister,  should  be  the  communicant  of  the  sad  intelligence.  She  desires  me 
to  say  how  much  your  presence  would  help  to  console,  not  only  herself,  but  also  your 
father,  and  the  whole  of  the  family.  They  hope,  therefore,  to  see  you  by  the  earliest 
opportunity,  and  request  me  to  send  you  their  best  love. 

Accept,  dear  madam,  my  sincerest  condolence  under  this  sad  bereavement  and 
affliction,  and  Believe  me  to  remain, 

Ever  vours,  sincerely, 

To  Mrs. 


THOMAS  GRAY'S 
LETTER  ON  THE 
DEATH  OF 
HIS  AUNT 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS. 


99 


[This  letter  on  the  death  of  his  aunt,  Mrs.  Mary  Antrobus,  who  died  the  5th  of 
November,  is  written  by  Thomas  Gray,  the  author  of  the  celebrated  Elegy  in  a  Country 
Church  Yard,  and  many  other  beautiful  poems  .  u.e  was  a  man  of  great  genius  and 
elevated  mind,  though  open  to  every  affection  and  tender  attachment ;  he  refused  with 
steadiness,  the  situation  of  Poet  Laureate,  which  was  offered  him  by  the  Crown.  He 
was  born  in  1716,  and  died  in  1771]. 


The  unhappy  news  I  have  just  received  from  you  equally  surprises  and  afflicts  me. 
I  have  lost  a  person  I  loved  very  much,  and  have  been  used  to  from  my  infancy  ;  but  am 
much  more  concerned  for  your  loss,  the  circumstances  of  which  I  forbear  to  dwell  upon, 
as  you  must  be  too  sensible  of  them  yourself;  and  will,  I  fear,  more  and  more  need  a 
consolation  that  no  one  can  give,  except  He  who  has  preserved  her  to  you  so  many 
years,  and  at  last,  when  it  was  His  pleasure,  has  taken  her  from  us  to  Himself;  and 
perhaps  if  we  reflect  upon  what  she  left  in  this  life,  we  may  look  upon  this  as  an 
instance  of  His  goodness  both  to  her  and  to  those  that  loved  her. 

She  might  have  languished  many  years  before  your  eyes  in  a  continual  increase  of 
pain,  and  totally  helpless  ;  she  might  have  long  wished  to  end  her  misery,  without 
being  able  to  attain  it ;  or  perhaps  even  lost  all  sense  and  yet  continued  to  breathe,  a 
sad  spectacle  to  such  as  must  have  felt  more  for  her  than  she  could  have  done  for  herself. 
However  you  may  deplore  your  own  loss,  yet  think  that  she  is  at  last  easy  and  happy  ; 
and  has  now  more  occasion  to  pity  us  than  we  her.  I  hope  and  beg  you  will  support 
yourself  with  that  resignation  we  owe  to  Him  who  gave  us  our  being  for  our  good,  and 
who  deprives  us  of  it  for  the  same  reason. 


THE  COUNTESS 
OF  HERTFORD'S 
REPLY  TO 
DR. BURNET 


SIR: 

I  am  very  sensibly  obliged  by  the  kind  compassion  you  express  for  me,  under  my 
heavy  affliction.  The  Meditations  you  have  furnished  me  with,  afford  the  strongest 
motives  for  consolation  that  can  be  offered  to  a  person  under  my  unhappy  circumstances. 
The  dear  lamented  son  I  have  lost,  was  the  pride  and  joy  of  my  heart ;  but  I  hope  I  may 
be  the  more  easily  excused  for  having  looked  on  him  in  this  light,  since  he  was  not  so 
from  the  outward  advantages  he  possessed,  but  from  the  virtues  and  rectitude  of  his 
mind. 

The  prospects  which  flattered  me,  in  regard  to  him,  were  not  drawn  from  his  dis 
tinguished  rank,  or  from  the  beauty  of  his  person,  but  from  the  hopes  that  his  example 
would  have  been  serviceable  to  the  cause  of  virtue,  and  would  have  shown  the  younger 
part  of  the  world,  that  it  was  possible  to  be  cheerful  without  being  foolish  or  vicious, 
and  to  be  religious  without  severity  or  melancholy.  His  whole  life  was  one  uninter 
rupted  course  of  duty  and  affection  to  his  parents  ;  and  when  he  found  the  hand  cf  death 
upon  him,  his  only  regret  was  to  think  on  the  agonies  which  must  rend  their  hearts ; 
for  he  was  perfectly  contented  to  leave  the  world,  as  his  conscience  did  not  reproach  him 
with  any  presumptuous  sins,  and  he  hoped  his  errors  would  be  forgiven. 

Thus  he  resigned  his  innocent  soul  into  the  hands  of  a  merciful  Creator  on  the 
evening  of  his  birthday,  which  completed  him  nineteen.  You  will  not  be  surprised, 
sir,  that  the  death  of  such  a  son  should  occasion  the  deepest  sorrow  ;  yet  at  the  same 
time  it  leaves  us  the  most  comfortable  assurance,  that  he  is  happier  than  our  fondest 
wishes  and  care  could  have  made  him,  which  must  enable  us  to  support  the  remainder 
of  years  which  it  shall  please  God  to  allot  for  us  here  without  murmuring  or  discontent, 
and  quicken  our  endeavors  to  prepare  ourselves  to  follow  to  that  happy  place  where  out 
dear  valuable  child  is  gone  before  us.  I  beg  the  continuance  of  your  prayers,  and  am, 

Sir,  yours,  etc., 


IOO 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


FRANCES  RIDLEY 
HAVERGAL  TO  A 
MOTHER  ON  THE 
DEATH  OF 
HER  CHILD 


LEAMINGTON,   December  10,  189-. 
DEAR,  DEAR  MRS.  SMITH  : 

What  can  I  do  but  just  weep  with  you  !  I  can  only  guess  what  this  sorrow  is.  Only 
I  know  it  must  be  the  greatest,  except  one,  which  could  come  to  you.  That  dear  little, 
beautiful  thing  !  He  looked  so  sweet  and  happy  when  I  saw  him  ;  no  baby  face  ever 
haunted  me  as,  somehow,  his  did.  If  you  could  only  see  him  now,  how  beautiful  he 
must  be  now  that  he  has  seen  Jesus,  and  shines  in  the  light  of  God.  It  is  even  more 
wonderful  to  think  of  that  great  transition  for  a  baby  than  for  a  grown  person ;  one 
cannot  imagine  the  sudden  expansion  into  such  knowledge  and  conscious  joy.  ? 

I  was  looking  back  this  morning  upon  long  memories  of  soul- trials,  years  of  groping 
and  stumbling  and  longing,  sinning  and  sorrowing,  of  heart  weariness  and  faintness, 
temptation,  and  failure ;  all  these  things  which  I  suppose  every  Christian  must  pass 
through,  more  or  less,  at  some  stage  or  other  on  the  way  home ;  and  the  first  distinct 
thought  which  came  through  the  surprise  and  sorrow  at  the  sad  news  was,  "That  dear 
little  redeemed  one  is  spared  all  this,  taken  home  without  any  of  these  roughest  rough 
nesses  of  the  way ;  he  will  never  fear  doubt  or  sin,  never  grieve  his  Saviour.  Is  it  not 
the  very  best  and  kindest  thing  that  tender  Saviour  could  do  for  him  ?  Only  it  is  not 
what  you  meant  when  you  prayed  that  he  might  be  his  own. 

But  better  he  is  with  him  at  once  and  forever,  and  waiting  for  you  to  come  home. 
I  am  only  writing  all  this  because  my  heart  is  full,  and  must  pour  out  a  little.  I  know 
we  cannot  comfort, — only  Jesus  can ;  and  I  shall  go  and  plead  long  and  intensely  for 
this  as  soon  as  I  have  closed  my  letter.  He  must  be  specially  "  touched  "  in  such  a 
sorrow,  for  he  knows  by  actual  experience  what  human  love  is.  Three  such  great 
sorrows  in  one  year  !  How  specially  he  must  be  watching  you  in  this  furnace  ! 

Yours  with  deepest  sympathy, 


PRESENTATION 
OF  A  WATCH 


ANSWER 


LETTERS  ACCOMPANYING  GIFTS. 

PITTSBURGH,  Pa.,  Nov.  3,  189-. 
MR.  WILLIAM  MCLEAN. 

The  valuable  service  which  you  have  long  rendered  to  the  firm  whose  names  are 
subscribed  below,  calls  for  a  formal  acknowledgment.  While  it  must  be  evident  to  you 
that  we  have  appreciated  your  personal  qualities  and  the  efficiency  you  have  shown  in 
our  employ,  it  affords  us  pleasure  to  send  you  a  more  substantial  testimonial  than  mere 
words  can  convey. 

Please  accept  the  accompanying  watch  as  an  expression  of  our  good  will  and  oui 
sense  of  the  eminent  service  you  have  rendered. 

Sincerely  yours, 

JOHN  HAWSER,  ") 

B.  G.  BERGEN,  [•  Hercules  Iron  Company. 
EDMUND  DAY,  _) 
MR.  WILLIAM  MCLEAN. 

BELLEFONTE,  PA.,  Nov.  5,  189-. 
MESSRS.  JOHN  HAWSER,  B.  G.  BERGEN,  EDMUND  DAY  : 

GENTLEMEN — I  hardly  know  which  is  the  greater,  my  gratification  or  surprise,  at 
the  beautiful  and  unexpected  gift  just  received  from  your  hands.  Words  seem  too  cold  to 
to  express  my  thanks  and  the  pleasure  I  feel  at  receiving  such  a  testimonial  to  my  services. 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS.  101 

Gentlemen,  through  the  twenty  years  during  which  we  have  been  associated,  I 
have  found  you  upright  and  honorable  ;  and  this  token  of  your  esteem  increases,  ii 
that  were  possible,  the  high  regard  I  have  always  entertained  for  you. 

Believe  me,  with  sentiments  of  profound  respect, 

Your  faithful  servant, 
To  the  Hercules  Iron  Co.  WILLIAM  McLEAN. 


Miss  GOULD  : 

Please  accept  the  flowers  herewith  sent,  with  the  wish  that  your  pathway  in  life 
ACCOMPANYING     may  always  be  strewn  with  roses.         Sincerely,  your  friend, 
A  BOUQUET  JAMES  GLENWOOD. 


PHILADELPHIA,  May  20,  189-. 
MY  DEAR  MRS.  PRICE  : 

May  I  request  your  acceptance  of  the  inclosed  tickets  for  the  afternoon  performance 
MATINEE  at  the  Academy  to-day  ?     I  am  sure  you  and  the  young  ladies  would  enjoy  the  play 

(The  Old  Homestead).     I  am  just  leaving  town,  or  would  call  in  person. 

Yours  most  truly, 
MRS.  M.  E.  PRICE,  404  Crown  Street.  HENRY  BAKER. 


TRENTON,  May  10,  189-. 
MR.  J.  B.  DAVIS, 

Akron,  O. 
DEAR  FRIEND  : 

I  send  you  what  you  have  so  often  asked  for — a  photograph  of  myself.     I  think  it 

ACCMPANYING  j  ,  .,        MI      1  J  4.1.    4        t.  i*  t-  •     j    j 

A  PHOTOGRAPH  a  good  one,  and  hope  it  will  please  you,  and  that  when  you  see  it  you  may  be  reminded 
of  the  many  pleasant  hours  we  have  spent  together.  Write  and  tell  me  what  you  think 
of  it.  Yours  sincerely, 

ELLA  WEBSTER. 


AKRON,  O.,  June  i,  189-. 
DEAR  Miss  WEBSTER  : 

Thanks  for  the  capital  likeness  of  your  well-remembered  face,  which  has  just  reached 

ft  F  PL  V  TO  THE 

ABOVE  me-     ^e  expression  is  perfect.     Hamlet  tells  Horatio  that  he  can  see  his  father  with 

his  "  mind's  eye, "  but  though  the  memory  is  tenacious  of  the  images  of  those  who  are 
dear  to  us,  a  good  portrait  of  a  friend  seems  to  bring  the  face  more  palpably  before  us 
than  any  exercise  of  the  mental  vision.  I  shall  keep  the  picture  where  I  can  pay  my 
respects  to  it  daily,  and  hope  soon  to  see  the  fascinating  original  of  which  it  is  the 
shadow.  Yours  faithfully, 

J.  B.  DAVIS. 


MATRON  BELLEVUE  HOSPITAL  : 

I  send  you  fifty  baskets  of  fruit  and  flowers,  which  you  will  please  distribute  among 
tb-6  sufferers  who  receive  the  benefit  of  your  patient  care  and  loving  sympathy.  Trust' 
ing  these  gifts  will  bring  some  measure  of  good  cheer  to  the  poor  unfortunates  in  yout 
hospital  wards,  I  remain,  etc., 

NEW  YORK,  May  27th.  MRS.  RUSSELL  SAGE. 


VO2 


TO  A  POOR 
FAM'LY 


FROM  A 
GENTLEMAN 
TO  A  LADY 
WITH  WHOM 
KE  IS  IN  LOVE 


THE  LADY'S 

ANSWER 


ANSWER  TO  THE 
PRECEDING 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALI   OCCASIONS. 

DEAR  MRS.  MOTT  : 

The  parcel  herewith  sent  will  express  to  you  my  sympathy  in  your  misforttms. 
My  heart  would  do  more  if  the  ability  were  not  wanting. 

Believe  me,  yours  most  sincerely, 

LOVE  LETTERS. 

BEAR  Miss : 

I  have  three  times  attempted  to  give  you  a  verbal  relation  of  the  contents  of  this 
letter  ;  but  my  heart  as  otten  failed.  I  know  not  in  what  light  it  may  be  considered, 
only  if  I  can  form  any  notion  of  my  own  heart  from  the  impression  made  upon  it  by 
your  many  amiable  accomplishments,  my  happiness  in  this  world  will,  in  s  great 
measure,  depend  on  your  answer. 

My  circumstances  are  independent,  my  character  hitherto  unblemished,  of  which 
you  shall  have  the  most  undoubted  proof.  You  have  already  seen  some  of  my  relations 
at  your  aunt's  in  Blank  street,  particularly  my  mother,  with  whom  I  now  live.  Youf 
aunt  will  inform  you  concerning  our  family,  and  if  it  is  to  your  satisfaction,  I  shall  not 
only  consider  myself  extremely  happy,  but  shall  also  make  it  the  principal  study  of 
my  future  life,  to  spend  my  days  in  the  company  of  her  whom  I  do  prefer  to  all  others 
in  che  world.  I  shall  wait  for  your  answer  with  the  utmost  impatience. 

Most  sincerely,  your  real  admirer, 

DEAR  SIR  : 

I  received  your  letter  last  night,  and  as  it  was  on  a  subject  I  had  not  yet  any  thoughts 
of,  you  will  not  wonder  when  I  tell  you  I  was  a  good  deal  surprised.  Although  I  have 
seen  and  familiarly  conversed  with  you  at  different  times,  yet  I  had  not  the  most  distant 
thoughts  of  your  making  proposals  of  such  a  nature. 

Some  of  your  sex  have  often  asserted  that  we  are  fond  of  flattery,  and  very  much 
pleased  with  praise  ;  I  shall  therefore  suppose  you  one  of  that  class,  and  excuse  you 
for  those  encomiums  bestowed  upon  me  in  your  letter :  but  I  am  afraid,  were  I  to  comply 
with  your  proposals,  you  would  soon  be  convinced  that  the  charms  you  mention,  and 
seem  to  value  so  much,  are  merely  exterior  appearances,  which  like  the  summer's 
flower,  will  very  soon  fade,  and  all  those  mighty  professions  of  love  will  end,  at  last, 
either  in  indifference,  or  which  is  worse,  disgust. 

An  appearance  of  sincerity  runs  through  your  letter,  but  there  is  one  particular  to 
which  I  have  a  very  strong  objection  ;  you  say  that  you  live  with  your  mother,  yet  you 
do  not  say  that  you  have  either  communicated  your  sentiments  to  her  or  to  your  othej 
relations.  1  must  freely  and  honestly  tell  you,  that  as  I  would  not  disoblige  my  own 
relations,  neither  would  I,  on  any  consideration,  admit  of  any  addresses  contrary  to 
the  inclinations  of  yours.  If  you  can  clear  up  this  to  my  satisfaction,  I  shall  send  you 
a  more  explicit  answer,  and  am, 

Your  most  obedient,  humble  servant, 


DEAR  Miss : 

I  return  you  a  thousand  thanks  for  your  letter,  and  it  is  with  the  greatest  pleasure 
I  can  clear  up  to  your  satisfaction  the  matter  you  doubted  of.  Before  I  wrote  to  you  I 
communicated  the  affair  to  my  two  cousins,  but  had  not  courage  enough  to  mention  it 
to  my  mother,  but  that  is  now  over,  and  nothing,  she  says,  would  give  her  greater 
pleasure  than  to  see  me  married  to  a  young  lady  of  your  amiable  character.  But  to 
convince  you  of  my  sincerity,  she  has  sent  the  enclosed,  written  with  her  own  hand, 
I  solemnly  assure  you  I  am  totally  ignorant  of  its  contents,  except  that  she  told  me  ii 
was  in  approbation  of  my  suit.  If  you  will  give  me  leave  to  wait  on  you,  I  shall  thej& 
be  able  to  explain  things  more  particularly. 

l  remain,  as  ever,  you-*"  real  lover 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS. 


103 


FROM  THE 
GENTLEMAN'S 
MOTHER  TO 
THE  LADY 


THE  ANSWER 


THE  YOUNG 
LADY  TO  THE 
YOUNG 
GENTLEMAN 


F  ROM  THE  SAME 


DEAR  Miss : 

If  you  find  anything  in  these  lines  improperly  written  you  will  Ccuiaidly  excuse  it 
as  coming  from  the  hands  of  a  parent,  in  behalf  of  an  only,  beloved,  and  dutiful  son. 

My  dear  Charles  has  told  me  that  you  have  made  such  an  impression  on  him,  that 
he  knows  not  how  to  be  happy  in  any  one  else,  and  it  gives  me  great  happiness  to  find 
that  he  has  placed  his  affections  on  so  worthy  an  object.  Indeed  it  has  been  my  principal 
study  to  instruct  him  in  the  principles  of  our  holy  religion  ;  well  knowing  that  those 
who  do  not  fear  God  will  never  pay  any  regard  to  domestic  duties.  His  father  died 
when  his  son  was  only  ten  months  old,  and  being  deprived  of  the  parent,  all  my  conso 
lation  was  that  I  had  his  image  left  in  the  boy.  I  nursed  him  with  all  the  tenderness 
possible,  and  even  taught  him  to  read  and  write. 

When  he  was  of  a  proper  age  I  sent  him  to  a  boarding  school,  and  afterwards  to 
college.  Since  his  return  he  has  resided  constantly  with  me,  and  his  conduct  to  every 
one  with  whom  he  has  had  any  connection  has  been  equal  to  my  utmost  wishes.  At 
present,  my  dear  girl,  I  am  in  a  very  sickly  condition,  and  although  I  have  concealed  ""• 
from  him,  yet,  in  all  human  probability,  my  time  in  this  world  will  not  be  long. 

Excuse  the  indulgent  partiality  of  a  mother,  when  I  tell  you  it  is  my  real  opinion 
you  can  never  place  your  affection  on  a  more  worthy  young  man  than  my  son.  He  is 
endowed  with  more  real  worth  than  thousands  of  others  whom  I  have  known  ;  and  I 
have  been  told  of  instances  of  his  benevolence  which  he  has  industriously  concealed. 
I  have  only  to  add  further,  that  the  only  worldly  consideration  now  upon  my  mind  is 
to  see  him  happily  married,  and  then  my  whole  attention  shall  be  fixed  on  that  place 
where  I  hope  we  shall  all  enjoy  eternal  felicity.  I  am,  dear  Miss, 

Your  sincere  well  wisher, 

DEAR  MADAM : 

I  will  excuse  the  fondness  01  a  tender  mother  for  her  only  child.  Before  I  received 
yours  I  had  heard  of  the  unaffected  piety  and  the  many  accomplishments  of  your  son, 
so  that  I  was  in  no  way  surprised  at  what  you  said  concerning  him.  I  do  assure  you, 
madam,  that  I  would  prefer  an  alliance  with  you  before  even  nobility  itself,  and  I  think 
it  must  be  my  own  fault  if  I  ever  repent  calling  you  mother.  I  was  going  to  say,  that 
you  had  known  but  few  pleasures  in  this  life,  to  be  deprived  of  your  husband  so  soon, 
and  the  rest  of  your  life  spent  under  so  many  infirmities.  But  your  letter  convinces  me 
that  you  have  felt  more  real  pleasure  in  the  practice  of  virtue,  and  resignation  to  the 
Divine  Will,  than  ever  can  be  had  in  any,  nay,  even  the  greatest  temporal  enjoyments. 
I  have  sent  enclosed  a  few  lines  to  your  son,  to  which  I  refer  you  for  a  more  explicit 
answer.  I  remain,  your  sincere  well  wisher, 

MY  DEAR  CHARLES  : 

I  received  yours,  together  with  one  enclosed  from  your  mother,  and  congratulate  you 
on  the  happiness  you  have  had  in  being  brought  up  under  so  pious  and  indulgent  a 
parent.  I  hope  that  her  conduct  will  be  a  pattern  for  you  to  copy  after,  in  the  whole 
course  of  your  future  life  ;  it  is  virtue  alone  which  can  make  you  happy.  With  respect 
to  myself,  I  freely  acknowledge  that  I  have  not  at  present  any  reason  to  reject  your  offer, 
although  I  cannot  give  you  a  positive  answer  until  I  have  first  consulted  with  my  guardian. 
Monday  next  you  may  be  sure  of  hearing  from  me  ;  meanwhile  I  cannot  do  less  than  sub 
scribe  myself,  Most  affectionately  yours, 

MY  DEAR  CHARLES  : 

In  my  last  I  told  you  that  you  should  hear  from  me  soon,  and  therefore  I  now  sit 

down  to  fulfill  my  promise.     I  communicated  your  proposal  to  Mr. ,  who,  after 

he  had  written  to  his  correspondent  in ,  told  me  as  follows  ; 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 

"Miss,  I  have  inquired  concerning  the  young  gentleman,  and  the  information  I 
have  received  is  such,  that  I  not  only  approve  of  your  choice,  but  must  confess  that  if 
I  did  not  do  everything  in  my  power  to  forward  your  union,  I  should  be  acting  contrary 
to  the  request  of  your  father,  when  he  lay  on  his  death  bed.  You  ma)-,"  said  he  "  com 
municate  this  to  your  lover  as  soon  as  you  please,  and  may  every  happiness  attend  you 
both  in  time  and  eternity." 

And  now,  have  I  not  told  you  enough  ?  Some,  perhaps,  might  think  too  much  ; 
but  I  am  determined  to  begin  with  as  much  sincerity  as  I  could  wish  to  practice  if 
standing  in  the  presence  of  my  Maker.  To  expect  the  same  from  you  is  reasonable  ;  I 
look  for  it,  and  shall  be  very  unhappy  if  disappointed.  But  I  will  hope  for  the  best, 
and  doubt  not  but  the  religious  education  bestowed  on  you  by  your  worthy  mother, 
will  operate  on  the  whole  of  your  future  conduct  in  life.  You  may,  therefore,  lay  aside 
the  tedious  formality  of  courtship  and  write  to  me  as  your  future  wife. 

Yours  with  the  greatest  affection, 


FROM  A  LADY 
TO  A  GENTLEMAN 
COMPLAINING 
OF  HIS 
INDIFFERENCE 


SIR: 

However  light  you  may  make  of  promises,  yet  I  am  foolish  enough  to  consider  xhen> 
as  something  more  than  mere  trifles  ;  and  am  likewise  induced  to  believe  that  the  man 
who  voluntarily  breaks  a  promise,  will  not  pay  much  regard  to  an  oath  ;  and  if  so,  in 
what  light  must  I  consider  your  conduct  ?  Did  I  not  give  you  my  promise  to  be  yours, 
and  had  you  no  other  reason  for  soliciting  \:'uan  merely  to  gratify  your  own  vanity  ?  A 
brutal  gratification,  indeed,  to  triumph  over  the  weakness  of  a  woman  whose  greatest 
fault  was  that  she  loved  you.  I  say  loved  you,  for  it  was  in  consequence  of  that  passion 
I  first  consented  to  become  yours. 

Has  your  conduct,  sir,  been  consistent  with  my  submission,  or  your  solemn  profes 
sion?  Is  it  consistent  with  the  character  of  a  gentleman,  first  to  obtain  a  woman's 
consent,  and  afterwards  boast  that  he  had  discarded  her,  and  found  one  more  agreeable 
to  his  wishes  ?  Do  not  equivocate  ;  I  have  too  convincing  proofs  of  your  insincerity  ; 

I  saw  you  yesterday  walking  with  Miss ,  and  am  informed  that  you  have  proposed 

marriage  to  her. 

Whatever  you  may  think,  sir,  I  have  a  spirit  of  disdain,  and  even  of  resentment, 
equal  to  your  ingratitude,  and  can  treat  the  wretch  with  a  proper  indifference,  who  can 

make  so  slight  a  matter  of  the  most  solemn  promises.  Miss may  become  your 

w;fe  ;  but  the  superstructure  cannot  be  lasting  which  is  built  on  such  a  foundation.  I 
leave*  you  to  the  sting  of  your  own  conscience.  I  am  the  INJURED. 


A  GENTLEMAN 
TO  THE  LADY'S 
MOTHER 


DEAR  SIR  : 

Having  made  an  application  to  your  beloved  daughter  for  her  hand,  she  has  given 
her  consent,  provided  you  and  her  mother  will  condescend  to  sanction  it.  This,  I  flatter 
myself,  you  will  do,  my  circumstances,  family,  and  character,  being  well  known  to  you 
both.  I  shall  only  add,  that  my  happiness  or  misery  through  life  depends  upon  your 
reply  ;  and  that  I  will  make  any  settlement  upon  your  dear  daughter  which  you  may 
judge  necessary.  My  happiness  will  be  founded  on  the  promoting  of  hers,  with  the 
possession  of  your  esteem  and  approbation.  Entreating  you  to  give  a  favorable  reply,  I 
have  the  honor,  my  dear  -sir,  to  subscribe  myself,  Your  humble  servant, 


THE  FATHER'S 
ANSWER 


MY  DEAR  SIR  : 

In  reply  to  the  letter  you  did  me  the  honor  of  writing,  I  must  remark,  that  neither 
my  wife  nor  myself  have  ever  interfered  with  the  wishes  of  our  excellent  daughter  ;  her 
whole  conduct  being  governed  with  such  prudence  that  no  room  was  left  for  advice. 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS. 


105 


Your  affection  being  mutual,  we  have  only  to  observe  that  we  shall  be  highly  gratified 
in  giving  our  girl  to  you,  and  we  doubt  not  but  that  you  will  enjoy  as  much  happiness 
in  the  married  state  as  this  life  will  admit  of.  In  regard  to  ourselves,  you  may  be 
assured  that  you  possess  our  respect  and  affection  ;  were  this  not  the  case,  we  should 
not  so  readily  resign  to  your  protection  our  greatest  treasure. 

My  good  wife  entirely  coincides  with  what  I  have  said  ;  we  shall,  therefore,  expect 

to  see  you  on next,  when  everything  shall  be  arranged  for  your  union. 

I  am,  dear  sir, 

Yours,  very  affectionately, 


THE  GENTLEMAN 
10  THE  LADY, 
INCLOSING  HER 
FATHER'S  REPLY 


MY  DEAREST  HARRIET  : 

I  cannot  adequately  express  the  happiness  I  feel,  in  finding  that  my  letter  to  your 
respected  parents  has  been  crowned  with  success,  and  I  flatter  myself,  notwithstanding 
your  temporizing  with  my  feelings,  in  thus  reserving  your  avowal  of  a  reciprocal 
attachment,  that  you,  my  dear  girl,  will  not  be  unsusceptible  to  its  value,  but  condescend 
to  acknowledge  an  equal  happiness  with  myself  at  its  contents.  In  token  of  the  confi 
dence  with  which  your  dear  letter  has  inspired  me,  I  beg  leave  to  present  you  with  a 
trifle,  the  acceptance  of  which  will  be  highly  flattering  to  him  whose  image  it  portrays  ; 
and  permit  me  the  fond  pleasure  of  indulging  a  belief  that  my  lovely  Harriet  will  esteem 
the  trifle,  in  affectionate  remembrance  of  the  original. 

In  obedience  to  your  father's  command,  I  shall  wait  upon  him  at  the  appointed  time  ; 
till  then,  my  beloved  Harriet,  adieu.  Ever  your  devoted  admirer, 


A  WIDOW, 
IN  ANSWER 
TO  PROPOSALS 


DEAR  SIR  : 

I  take  the  first  opportunity  of  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  the  flattering  letter 
with  which  you  have  favored  me.  You  wish  to  know  whether  I  am  willing  to  enter 
again  into  the  marriage  state,  and  in  the  event  of  my  being  so,  whether  I  should  be 
adverse  to  admitting  you  in  the  quality  of  a  suitor.  I  assure  you,  sir,  I  feel  flattered 
by  the  latter  question  ;  and  as  to  the  former,  I  can  only  say  that  I  have  no  dislike  to 
entering  again  into  that  state.  But  our  acquaintance  is  at  present  imperfect,  and  we 
are  comparatively  strangers  to  each  other's  tastes  and  tempers.  I  need  scarcely  observe 
that  an  intimate  knowledge  of  such  matters  is  absolutely  requisite,  before  we  can 
decide  whether  we  are  fitted  for  enjoying  together  a  partnership  in  life.  Meanwhile,  I 
have  no  objection  to  allowing  such  freedom  of  acquaintance  as  shall  enable  us  both  to 
arrive  at  this  knowledge,  and  can  therefore  only  say,  in  conclusion,  that  the  commence 
ment  of  your  addresses  will  meet  with  no  obstacle  from, 

Dear  Sir, 

Yours  most  faithfully, 

To ,  Esq. 


IN  THE  NEGATfVE 


DEAR  SIR  : 

I  have  just  perused  the  flattering  letter  with  which  you  have  favored  me.  Of  late, 
whilst  enjoying  the  pleasure  of  your  company,  I  have  not  failed  to  observe  that  your 
behavior  towards  myself  has  been  more  than  ordinarily  attentive,  and  that  on  more 
than  one  occasion  you  have  rendered  yourself  of  essential  service  to  my  interests. 
Such  conduct  has  not  failed  in  attaining  my  favor  and  friendship,  but  has  not  had  the 
effect  of  inspiring  a  deeper  passion — a  passion  which  I  have  totally  renounced,  whether 
on  account  of  the  advance  of  years  (as  the  case  may  be),  or  of  attachment  to  the  memory 
of  my  late  husband,  it  is  immaterial  for  me  to  state.  Had  I  allowed  myself  to  suppose 
that  the  attentions  to  which  I  have  just  alluded  were  prompted  by  any  other  feeling 


io6 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


ft  LOVER'S 

QUARREL 


EXPLAINING 
AWAY  AN 
APPARENT 
BLIGHT 


but  that  of  simple  friendship,  I  should  certainly  have  endeavored  to  repress  them 
Hence  you  may  infer  that,  while  I  decline  the  honor  of  your  addresses,  I  still  remain, 
with  best  wishes  for  your  future  welfare, 

Dear  Sir, 

Your  sincere  friend, 
To ,  Ksq. 


MY  DEAR : 

It  is  with  pain  I  write  to  you  in  aught  that  can  seem  like  a  strain  of  reproach,  but 
I  confess  that  your  conduct  last  night  both  surprised  and  vexed  me.     Your  marked 

approbation  of  the  attentions  paid  to  you  by was  as  obvious  as  your  neglect  of 

myself.  Believe  me,  I  am  in  no  way  given  to  idle  jealousy — still  less  am  I  selfish  or 
unmanly  enough  to  wish  to  deprive  any  girl  on  whom  I  have  so  firmly  fixed  my  affec 
tions  of  any  pleasure  to  be  obtained  in  good  society.  But  my  peace  of  mind  would  be 
lost  forever  did  I  believe  that  I  have  lost  one  atom  of  your  affection. 

Pray  write,  and  assure  me  that  you  still  preserve  your  undivided  affection  for, 

Your  devoted  but  grieved, 

MY  DEAREST  — • : 

How  grieved  am  I  that  you  should  think  me  capable  of  wavering  in  my  affection 
towards  you,  and  inflicting  a  slight  upon  one  in  whom  my  whole  hopes  of  happiness 

are  centered  !    Believe  me,  my  attentions  to  Miss were  never  intended  for  anything 

more  than  common  courtes}'.  My  long  acquaintance  with  her  father,  and  my  knowledge 
of  her  amiable  character — as  Avell  as  the  circumstance  of  her  being  a  comparative  stranger 

to  the 's, — such  were  my  sole  reasons  for  paying  more  attention  to  her  than  I  might 

otherwise  have  done. 

Pray  rest  confident  in  the  belief  that  my  affection  for  you  is  as  unchanging  as  my 
regret  is  great  that  I  should  ever  have  given  you  cause  to  doubt  it,  and  believe  me, 

Dearest,  yours  ever  sincerely  and  devotedly, 


THE  DAUGHTER 


DEAR  SIR  : 

As  I  scorn  to  act  in  any  manner  that  may  bring  reproach  upon  myself  and  family, 
FATHER  ON  HIS     an&  hold  clandestine  proceedings  unbecoming  in  any  man  of  character,  I  take  the  liberty 
ATTACHMENT  TO  of  distinctly  avowing  my  love  for  your  daughter,  and  humbly  request  your  permission 
to  pay  her  my  addresses,  as  I  flatter  myself  my  family  and  expectancies  will  be  found 
not  unworthy  of  your  notice.     I  have  some  reason  to  imagine  that  I  am  not  altogether 
disagreeable  to  your  daughter  ;  but  I  assure  you,  honestly,  that  I  have  not  as  yet 
endeavored  to  win  her  affections,  far  fear  it  might  be  repugnant  to  a  father'^  will. 

I  am,  Sir, 

Your  most  obedient  servant, 


A  FATHER'S 
ANSWER  IN  THE 
NEGATIVE 


IN  THE 
AFFIRMATIVE 


DEAR  SIR  : 

I  make  no  doubt  of  the  truth  of  your  assertions,  relative  to  yourself,  character,  and 
connections  ;  but  as  I  think  my  daughter  too  young  to  enter  into  such  a  serious  engage- 1 
ment,  I  request  I  may  hear  no  more  of  your  passion  for  the  present ;  in  every  other 
respect,  I  am,  Sir, 

Your  most  obedient, 

DEAR  SIR  : 

There  is  so  much  candor  and  honor  apparent  in  3^our  letter,  that  to  withhold  my 
consent  would  be  both  ungenerous  and  unjust.  As  the  duty  of  a  father  demands,  I 
shall  first  make  some  necessary  inquiries,  assuring  you  that  I  would  never  oppose  my 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS. 

daughter's  choice,  except  I  had  some  very  just  reason  to  imagine  it  would  be  productive 
of  ill  consequences,  for  I  am  convinced  that  in  the  marriage  state,  happiness  consists  only 
in  reciprocal  affection .  You  may,  therefore,  depend  upon  hearing  from  me  in  a  few  days ; 
till  then  I  remain  Your  very  faithful  servant, 


Miss 

FROM  A  I  must  send  you  one  more  communication,  to  say  that  I  could  never  wish  to  secure 

LOVER        the  hand  of  a  lady  who  did  not  reciprocate  my  affection.     I  bow  to  your  decision,  and ' 
content  myself  with  the  reflection  that  ' '  there  are  as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as  ever  were 
caught, "  and  as  good,  I  believe,  as  the  one  who  disdains  to  nibble  my  hook.     While  my 
attentions  have  been  sincere,  I  am  not  likely  to  die  of  disappointment,  and  do  not  intend 
to  give  any  occasion  for  such  an  epitaph  on  my  tombstone  as  :     Hete  lies  a  jilted  lover. 

Very  truly  yours. 


FORMS  FOB  WEDDING  CARDS  AND  INVITATIONS. 


.    /Knt'. 


vv  .  , 


&  es<j-' 


s&s 


U 


io8 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 


r\ 


&  '  e 


u- 


G,  . 
e    ' 


§•. 


.ft 


60 


I 


A  COQUETTISH   MAIDEN. 
What  will  the  Answer  be?     Yes  or  No? 


PROPER  FORMS  FOR  LETTERS. 


109 


en 


dr 


;  /a  9  , 


WEDDING  ANNIVERSARIES. 

It  is  the  custom  in  this  country  to  celebrate  the  anniversaries  of  happy 
marriages  at  certain  periods.     These  are — 

The  First  Anniversary,  called  the  Cotton  Wedding. 


Second 

Third 

Fifth 

Seventh 

Tenth 

Twelfth 

Fifteenth 

Twentieth 

Twenty-fifth 

Thirtieth 

Fortieth 

Fiftieth 

Seventy-fifth 


Paper 
Leather  " 
Wooden  '* 
Woollen  " 
Tin  «• 

Silk  and  Fine  Linen  Wedding. 
Crystal  " 

China  •• 

Silver  " 

Pearl  « 

Ruby  " 

Golden  " 

Diamond  " 


Invitations  are  sent  to  friends  whose  company  you  desire  upon  such  occa 
sions.     It  is  well  to  be  explicit,  and  by  your  invitation  give  your  friends  tc 


RULES  OF  ETIQUETTE  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS. 

understand  clearly  what  is  expected  of  them.  If  nothing  is  said  about  presents 
they  will  conclude  that  these  will  be  acceptable.  If  these  are  not  desired,  youi 
invitation  should  state  it.  The  following  is  a  proper  form  : — 


ana  i^wfa    &. 


at 


ff 


tna 


The  above  form  can  be  varied  to  suit  the 
anniversary.  The  invitation  to  a  wooden 
wedding  should  be  printed  on  a  thin  sheet  of 
wood ;  to  a  tin  wedding,  on  a  sheet  of  tin 
foil  paper ;  to  a  crystal  wedding,  on  cards 
with  a  thin  glass  finish  ;  to  a  china  wedding, 
on  paper  with  a  dead-white  surface  resem 
bling  the  surface  of  china-ware ;  to  a  silver 


wedding,  upon  white  paper  in  silvered  letters; 
to  a  golden  wedding,  upon  heavy  white  or 
cream-colored  paper  in  gilt  letters  ;  to  a  dia 
mond  wedding,  on  the  heaviest  and  finest 
paper.  While  the  envelopes  cannot  in  every 
instance  be  of  the  same  material  as  that  on 
which  the  invitation  is  printed,  they  should 
as  nearly  as  possible  correspond. 


BOOK  II. 


Courtship,  Marriage  and  Domestic  Life 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Man  and  Woman,  or  Suitable  Rules 
for  Love-Making. 


AN  was  made  for  woman,  and  woman 
equally  for  man.  How  shall  they 
treat  each  other?  How  shall  they 
come  to  understand  their  mutual  relations 
and  duties?  It  is  lofty  work  to  write  upon 
this  subject  what  ought  to  be  written.  Mis 
takes,  fatal  blunders,  hearts  and  lives  wrecked, 
homes  turned  into  bear-gardens,  tears,  mis 
eries  blasted  hopes,  awful  tragedies — can  you 
name  the  one  most  prolific  cause  of  all  these? 

If  our  young  people  were  taught  what 
they  ought  to  know — if  it  were  told  them 
from  infancy  up — if  it  were  drilled  into 
them  and  they  were  made  to  understand 
what  now  is  all  a  mystery  to  them — a  dark, 
vague,  unriddled  mystery — hearts  would  be 
happier,  homes  would  be  brighter,  lives 
would  be  worth  living  and  the  world  would 
be  better. 

This  is  now  the  matter — matter  grave  and 
berious  enough — which  we  have  in  hand. 
There  are  gems  of  wisdom  founded  on  health, 
morality,  happiness,  which  should  be  put 
within  reach  of  every  household  in  our  whole 
broad  land.  It  is  a  most  important,  yet 


neglected  subject.  People  are  squeamish, 
cursed  with  mock  modesty,  ashamed  to  speak 
with  their  lips  what  their  Creator  spoke 
through  their  own  minds  and  bodies  when 
he  formed  them.  It  is  time  such  nonsense — 
nonsense  shall  we  say  ? — rather  say  it  is  time 
such  fatal  folly  were  withered  and  cursed  by 
the  sober  common  sense  and  moral  duty  of 
universal  society. 

Professor  O.  S.  Fowler,  the  eminent 
lecturer,  who  made  the  subjects  of  love., 
courtship,  marriage  and  domestic  life  his 
study  for  half  a  century,  shall  be  permitted  to 
instruct,  warn,  inspire,  direct  and  benefit 
those  who  peruse  the  pages  of  this  practical 
work.  Here  is  what  he  says : 

Courtship !  Its  theme,  how  delightful ! 
Its  memories  and  associations,  how  charm 
ing  !  Its  luxuries  the  most  luxurious  prof 
fered  to  mortals !  Its  results  how  far  reach' 
ing,  and  momentous !  No  mere  lover's  fleet 
ing  bauble,  but  life's  very  greatest  work  1 
None  are  equally  portentous,  for  good  and 
evil. 

God's  provisions  for  man's  happiness  are 

in 


112 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


boundless  and  endless.  How  great  are  the 
pleasures  of  sight,  motion,  breathing !  How 
much  greater  those  of  mind  !  Yet  a  right 
Love  surpasses  them  all ;  and  can  render  us 
all  happier  than  our  utmost  imaginations  can 
depict  ;  and  a  wrong  more  miserable. 
Though  it  is  crdained  to  create  offspring, 
not  for  pastime,  yet  as  a  luxury  it  has  no 
peer,  but  stands  first ;  so  that  mere  self-interest 
commands  all  to  learn  and  fulfil  its  right 
conditions,  and  avoid  its  wrong. 

Amazing  Ignorance. 

Right  love-making  is  more  important  than 
right  selection  ;  because  it  affects  conjugal 
life  far  the  most.  Men  and  women  need 
knowledge  concerning  it  more  than  touch 
ing  anything  else.  Their  fatal  errors  show 
their  almost  universal  ignorance  concerning 
it.  That  most  married  discords  originate  in 
wrong  love-making  instead  of  selection,  is 
proved  by  Love  usually  declining;  while 
adaptation  remains  the  same. 

Right  courtship  will  harmonize  natural 
discordants,  much  more  concordants,  still 
more  those  already  in  Love ;  which  only 
some  serious  causes  can  rupture.  The  whole 
power  of  this  Love  element  is  enlisted  in  its 
perpetuity,  as  are  all  the  self-interests  of  both. 
As  Nature's  health  provisions  are  so  perfect 
that  only  its  great  and  long-continued  out 
rage  can  break  it ;  so  her  conjugal  are  so 
numerous  and  perfect  that  but  for  outrageous 
violations  of  her  love  laws  all  who  once 
begin  can  and  will  grow  more  and  more 
affectionate  and  happy  every  day. 

Any  man  who  can  begin  to  elicit  any 
.woman's  Love,  can  perfectly  infatuate  her 
more  and  more,  solely  by  courting  her  right ; 
and  all  women  who  once  start  a  man's  Love 
— no  very  difficult  achievement — can  get  out 
of  him,  and  do  with  him,  anything  possible 
she  pleases.  The  charming  and  fascinating- 


power  of  serpents  over  birds  is  as  nothing 
compared  with  that  a  well-sexed  wornar»  can 
wield  over  a  well-sexed  man,  and  he  over 
her.  Ladies,  recall  your  Love  hey-day. 
You  had  your  lover  perfectly  spell-bound. 
He  literally  knew  not  what  he  did  or  would 
do.  With  what  alacrity  he  sprang  to  in 
dulge  your  every  wish,  at  whatever  cost,  and 
do  exactly  as  you  desired  !  If  you  had  only 
courted  him  just  right,  he  would  have  con 
tinued  to  grow  still  more  so  till  now.  This 
is  equally  true  of  a  man's  power  over  every 
woman  who  once  begins  to  love  him.  What 
would  you  give  to  again  wield  that  same 
bewitching  wand? 

Sexual  Depravity. 

Parents  who  teach  their  children  to  court 
right,  need  have  no  fears  for  their  virtue. 
Forestalling  that  monster  vice,  sexual  depra 
vity,  throughout  all  its  forms,  is  just  as  easy 
as  courting  right ;  which  is  just  as  easy  as 
breathing.  Knowing  what  is  due  between 
lovers  is  its  chief  means.  Young  folks  in 
tend  no  wrong,  but  by  following  current 
customs  embitter  and  rupture  each  other'* 
Love  ;  which  drives  them  into  sensualities,  ii 
it  does  not  crucify  their  gender.  We  beg 
special  attention  to  this  declaration,  and  its 
vouchers. 

The  love-making  art  which  can  effect  all 
this  and  much  more,  thus  becomes  well 
worth  knowing ;  yet  is  one  of  "  the  lost 
arts.  "  Since  the  art  of  gallantry  is  thus 
valuable,  how  much  more  that  of  Love- 
making  ? — only  its  perfection. 

Disseminating  scientific  knowledge  con 
cerning  this  much-joked-about  subject  of 
Love-making,  thus  becomes  a  work  of  phil 
anthropy  and  social  reform  far  transcending 
all  others.  Yet  who  ever  teaches  or  learns 
anything  concerning  it?  What  wonder  that 
nearly  all  thus  ignorantly  spoil  their  mar 
riage  ?  Why  not  give  and  take  lessons  dn 


MAN  AND  WOMAN,  OR  SENSIBLE  RULES  FOR  LOVE-MAKING       113 


ronrtship  as  much  as  in  music,  or  grammar? 
Is  it  less  important  ?  Parents  should  teach 
dieir  children  early,  and  those  taught  "  by 
sad  experience"  should  instruct  those  not 
yet  maritally  spoiled. 

But  intuition,  our  own  selfhood,  is  Nature's 
highest  teacher,  and  infallible ;  and  tells  all, 
by  her  "  still,  small  voice  within,  "  whether 
and  just  wherein  they  are  making  Love 
right  or  wrong.  Every  false  step  forewarns 
all  against  itself ;  and  great  is  their  fall  who 
stumble.  Courtship  has  its  own  inherent 
consciousness,  which  must  be  kept  inviolate. 
Adapt  Yourself  to  tlie  One  You  Would  Win. 

Then  throw  yourself,  O  courting  youth, 
upon  your  own  interior  sense  of  propriety 
diid  right,  as  to  both  the  beginning  and  con 
ducting  of  courtship,  after  learning  all  you 
•can  from  these  pages,  and  have  no  fears  as 
to  results,  but  quietly  bide  them,  in  the  most 
perfect  assurance  of  their  happy  eventuality  1 

"  What  can  I  do  or  omit  to  advance  my 
suit?  prevent  dismissal?  make  my  very 
best  impression?  guarantee  acceptance? 
touch  my  idol's  heart  ?  court  just  right  ?  " 
This  is  what  all  true  courters  say. 

Cultivate  and  manifest  whatever  qualities 
you  would  awaken.  You  inspire  in  the  one 
you  court  the  precise  feeling  and  traits  you 
yourself  experience.  This  law  effects  this 
/esult.  Every  faculty  in  either  awakens  it 
self  in  the  other.  This  is  just  as  sure  as 
gravity  itself.  Hence  your  success  must 
come  from  within,  depends  upon  yourself, 
not  the  one  courted. 

Study  the  specialties,  likes  and  dislikes  in 
particular,  of  the  one  courted,  and  humor 
and  adapt  yourself  to  them. 

Be  extra  careful  not  to  prejudice  him  or 
frer  against  you  by  awakening  any  faculty  in 
reverse.  Thus  whatever  rouses  the  other's 
resistance  against  you,  antagonizes  all  the 
other  faculties,  and  proportionally  turns 
8 


Love  for  you  into  hatred.  Whatevel 
wounds  ambition  reverses  all  the  other  feel- 
ings,  to  your  injury ;  what  delights  it,  turns 
them  in  your  favor.  All  the  faculties  create, 
and  their  action  constitutes  human  nature  ; 
which  lovers  will  do  right  well  to  study. 
To  give  a  iew  illustrations. 

An  elderly  man  with  points  in  his  favor, 
having  selected  a  woman  eighteen  years 
younger,  but  most  intelligent  and  feminine, 
had  two  young  rivals,  each  having  more 
points  in  theirs,  and  came  to  his  final  test 
She  thought  much  of  having  plenty  of 
money.  They  saw  they  could  "  cnt  him  out " 
by  showing  her  that  he  was  poor ;  she  till 
then  thinking  his  means  ample.  All  four 
met  around  her  table,  and  proved  his  poverty. 
His  rivals  retired,  sure  that  they  had  made 
u  his  cake  dough, "  leaving  him  with  her. 
It  was  his  turning-point.  He  addressed  him 
self  right  to  her  affections,  saying  little  about 
money  matters,  but  protesting  an  amount  of 
devotion  for  her  to  which  she  knew  they 
were  strangers;  and  left  his  suit  right  on 
this  one  point ;  adding : 

"  You  know  I  can  make  money ;  know 
how  intensely  I  esteem,  admire,  idolize,  and 
love  you.  Will  not  my  admitted  greater  af 
fection,  with  my  earnings,  do  more  for  you 
than  they  with  more  money,  but  less  Love  ?  " 

Her  clear  head  saw  the  point.  Her  heart 
melted  into  his.  She  said  "  yes. "  He 
triumphed  by  this  affectional  spirit  alone 
over  their  much  greater  availability. 

Manifesting  the  domestic  affections  and 
virtues,  a  warm,  gushing  friendly  nature, 
fondness  for  children  and  home,  inspires  a 
man's  Love  most  of  all,  while  evincing 
talents  by  a  man  peculiarly  enamors  woman. 

In  short,  the  Love-inspiring  art  consists  in 
manifesting  lovable  qualities,  particularly 
the  domestic,  those  which  promote  Lovels 
great  end,  perfect  children. 


114 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


Securing  the  benediction  of  all  four  parents 
*"s  certainly  most  desirable.  Assenting  to 
their  courting,  implies  acquiescence  in  their 
marriage ;  yet  a  formal  one  is  desirable,  and 
by  letter  its  best  form.  If  either  parent 
objects,  both  lovers  should  try  all  possible 
means  to  win  them  over  ;  for  their  blessing 
and  aid  are  most  desirable,  and  antagonism 
injurious.  You  cannot  aiford  to  array  your 
proposed  family  against  their  established  one, 
if  this  can  be  avoided.  Indeed,  getting  the 
mother  in  Love  may  be  a  first  step  for  obtain 
ing  her  daughter ;  which  her  good-will 
greatly  promotes,  but  ill,  retards.  At  least, 
asking  is  much  more  politic  than  demand 
ing.  Establishing  friendly  relations  all 
around  is  worth  much  patient  assiduity  and 
perseverance,,  Both  should  be  loath  to  defy 
or  provoke  the  antagonism  of  either. 

Fremont  and  Jessie. 

Yet  some  parents  deserve  defiance.  Whilst 
affectionate  intelligent  ones  merit  only  filial 
obedience,  yet  those  prejudiced  for  their  own 
child  and  against  the  one  chosen,  especially 
who  storm,  blurt,  and  command  a  daughter 
to  marry  here  and  not  there,  deserve  defiance, 
and  to  have  Fremont's  bold  card  played 
against  them.  He  loves  and  is  loved  by 
Jessie.  Benton,  enraged,  forbids  Fremont 
his  house,  and  locks  Jessie  up  ;  who  escapes, 
elopes,  marries,  and  they  return  ;  when  Ben- 
ton,  finding  himself  fairly  out-generalled, 
makes  friends,  and  backs  Fremont.  Those 
old  enough  to  love  and  marry  are  old  enough 
to  decide  to  whom.  Their  parents'  rights 
are  only  advisory  ;  their  own  supreme. 

Our  right  to  choose  our  own  conjugal  and 
'parental  partner  is  more  sacred  and  inalien 
able  than  any  other  human  right  whatever, 
and  cannot  be  taken  away. 

Your  duty  to  yourself  and  each  other  is 
paramount  to  parental  authority,  and  all  else. 
Those  united  to  each  other  in  a  genuine  love 


sympathy  are  therefore  divinely  united  :  and, 
"  Whom  God  hath  joined  together,  let  not 
man  put  asunder  ; "  much  less  adverse  cir 
cumstances.  You  now  belong  not  to  parents 
but  to  yourselves  and  each  to  the  other.  Ful 
filling  this  Divine  mandate  to  love  each  other, 
and  resisting  all  interference  as  you  would 
attempts  on  your  life,  rewards  gloriously; 
while  letting  others  break  up  a  true  Love, 
punishes  terribly,  without  exception.  Nature 
will  neither  be  molested  nor  violated  without 
punishing.  By  the  sacredness  of  Love  and 
the  evils  of  its  violation  you  are  solemnly 
bound,  each  to  yourself  and  the  other,  to 
consummate  it. 

"Love  Laughs  at  Locksmiths. " 

Let  neither  adverse  surroundings,  nor  tem 
per,  nor  wounded  pride,  nor  fear  of  want,  nor 
persecution,  nothing  but  utter  impossibilities, 
prevent  your  marriage ;  else  you  are  a  traitor 
to  your  highest  natural  obligations,  and  will 
surely  spoil  yourself  and  each  other.  Defy 
all  difficulties,  even  dangers.  If  you  must 
bide  your  time,  watch  it.  Commune  with 
each  other  in  spite  of  fate.  Elope  only  as 
your  last  resort ;  yet  when  all  other  means 
fail,  if  she  will  jump  into  your  open  arms, 
catch  her,  and,  Priam  like,  scale  all  inter 
vening  battlements.  Of  course  she  must  be 
willing,  glad,  to  "  forsake  father  and  mother, 
and  cleave  to  you  ;  "  yet  if  thus  willing, 
woe  to  both  if  you  do  not  thus  carry  her 
off  "  a  willing  captive.  "  Be  wise,  but  de 
termined.  Plan  well,  and  execute  boldly. 
Have  no  "faint  hearts"  here,  but  courage. 
Strong  wills  find  sure  ways,  and  God  speed 
you. 

Yet  eloping  for  notoriety  is  despicable. 
That  girl  was  silly  who  was  sorry  her  father 
gave  consent,  "  because  she  could  not  then 
get  into  the  papers  by  a  romantic  elope 
ment  " 


MAN  AND  WOMAN,  OR  SENSIBLE  RULES  FOR  LOVE-MAKING.       125 


A  gifted  law  student  became  thoroughly 
enamored  with  an  excellent  young  lady  at 
tending  the  same  school,  who  reciprocated 
his  affection  ;  each  more  than  satisfied  with, 
and  both  intending  to  niarryy  each  other. 
Yet  her  proud  mother  objected,  that  "  he  was 
not  good  enough  for  her  daughter. "  Though 
the  girl  thought  differently,  and  had  done 
nothing  to  lessen  his  Love,  yet  his  pride 
made  him  ignore  her  altogether.  He  met 
and  passed  her  daily  without  recognition, 
till  years  afterwards  his  love  conquered  pride, 
and  he  re-proffered  his  hand ;  but  she  aad 
just  engaged  herself  to  another,  while  her 
heart  still  remained  true  to  him.  A  man 
pre-eminently  talented  and  moral,  a  woman 
most  lovely  and  devoted,  and  both  perfectly 
adapted  to  each  other,  were  spoiled  because 
her  mother's  prizing  her  daughter  highest 
maddened  him.  For  shame !  He  did  not 
take  a  lawyer's  view  of  that  question.  He 
should  have  cherished  her  Love,  snapped  his 
finger  at  all  others,  and  let  nothing  in  the 
heavens  above  or  earth  beneath  interrupt  it. 

Marriage  Spoiled. 

Relations,  you  shall  not  interfere,  where 
even  parents  may  not.  Make  your  own 
matches,  and  let  others  make  theirs  ;  especi 
ally  if  you  have  bungled  your  own.  One 
such  bungle  is  one  too  many. 

The  parties  are  betrothed.  Their  marriage 
is  "  fore-ordained "  by  themselves,  its  only 
rightful  umpires,  which  all  right-minded  out 
siders  will  try  to  promote,  not  prevent.  How 
despicable  to  separate  husbands  and  wives ! 
Yet  is  not  parting  those  married  by  a  Love- 
spirit,  equally  so?  Its  mere  legal  form  can 
not  increase  its  validity.  Marriage  is  a  divine 
institution,  and  consists  in  their  own  personal 
betrothal.  Hence  breaking  up  a  true  Love- 
nnion  before  its  legal  consummation,  is  just 
as  bad  as  parting  loving  husband  and  wife  ; 


which  is  monstrous.     All  lovers  who  allow 
it  are  its  wicked  partakers. 

Marrying   in  Haste. 

If  anything  specially  requires  the  early 
consummation  of  marriage,  hasten  it;  yet 
cementing  the  affections  is  the  great  work  in 
hand,  which  too  close  intimacy  at  first  rather 
hinders  than  helps.  As  whatever  grows  has 
its  natural  period  for  maturing,  so  has  Love. 
At  engagement  you  have  merely  selected,  so 
that  your  familiarity  should  be  only  intellec 
tual,  not  affectional.  You  are  yet  more  ac 
quaintances  than  companions.  As  sun 
changes  from  midnight  darkness  into  noon 
day  brilliancy,  and  heats,  lights  up,  and 
warms  gradually,  and  as  summer  "  lingers 
in  the  lap  of  spring ; "  so  marriage  should 
dally  in  the  lap  of  courtship.  Nature's 
adolescence  of  Love  should  never  be  crowded 
into  a  premature  marriage.  The  more  per 
sonal,  the  more  impatient  it  is  ;  yet  to  estab 
lish  its  Platonic  aspect  takes  more  time  than 
is  usually  given  it ;  so  that  undue  haste  puts 
it  upon  the  carnal  plane,  which  soon  cloys, 
then  disgusts. 

Coyness  and  modesty  always  accompany 
female  Love,  which  involuntarily  shrink 
from  close  masculine  contact  until  its  mental 
phase  is  sufficiently  developed  to  overrule  the 
antagonistic  intimacies  of  marriage. 

Besides,  why  curtail  the  luxuries  of  court 
ship  ?  Should  haste  to  enjoy  the  luscious- 
ness  of  summer  engulf  the  delights  of  spring? 
The  pleasures  of  courtship  are  unsurpassed 
throughout  life,  and  quite  too  great  to  be 
curtailed  by  hurrying  marriage.  And  enhano 
ing  or  diminishing  them  redoubles  or  cur« 
tails  those  of  marriage  a  hundred-fold  more. 
A  happy  courtship  promotes  conjugal  felicity 
more  than  anything  else  whatever.  A  neg- 
ress,  asked  why  she  didn't  marry,  since  she 
had  so  many  making  Love  to  her,  replied  • 


116 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFF, 


"  Because  being  courted  is  too  great  a 
luxury  to  be  spoilt  by  marrying.  " 

No  man  should  wait  to  make  his  pile. 
Two  must  acquire  a  competence  conjointly, 
in  order  fully  to  really  enjoy  it  together. 
This  alone  can  give  full  zest  to  whatever 
pleasures  it  produces. 

The  Proposal,  Acceptance,  and  Vow. 

A  formal  proffer  of  marriage  naturally 
follows  a  man's  selection  and  decision  as  to 
&  horn  he  will  marry.  Consent  to  canvass 
their  mutual  adaptations  implies  consent  to 
marry,  if  all  is  found  satisfactory ;  yet  a  final 
test  and  consummation  now  become  neces 
sary,  both  to  bring  this  whole  matter  to  a 
focus,  and  allow  both  to  state,  and  obviate  or 
waive,  those  objections  which  must  needs 
exist  on  both  sides  ;  including  any  improve 
ments  possible  in  either.  The  best  time  to 
state  and  waive  or  remove  all  objections, 
seeming  and  real,  not  already  adjusted,  is  at 
his  proposal,  and  her  acceptance.  A  verbal 
yitill  do,  but  a  written  is  much  better,  by 
facilitating  future  reference.  A  long  future 
awaits  their  marriage ;  hence  committing 
this  its  initial  point  to  writing,  so  that  both 
can  look  back  to  it,  is  most  desirable.  And 
he  can  propose,  and  she  accept,  much  better 
when  alone,  and  they  have  all  their  faculties 
under  full  control,  than  verbally,  perhaps 
when  excited.  Those  same  primal  reasons 
for  reducing  all  other  contracts  to  writing 
obtain  doubly  in  reference  to  marriage. 

You  who  fear  awkwardness  on  paper,  re 
member  that  true  human  nature  always  ap 
pears  well,  even  when  poorly  dressed.  A 
diamond  is  no  less  brilliant  because  set  in 
clay.  Mode  is  nothing,  reality  everything. 
All  needed  to  appear  well  is  to  fee.'  tight,  and 
express  naturally  what  is  felt.  Saying  plain 
ly  what  you  have  to  say,  is  all  required.  An 
unreserved  tender,  or  dependent  conditions 
plainly  stated,  is  sufficient. 


The  acceptance  or  rejec'.lon  should  also  be 
unequivocal,  or  any  contingencies  stated,  and 
waived  if  minor,  but  if  they  can  neither  be 
obviated  nor  compromised,  should  terminate 
their  relations,  that  both  may  look  elsewhere. 
If  any  bones  of  contention  exisf,  now  is  the 
time  to  inter  them  finally,  and  to  take  the 
initiatory  steps  for  perfecting  both  in  each 
other's  eyes.  Bear  in  mind  that  as  yet  your 
relations  are  still  those  of  business  merely, 
because  neither  has  acquired  or  conceded  any 
right  to  love  or  be  loved.  Without  pretend- 
ing  to  give  model  letters  of  proposal,  accep 
tance,  or  rejection,  because  varying  circum 
stances  will  vary  each  ad  infinitum,  the  fol» 
lowing  may  serve  as  samples  from  which  to 
work. 

"  MUCH  ESTEEMED  FRIEND  :  As  we  have 
agreed  to  canvass  our  mutual  adaptations  for 
marriage,  and  my  own  mind  is  fully  made 
up,  a  final  decision  now  becomes  necessary. 

"  What  I  have  learned  of  and  from  you 
confirms  that  high  opinion  of  you  which 
prompted  my  selection  of  you,  and  inspires 
a  desire  to  consummate  it.  Your  pleasing 
manner  and  mode  of  saying  and  doing  things ; 
your  intelligence,  taste,  prudence,  kindness, 
and  many  other  excellencies,  inspire  my 
highest  admiration. 

"  Will  you  let  me  love  what  I  so  much 
admire? 

"But  my  affections  are  sacred.  I  can  bestow 
them  only  on  one  who  reciprocates  them ; 
will  bestow  them  upon  you,  if  you  will  bestovr 
yours  on  me  ;  not  otherwise  ;  for  only  mutual 
love  can  render  either  happy.  I  can  and  will 
love  you  alone,  with  all  my  heart,  provided 
you  can  and  will  love  only  me,  with  all  of 
yours.  Do  you  accord  me  this  privilege,  on 
this  condition,  for  life,  forever?  I  crave 
to  make  you  my  wife ;  to  live  with  and  for 
you,  and  proffer  you  my  whole  being,  with 
honest,  assidous  toil,  fidelity  to  business,  what 


MAN  AND  WOMAN,  OR  SENSIBLE  RULES  FOR  LOVE-MAKING,      n; 


talents  I  possess,  and  all  I  can  do  to  contri 
bute  to  your  creature  comforts.  Do  you  ac 
cord  me  this  privilege,  on  this  condition? 
May  I  enshrine  you  as  queen  of  my  life  ? 

"  Say  wherein  you  find  me  faulty,  or 
capable  of  improvement  in  your  eyes,  and  I 
will  do  my  utmost,  consistently  with  my 
conscience,  to  render  myself  worthy  and  ac 
ceptable  to  you. 

"  I  wish  some  things  were  different  in 
you — that  you  had  better  health,  arose  earlier, 
were  less  impulsive,  knew  more  about  keep 
ing  house,  etc. ;  yet  these  minor  matters  sink 
into  insignificance  in  comparison  with  your 
many  excellences,  and  especially  that  whole- 
souled  affection  obviously  inherent  in  you. 

"  Deliberate  fully,  for  this  is  a  life  affair, 
and  if,  in  order  to  decide  judiciously,  you 

require  to  know  more  of  me,  ask  me,  or 

and .     Please  reply  as  soon  as  you  can 

well  decide. 

"  Decline  unless  you  accept  cordially,  and 
can  love  me  truly  and  wholly ;  but  if  you 
can  and  will  reciprocate  my  proffered  affec 
tion,  say  yes,  and  indicate  your  own  time 
and  mode  of  our  marriage.  Meanwhile, 
with  the  highest  regards,  I  am,  and  hope 
ever  to  remain, 

Yours  truly,  A.  B." 

A  true  woman  could  give  a  better  answer 
than  the  following,  which  does  not  claim  to 
be  a  model.  It  is  hardly  time  yet  for  a 
gushing  love-letter,  or  we  would,  not  profane 
this  sacred  subject  by  making  the  attempt ; 
yet  should  like  to  receive  one  in  spirit  some 
what  as  follows : 

"DEAR  SIR  :  Your  proffer  of  your  hand 
and  heart  in  marriage  has  been  duly  received, 
and  its  important  contents  fully  considered. 

''I  accept  your  offer:  and  on  its  only 
condition,  that  I  reciprocate  your  Love^ 
which  I  do  completely ;  and  hereby  both 
offer  my  own  hand  and  heart  in  return,  and 


consecrate  my  entire  being,  soul  and  body, 
all  I  am  and  can  become,  to  you  alone ;  both 
according  you  the  'privilege'  you  crave  of 
loving  me,  and  *  craving '  a  like  one  in  re 
turn. 

"  Thank  Heaven  that  this  matter  is  settled; 
that  you  are  in  very  deed  mine,  while  I  am 
yours,  to  love  and  be  loved  by,  live  and  be 
lived  with  and  for ;  and  that  my  gushing 
affections  have  a  final  resting-place  on  one 
every  way  so  worthy  of  the  fullest  reciprocal 
sympathy  and  trust 

"  The  preliminaries  of  our  marriage  we 
will  arrange  whenever  we  meet,  which  I  hope 
may  be  soon.  But  whether  sooner  or  later, 
or  you  are  present  or  absent,  I  now  consider 
myself  as  wholly  yours,  and  you  all  mine ; 
and  both  give  and  take  the  fullest  privilege 
of  cherishing  and  expressing  for  you  that 
whole-souled  Love  I  find  even  now  gushing 
up  and  calling  for  expression.  Fondly  hop 
ing  to  hear  from  and  see  you  soon  and  often, 
I  remain  wholly  yours  forever, 

CD." 


The  vow  and  its  tangible  witnesses  come 
next  All  agreements  require  to  be  attested ; 
and  this  as  much  more  than  others  as  it  is 
the  most  obligatory.  Both  need  its  unequiv 
ocal  and  mutual  mementos,  to  be  cherished 
for  all  time  to  come  as  its  perpetual  wit 
nesses.  This  vow  of  each  to  the  other  can 
neither  be  made  too  strong,  nor  held  too 
sacred.  If  calling  God  to  witness  win 
strengthen  your  mutual  adjuration,  swear  by 
Him  and  His  throne,  or  by  whatever  else 
will  render  it  inviolable,  and  commit  it  to 
writing,  each  transcribing  a  copy  for  the 
other  as  your  most  sacred  relics,  to  be  en- 
shrined  in  your  "  holy  of  holies.  " 

Two  witnesses  are  required,  one  for  each; 
A  ring  for  her  and  locket  for  him,  contain 
ing  the  likeness  of  both,  as  always  showing 


COURTSHIP.  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


how  they  now  look,  or  any  keepsake  both 
may  select,  more  or  less  valuable,  to  be 
handed  down  to  their  posterity,  will  answer. 
Getting  ready  to  start  out  together  on 
your  life  journey,  should  now  engross  both. 
Though  virtually  married,  you  are  still  only 
friends,  and  should  now  begin  to  make  Love  ; 
though  its  full  period  has  not  yet  quite  ar 
rived.  Giving  up  to  nothing  else,  like  eat 
ing  honey  alone,  might  cloy.  Its  gradual 
incipiency  favors  its  permanent  continuance. 
Kxcessive  growth,  bursts.  Greed  soon  cloys. 
Wholesome  Regulations. 

Your  mode  of  conducting  ycur  future 
affairs  should  now  be  arranged.  Though 
implied  in  selection,  yet  it  must  be  specified 
in  detail.  Both  should  arrange  your  mar 
riage  relations  ;  say  what  each  desires  to  do, 
and  have  done ;  and  draw  out  a  definite  out 
line  plan  of  the  various  positions  you  desire 
to  maintain  towards  each  other.  Your 
future  home  must  be  discussed:  whether 
you  will  board,  or  live  in  your  own  house, 
rented,  or  owned,  or  built,  and  after  what 
pattern ;  or  with  either  or  which  of  your 
parents.  And  it  is  vastly  important  that 
wives  determine  most  as  to  their  domiciles ; 
Iheir  internal  arrangements,  rooms,  furniture, 
management;  respecting  which  they  are 
consulted  quite  too  little,  yet  cannot  well  be 
loo  much. 

Family  rules,  as  well  as  national,  state, 
,orporate,  financial,  must  be  'established. 
Chey  are  most  needed,  yet  least  practiced  in 
marriage.  Without  them,  all  must  be  chaot 
ic.  Ignoring  them  is  a  great  but  common 
marital  error.  The  Friends  wisely  make 
family  method  cardinal. 

Your  general  treatment  of  each  other  now 
especially  requires  to  be  mutually  agreed 
upon.  Each  should  say,  "  I  should  like  to 
treat  and  be  treated  by,  you  thus,  but  not  so  ; 
and  let  you  do  this  but  not  that ; "  and  both 


mutually  agree  on  a  thousand  like  minoi 
points,  better  definitely  arranged  at  first  than 
left  for  future  contention  ;  each  making  re- 
quisitions,  conceding  privileges,  and  stipulat 
ing  for  any  fancies,  idols,  or  "  reserved 
rights.  " 

Differences  must  needs  arise,  which  cannoi 
be  adjusted  too  soon.  Those  constitutionally 
inherent  in  each  should  be  adjusted  in  Love's 
early  stages ;  it  matters  less  how,  than 
whether  to  your  mutual  satisfaction.  Or  if 
this  is  impossible,  "  agree  to  disagree  ; " 
but  .settle  on  something. 

A  concessionary  spirit  is  indispensable, 
and  inheres  in  love.  Neither  should  insist, 
but  both  concede,  in  all  things;  each  mak 
ing,  not  demanding  sacrifices.  The  one  who 
loves  most  will  yield  to  oblige  most  What 
course  will  make  both  happiest  should  over 
rule  all  your  mutual  relations. 
Important  Trifles. 

Write  down  and  file  all.  Your  present 
decisions,  subject  to  mutual  changes  and 
amendments,  will  become  more  and  more 
important  for  future  reference,  as  time  rolls 
on,  by  enabling  each  to  correct  both ;  for 
our  own  changes  make  us  think  others  have 
changed.  A  mutual  diary  is  desirable ;  for 
incidents  now  seemingly  trivial,  may  yet  be 
come  important. 

See  or  correspond  with  each  other  often 
Love  will  not  bear  neglect  Nothing  kills 
it  equally.  In  this  it  is  most  exacting.  It 
will  not,  should  not,  be  second  in  anything. 
"First  or  nothing,"  is  its  motto.  Meet  as 
often  as  possible.  After  its  fires  have  once 
been  lit,  they  must  be  perpetually  resupplied 
with  their  natural  fuel ;  else  they  die  down, 
go  out,  or  go  elsewhere ;  and  are  harder  to 
rekindle  than  to  light  at  first 

A  splendid  young  man,  son  of  one  of  New 
England's  most  talented  and  pious  divines, 
endowed  with  one  of  the  very  best  of  organ- 


MAN  AND  WOMAN,  OR  SENSIBLE  RULES  FOR  LOVE-MAKING.      119 


isms,  physical  and  phrenological,  having 
selected  his  mate,  and  plighted  their  mutual 
vows,  being  the  business  manager  of  a  large 
manufactory,  and  obliged  to  defend  several 
consecutive  lawsuits  for  patent-right  in 
fringements,  neglected  for  weeks  to  write  to 
his  betrothed,  presupposing  of  course  that 
all  was  right.  This  offended  her  ladyship, 
and  allowed  evil-minded  meddlers  to  sow 
seeds  of  alienation  in  her  mind;  persuade 
her  to  send  him  his  dismissal,  and  accept 
a  marriage  proposal  from  another. 

A  Sad  Story. 

As  he  told  his  mournful  story,  he  seemed 
like  a  sturdy  oak  riven  by  lightning  and 
torn  by  whirlwinds;  its  foliage  scorched, 
bark  stripped,  limbs  tattered,  even  its  very 
rootlets  scathed ;  yet  standing,  a  stern,  proud 
defiant,  resolute  wreck.  A  gushing  tear  he 
manfully  tried  but  failed  to  suppress.  His 
lips  quivered  and  voice  faltered.  Perceiving 
his  impending  fate,  he  seemed  to  dread  his 
future  more  than  present ;  and  hesitated  be 
tween  self-abandonment,  and  a  merely  me 
chanical,  objectless,  business  life.  In  at 
tempting  his  salvation,  by  proffering  advice 
to  the  "broken-hearted,"  he  respectfully  but 
firmly  declined ;  deliberately  preferring  old- 
bachelorship,  with  all  its  dearths,  of  which 
he  seemed  fully  conscious.  He  felt  as  if  he 
had  been  deeply  wronged. 

Yet  was  not  he  the  first  practically  to  re 
pudiate?  He  suffered  terribly,  because  he 
had  sinned  grievously,  not  by  commission, 
but  omission.  He  felt  the  deepest,  fullest, 
manliest  love,  and  revelled  in  anticipations 
of  their  future  union,  but  did  not  express  it ; 
which  was  to  her  as  if  he  had  not  felt  it ; 
whereas,  had  he  saved  but  one  minute  per 
week  to  write  lovingly,  "  I  long  to  be  with 
you,  and  love  you  still,"  or,  "  Business  does 
not,  cannot  diminish  my  fondness,"  he  would 


have  saved  her  broken  vows,  and  his  broken 
heart 

Mingling  other  enjoyments  with  love,  by 
going  together  to  picnics  and  parties,  sleigh' 
rides  and  mayings,   concerts,  and   lectures, 
marvellously  cements  the  affections. 
Love  Feeds  on  Love. 

Meet  in  your  most  attractive  habiliments 
of  mind  and  person.  French  ladies  will  see 
their  affianced  only  when  arrayed  in  their 
best  toilet.  Yet  mental  charms  vastly  sur 
pass  millinery.  Neither  can  render  your* 
selves  too  lovely. 

Express  affectionate  fondness  in  your  visits 
and  letters ;  the  more  the  better,  so  that  you 
keep  it  a  sentiment,  not  debase  it  by  animal 
passion.  It  is  still  establishing  its  rootlets, 
like  young  corn,  instead  of  growing.  Allow 
no  amatory  excitement,  no  frenzied,  delirious 
intoxication  with  it;  for  its  violence,  like 
every  other,  must  react  only  to  exhaust  and 
paralyze  itself  by  its  own  excesses. 

Affianced  young  man,  life  has  its  epochs, 
which  revolutionize  it  for  good  or  bad.  You 
are  now  in  one.  You  have  heretofore  affili 
ated  much  with  men;  formed  habits  oi 
smoking  or  chewing  tobacco ;  indulged  in 
late  suppers;  abused  yourself  in  various 
ways ;  perhaps  been  on  sprees.  Now  is  youi 
time  to  take  a  new  departure  from  whatever 
is  evil  to  all  that  is  good  and  pure.  Break 
up  most  of  your  masculine  associations ;  and 
affiliate  chiefly  with  your  affianced.  Be  out 
no  more  nights.  Let  your  new  responsibili 
ties  and  relations  brace  you  up  against  their 
temptations ;  and  if  these  are  not  sufficient.  > 
your  prospective  spouse  will  help.  No  othei 
aid  in  resisting  temptation  and  inspiring  to 
good  equals  that  of  a  loving,  loved  woman 

Break  off  from  your  cronyisms,  clubs,  so 
cieties,  all  engagements  except  such  as  mean 
imperative,  cold-blooded  business.  Your  new 
ties  furnish  an  excellent  excuse.  All  you? 


I2O 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


spare  time  and  small  change  are  wanted  for 
her.  To  give  to  bad  habits  the  time  and 
money  due  to  her  and  setting  up  in  life,  is 
outrageous.  Bend  everything  to  your  new 
regions,  them  to  nothing.  Now's  your 
time  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf,  and  turn  all 
the  angles,  corners,  and  right-about  faces 
needed. 

Affianced  maiden,  you  have  some  depart 
ures  to  take  and  corners  to  turn.  Your  life 
has  till  now  been  frivolous,  but  has  now  be 
come  serious.  You  have  no  more  need  of 
toilet  fineries ;  for  "  your  market  is  made," 
and  you  have  work  on  hand  far  more  im 
portant,  namely,  fitting  yourself  for  your 
new  duties.  Find  out  what  they  demand  of 
you,  and  set  right  about  making  a  premium 
wife  and  mother.  Both  begin  life  anew. 
Forgetting  the  past,  plant  and  sow  now  what 
you  would  gather  and  become  always. 

Woman  is  man's  choicest  treasure.  That 
is  the  most  precious  which  confers  the  most 
happiness.  She  is  adapted  to  render  him 
incomparably  happier  than  any  other  terres 
trial  possession.  He  can  enjoy  luscious 
peaches,  melting  pears,  crack  horses,  dollars, 
and  other  things  innumerable;  but  a  well- 
sexed  man  can  enjoy  woman  most  of  all. 
He  is  poor  indeed,  and  takes  little  pleasure 
in  this  life,  be  his  possessions  and  social 
position  what  they  may,  who  takes  no 
pleasure  with  her.  All  description  utterly 
fails  to  express  the  varied  and  exultant  en 
joyments  God  has  engrafted  into  a  right 
sexual  state.  Only  few  experiences  can 
attest  how  many  and  great,  from  infancy  to 
death,  and  throughout  eternity  Usel£  All 


God  could  do  He  has  done  to  rendei 
sex  superlatively  happy  in  the  other.  Of  all 
his  beautiful  and  perfect  works,  this  is  the 
most  beautiful  and  perfect  Of  all  his  be 
nignant  devices,  this  is  his  most  benign.  All 
the  divine  attributes,  all  human  happiness, 
converge  in  male  and  female  adaptations  to 
mutual  enjoyments. 

Each  is  correspondingly  precious  to  the 
other.  Man  should  prize  many  things,  yet 
woman  is  his  pearl  of  greatest  price.  He 
should  preserve,  cherish,  husband  many  life 
possessions,  but  woman  the  most  He  has 
many  jewels  in  his  crown  of  glory,  but  she 
is  his  gem-jewel,  his  diadem.  What  mascu 
line  luxury  equals  making  women  in  gener 
al,  and  the  loved  one  in  particular,  happy? 

Beginning  and  conducting  courtship  as 
this  chapter  directs,  avoiding  the  errors  and 
following  the  directions  it  specifies,  will  just 
as  surely  render  all  superlatively  happy  as 
sun  will  rise  to-morrow.  Scan  their  sense. 
Do  they  not  expound  nature's  love-initiat 
ing"  and  consummating  ordinances?  Are 
they  not  worthy  of  being  put  into  practice? 
Discordants,  can  you  not  trace  many  of  your 
antagonisms  and  miseries  to  their  ignorant 
violation?  Parents,  what  are  they  worth  to 
put  into  your  children's  hands,  to  forewarn 
them  against  carelessly,  ignoraiitly,  spoiling 
their  marriage?  Young  ladies,  what  are 
they  worth  to  you,  as  showing  you  how  to 
so  treat  your  admirers  as  to  gain  and  re 
double  their  heart's  devotion?  Young  men, 
what  are  these  warnings  and  teachings  worth 
to  you?  God  in  his  natural  laws  will  blest 
all  who  practice,  curse  all  who  violate  them 


CHAPTER  XIIL 


Who  are,  and  are  not,  Adapted   to  Each  Other 


peers. 
As    it 


FAMILY  is  a  great  affair.  As  a 
commodity,  a  production,  a  life- 
work,  an  achievement,  it  has  no 
Its  power  over  man  is  supreme, 
is,  so  is  all  else  human.  As  a 
"speculation,"  a  "venture,"  if  well  con 
ducted,  it  is  the  most  "paying  enterprise," 
yields  better  "  dividends,"  and  is  every  way 
more  "profitable"  than  any  other  "line  of 
business"  in  which  mortals  can  "invest." 
Those  who  possess  the  capital  should  procure 
a  "  round-trip  "  ticket  for  this  matrimonial 
excursion,,  It  will  take  you  around  and 
through  the  world  in  better  style,  and  show 
you  finer  "  prospects  "  than  any  other. 

Of  all  the  achievements  man  can  accom 
plish,  all  the  works  he  can  do,  and  missions 
fulfil,  this  stands  first.  He  who  has  founded 
a  family  among  men  has  done  vastly  more 
than  he  who  has  founded  a  useful  manufac 
tory,  or  established  a  "  commercial  house," 
or  amassed  great  wealth.  To  own  broad 
acres,  deeds,  corner  lots,  bonds,  is  something ; 
but  you  childless  millionaires  are  "poor 
critters,"  in  comparison  with  those  who  own 
a  superb  family.  That  is  incomparably  the 
very  finest  piece  of  "property"  within 
human  reach.  He  who  "owns"  a  good 
wife,  she  who  "possesses"  a  good  husband, 
and  that  married  pair  who  have  a  "clear 
dtle"  to  smart  and  rosy  little  ones,  with  a 
iomicile  and  necessaries  "  thrown  in,"  may 
justly  be  prouder,  carry  their  heads  higher, 
and  "  feel  their  oats  "  more  than  any  other 
occupants  of  this  whole  earth,  childless 
kings  not  excepted.  To  establish  a  family, 
shall  float  along  down  the  stream  of 


time,  to  originate  human  interests,  and  helf 
to  create  human  history,  exceeds  wearing 
childless  crowns.  What  realm  equals  the 
family  kingdom?  What  governor-general 
is  as  absolute  as  its  sovereign  head  ?  01  what 
obedience  as  willing  or  complete,  because 
accorded  by  love?  Gardens  filled  with  roses 
are  beautiful,  and  rich  fruits  luscious,  yet 
paradise  "  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these" 
families. 

How  should  it  be  "  gotten-up,"  and  man 
aged?  One  poorly  conducted  is  a  pool 
affair.  Wisdom  in  nothing  is  as  much 
needed  or  as  all-important  as  in  starting  and 
regulating  a  family  "  enterprise." 

God  ordained  the  family,  and  therefore  its 
natural  laws,  and  thereby  a  family  science,  as 
much  as  a  mathematical,  or  any  other ;  for 
which,  exultant  thanks  to  its  Author.  Obey 
ing  these  laws  renders  a  happy  family  just  as 
sure  as  to-morrow's  sun ;  because  both  are 
equally  induced  by  inflexible  causation. 
The  only  possible  cause  of  domestic  unhap- 
piness  is  the  breach  of  these  laws.  Those 
who  follow  them  need  have  no  more  fear  of 
domestic  unhappiness  than  that  the  sun  will 
turn  backwards. 

Learning  how  is  the  first  step.  Novices 
should  be  careful  how  they  undertake  it,  just 
as  children  should  not  play  carelessly  with 
sharp  tools ;  and  all  should  learn  how  to  use 
this  "instrument"  of  extreme  weal  or  woe 
before  they  begin  to  tamper  with  it ;  which 
is  often  quite  young. 

Where  can  men  learn  how  a  family  should 
be  founded  and  conducted?  Strange  that 
whilst  every  other  department  of  science  hat, 

lit 


T22 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


been  explored,  family  science  remains  still 
enshrouded  in  Egyptian  darkness.  Scholars, 
where  have  you  been  groping,  that  you  have 
not  discovered  this  field  of  human  research  ? 
Writers,  where  have  been  your  pens?  Cler 
gymen,  where  are  your  eyes  and  tongues 
that  you  thus  ignore  it? 


CHAUNCEY  M.  DEPEW. 

Strong,  compact  body;  large  perceptive  faculties 
and  language;  fine  social  qualities,  oratorical  gifts 
and  business  capacities. 

Self-preparation  is  first,  just  as  preparing 
the  ground  is  the  first  step  towards  obtaining 
a  crop  ;  and  the  next,  selection  of  a  right 
sexual  mate;  and  this  chapter  has  for  its 
object  to  show  how  to  take  this  step  (  ust 
right. 

Periodicity  is  a  universal  institute  of  Na 
ture.  It  controls  every  function  of  the  uni 
verse  ;  and  governs  all  the  motions  of  all  the 
heavenly  bodies,  with  all  the  functions  of  all 
that  lives.  Sun,  moon,  stars,  seasons,  days, 
and  nights  come  and  go  at  their  appointed 
periods.  There  is  a  natural  "time  for  every 
thing  under  the  sun."  All  plants,  animals, 
and  human  beings  have  their  infancy,  adoles 
cence,  maturity,  decline,  and  death.  These 


periods  are  inherent,  and  inwrought  through 
out  all  their  respective  functions.  There  is 
a  time  to  sow  and  reap,  be  born,  grow,  decay, 
and  die.  And  what  is  planted  or  done  in  its 
natural  season  prospers  far  better  than  out 

The  True  Time  to  Choose  and  Wed. 

Love  has  its  natural  period,  and  prospers 
better  when  it  is  observed.  And  it  has  but 
one  right  time,  which  is  exactly  right,  be 
cause  appointed  by  Nature.  She  is  perfect, 
so  are  all  her  works ;  her  love-works  inclu 
ded.  To  a  complete  love,  this  observance  of 
her  natural  times  and  seasons  is  indispensa- 
hie.  True,  though  one  may  make  an  excel 
lent  crop  of  cotton  or  corn,  even  if  planted 
out  of  time,  yet  how  much  better  that  same 
crop  if  planted  when  Nature  ordains  ?  Then, 
when  is  Nature's  best  time  for  planting  the 
seeds  of  love  ? 

"  You  should  marry  at  once.  You'll  need 
a  family  at  forty." 

"Fifty  will  be  in  season.  I  propose  to 
marry  then." 

"  That  will  be  like  planting  corn  in  Au 
gust  You  had  better  give  it  more  time  to 
grow" 

The  sexual  function  matures  lat*^r  than 
the  digestive  or  muscular ;  because  its  earliei 
development  would  be  useless,  yet  retard 
growth.  Boys  and  girls  like  each  othei 
some,  but  how  much  stronger  is  appetite  than 
love,  and  love  years  after  than  at  puberty? 
The  sexuality  slumbers  on  till  quickened  by 
puberty,  which  re-increases  it  till  eighteen  01 
twenty,  when  the  body  is  well  grown  and 
consolidated;  bones  become  dense,  and  theii 
gristly  joints  hardened  up;  muscles  full- 
sized  and  tort ;  and  mental  faculties  fully  es 
tablished.  Love  now  begins  to  assert  sov 
ereign  control.  No  puppy  love,  no  "juve 
nile  and  tender"  fancy,  but  a  deep,  strong, 
all-controlling  and  mature  affection  inspires 
and  electrifies  the  whole  being,  and  furnishes 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


123 


inhabits  the  human  structure,  taking 
that  helm  which  governs  every  part 

Old  Boys  and  Girls. 

Precocity  is  an  American  misfortune. 
Wrong  physical  habits,  tea,  coffee,  condi 
ments,  tobacco,  want  of  exercise,  our  hot 
house  school  system,  alcoholic  stimulants, 
etc.,  make  mere  boys  and  girls  petit  men  and 
women,  and  prematurely  light  and  fan  the 
fires  of  sexual  excitement.  Our  boys  must 
become  young  gentlemen  almost  as  soon  as 
they  cease  to  be  babies ;  must  hurry  into 
and  through  college ;  smoke,  chew,  drink, 
swear,  carouse,  before  puberty ;  have  a  love 
affair,  and  practice  all  the  vices  while  yet 
mere  boys;  make  and  lose  a  fortune  during 
their  teens ;  and  know  more  evil  at  thirteen 
than  their  fathers  did  at  thirty  ;  and  therefore 
blight  before  twenty.  This  renders  their 
love-appetite  violent  yet  dainty,  so  that 
straws  turn  it.  Soon  after  it  begins  to  taste 
the  sweets  of  love  it  fancies  its  lover  neg 
lectful,  or  partial  to  another,  which  a  hearty 
love  would  never  have  noticed. 

Previous  starvation  also  often  induces  both 
sudden  and  premature  love.  If  boys  were 
duly  loved  and  fondled  by  mother  and  aunt, 
and  girls  similarly  by  father  and  uncles,  and 
if  this  faculty  were  duly  cultivated  in  lads, 
lasses,  and  young  folks,  this,  its  partial  exer 
cise,  would  so  far  satisfy  it  in  the  bud  as  to 
hold  back  love  proper  a  year  or  two  longer, 
and  mitigate  its  violence ;  whereas  its  juve 
nile  suppression  renders  it  so  ravenous  that 
it  greedily  devours  whatever  food  is  offered. 
Elders,  consider  this  point,  and  compare  it 
with  your  experience. 

By  all  means  let  girls  be  girls  till  Nature 
makes  them  women.  Girlhood  is  quite  as 
essentially  antecedent  to  womanhood  as  is 
the  growth  of  fruits  to  their  ripening.  A 
girl's  weak,  becauce  immature,  love  is  easily 
reversed,  which  a  riper  would  surmount 


Those  very  elements  of  discord  which  dis 
gust  her  at  sixteen,  might  be  tolerated,  per* 
haps  enjoyed,  by  the  ripened  instincts  oi 
twenty.  She  is  less  in  danger  of  contract 
ing  ailments  by  a  marriage  at  twenty  thai? 
before  eighteen ;  besides  being  much  less 
?<hy,  modest,  and  bashful.  A  right  selection  i 


AMELIA  RIVES  CHANLER 

Nervous,  intellectual  temperament ;  brilliant  mind, 
predominating  over  body  ;  lacking  in  physical  breadth 
and  robustness. 

requires  a  fully  matured  love  intuition  and 
judgment  A  thoughtless  fancy  is  one  great 
cause  of  ill-assorted  marriages.  Many  dis 
appointed  in  marriage  might  say  : 

"  I  might  have  known  better  if  I  had 
thought  What  now  is  so  obnoxious  was 
plain  then,  only  that  I  did  not  stop  to  con 
sider." 

Love  Fancies  and  Whims. 

Intellect  should  govern  every  life  move 
ment,  and  especially  marriage.  This  step  is 
too  eventful  to  be  taken  by  giddy  youth. 
Females  just  begin  to  come  to  their  senses 
at  sixteen,  and  males  about  eighteen,  some 
sooner,  according  as  they  ripen  earlier  or 
later,  yet  it  then  requires  a  year  or  two  for 


124 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


both  the  love  instinct  and  judgment  to  be 
come  sufficiently  matured  to  consummate  this 
eventful  choice.  The  more  so  since  earlier 
fancies  change.  One  who  might  exactly 
suit  at  sixteen,  might  not  at  twenty ;  but 
one  who  is  all  right  at  twenty,  will  please 
always ;  because  the  love  basis  is  now  fully 
established  for  life  ;  which  is  rarely  the  case 
before  seventeen. 

Looking  for  an  object,  will  enable  you  to 
hold  your  love  in  check  for  years,  if  neces 
sary,  till  you  find  a  congenial  spirit ;  while 
not  looking,  endangers  a  sudden,  if  not  sense 
less,  love.  Then,  O  youth  !  hold  it  back  till 
eighteen,  but  put  your  house  in  order  before 
twenty-two,  and  hospitably  welcome  this 
love-guest  as  your  most  important  life  visi 
tant,  when  it  knocks  at  the  door  of  your 
affections.  Be  mated  before  twenty-four  at 
furthest,  and  then  marry  when  you  like. 
Mature  Parents  and  Fine  Children. 

Nature's  mating  end,  offspring,  determines 
its  true  period.  Parental  immaturity  causes 
progenal  weakliness.  Nature  will  not  let 
juveniles  or  seniles  procreate,  but  reserves 
parentage  only  for  life's  meridian,  or  after 
maturity,  but  before  decline.  "  The  young 
est  children  are  the  smartest "  is  a  universal 
proverb;  obviously  because  the  animal  must 
precede  the  mental  in  formation  and  decline. 
Man's  intellectual  and  moral  departments 
both  develop  and  decline  after  the  animal ; 
so  that  children  born  during  the  younger  or 
animal  period  are  relatively  the  more  impul 
sive  and  impassioned  than  those  of  the  same 
parents  born  later,  under  the  parental  intel 
lectual  and  moral  regimen.  Yet  when  pa- 
jental  health  is  declining,  especially  the 
mother's,  the  eldest  are  the  smartest.  The 
reason  is  apparent 

The  following  facts  are  instructive : 
Franklin  was  the  youngest  child  of  the 
youngest  child  for  five  successive  genera 


tions,  and  on  his  mother's  side,  from  whom, 
more  than  from  his  father,  he  inherited  his 
talents.  He  was  the  fifteenth  child  of  hi* 
father  and  eighth  of  his  mother. 

Ben.  Johnson  was  born  when  his  fathet 
was  70,  and  mother  42. 

Pitt,  Fox,  and  Burke,  were  each  the 
youngest  child  of  their  families. 

Daniel  Webster  was  the  youngest  by  a 
second  marriage. 

Lord  Bacon  was  the  youngest  by  a  second 
marriage,  born  when  his  father  was  50  and 
mother  32. 

Benjamin  West  was  the  tenth  child  of  his 
parents. 

Washington's  mother  was  28  at  his  birth, 
and  father  much  older,  and  Thomas  Camp 
bell's  father  over  70  at  his  birth. 

Sir  William  Jones's  father  was  66  when 
this  intellectual  prodigy  first  saw  the  light 

Doddridge  was  the  twentieth  child,  by 
one  father  and  mother,  and  his  mother's 
mother  was  very  young  when  her  father 
died,  aged  62,  which  would  make  his  grand 
father  above  50  when  his  mother  was  born. 
His  father  was  at  least  43  when  his  son  was 
born. 

Judge  Story's  mother  was  about  44  at  his 
birth. 

Alexander  Hamilton  was  the  youngest 
son  by  a  second  marriage. 

Baron  Cuvier's  father  was  50  at  his  mar 
riage,  and  of  course  still  older  at  the  birth  of 
his  illustrious  son. 

All  history  abounds  in  similar  facts.  The 
Bible  is  especially  laden  with  them.  The 
father  of  Abraham  was  70,  of  Isaac  100,  and 
mother  90 ;  and  of  Jacob,  Joseph,  David, 
and  a  host  of  others,  old  people  when  these 
respective  worthies  were  born.  These  facts 
are  only  samples.  Nor  are  there  any  excep 
tions.  Where  is  the  distinguished  man,  born 
before  both  his  parents  had  arrived  at  full 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


125 


Maturity?    It  would  be  difficult  to  find  him. 

The  widest  investigation  proves  that  the 
sJder  the  parents  the  more  moral  and  intel 
lectual  the  offspring. 

The  legal  ages  for  contracting  marriages 
In  different  European  nations  are  as  follows, 
the  first  number  of  each  for  males,  and  sec 
ond  females :  Austria  and  Hungary,  Catho 
lics,  14,  12 ;  Protestants,  18,  16.  Russia, 
1 8,  1 6.  Italy,  18,  15.  Prussia,  18,  14 ;  till 
lately,  20,  16.  France  and  Belgium,  18,  15. 
Gieece,  14,  12;  are  proposing  to  enact  15, 
12,  Spain,  14,  12.  Portugal,  14,  12;  but 
up  to  21  they  must  get  parental  consent. 
Switzerland,  some  cantons,  20,  17 ;  others 
lown  to  14,  12  ;  but  in  Geneva  parental  con- 
jent  is  necessary  up  to  25. 

Females  can  marry  about  two  years  the 
younger. 

The  Female  Determines  the  True  Period. 

Males  should  be  from  two  to  four  years 
the  elder,  because  they  ripen  later,  and  retain 
parental  capacity  longest;  and  because  a 
woman,  to  love  fully,  must  look  up  to  her 
idol.  Then,  when  is  she  prepared?  Though 
she  can  conceive  soon  after  puberty,  yet  to 
fully  fit  her  rapidly-growing  female  organism 
for  so  great  a  work  as  maternity,  "  takes 
time." 

Till  she  nearly  tompletes  her  growth  she 
requires  a  great  amount  of  both  organic  ma 
terial  and  vital  force  for  home  consumption ; 
so  that  as  great  a  drain  as  offspring  necessi 
tates  would  break  down  her  constitution  be 
fore  it  became  consolidated.  The  children 
of  too  young  a  mother  must  needs  be  poorly 
constituted;  besides  exhausting  her.  City 
girls  mature  earlier  than  country,  and  south 
ern  than  northern,  and  excitable  than 
phlegmatic. 

Nineteen  is  about  the  average  for  mating 
in  females,  and  twenty-one  in  males. 

Yet  the  number  of  years  is  less  material 


than  maturity.  Some,  like  the  Juueating, 
ripen  early,  while  others  do  not  become 
men  or  women  till  nearly  twenty  ;  yet,  like 
the  winter-apple,  keep  the  longer.  Hence, 
many  a  woman  is  neglected  because  on  the 
wrong  side  of  thirty,  though  younger  in 
constitution  than  others  at  twenty,  and  will 
continue  to  manifest  all  the  elements  of  the 
woman  long  after  the  "Early  Annes"  have 
become  superannuated. 

Nature's  Time  for  Wi 


Nature  may  wait,  if  all  her  laws  were 
fully  observed,  till  twenty-three  in  a  woman, 
and  twenty-four  in  a  man,  but  no  longer. 
In  all  who  wait  longer,  gender  and  love  be 
come  weakened  and  averted  by  starvation, 
or  demoralized  by  its  taking  on  its  animal 
phase.  Nature  is  a  great  economist;  and 
provides  that  no  time  be  lost.  As  every 
plant,  tree,  animal  has  its  reproductive 
period,  so  has  man.  Hence,  just  as  fast  as 
she  matures  any  of  her  productions,  she  sets 
them  to  executing  her  greatest  work,  repro* 
duction,  commands  all  to  "  multiply,"  anq 
obliges  them  to  obey.  Young  man  and 
woman,  you  neglect  her  work  only  at  yout 
cost.  You  both  forego  her  reward  of  labor, 
and  incur  her  penalties  of  inertia.  Then 
form  your  love  alliance  just  as  soon  as  yo: 
find  yourself  fully,  fairly  matured. 

You  say,  "  This  leaves  the  mating  period 
undetermined,  practically,  though  it  em. 
bodies  its  governing  principles.  Does  any 
law  tell  each  particular  person  at  just  what 
precise  age  he  or  she  should  marry  ?  "  • 

All  instincts  proclaim  destinies.  As  na 
tural  hunger  decides  when  we  should  eat, 
and  thus  of  sleep,  warmth,  etc.  ;  so  love  tells! 
each  one  just  when  he  or  she  should  mate 
and  marry  by  its  own  intuitive  monitions. 
Behold  Cupid  mantling  the  cheeks  of  that 
well-sexed  maiden  thoroughly  enamored 
with  the  most  glowing  blushes  ;  flashing  love 


126 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


from  every  glance  of  her  eyes,  bursting  forth 
in  every  movement  of  her  quivering  lips, 
warbling  in  inexpressibly  soft,  tender,  touch 
ing  tones  and  accents,  and  immeasurably  en- 
liancing  every  excellence  she  possesses. 
How  completely  fascinated  and  bewitched 
it  renders  her  and  her  lover.  Wherever  she 
goes,  or  whatever  she  does,  she  thinks  only 
and  ever  of  her  idol. 

The  Ix>ve  Fever. 

By  all  this  instinctive  love  fervor  ind 
power,  does  God,  in  her  nature,  command 
her  to  fulfil  it  in  marriage,  to  which  alone 
it  gravitates  and  is  adapted.  By  this  "  de 
sire  "  God  commands  her  to  marry  then. 

After  twenty  the  female  organism  manu 
factures  a  large  surplus  of  organic  material, 
and  unless  she  marries  and  bears,  sexual  star 
vation  or  else  inflammation  inevitably  super 
venes.  She  may  find  partial  salvation  in 
loving  without  marriage  or  maternity  ;  but 
feeds  this  element  only  on  husks,  in  place  of 
the  bread  and  fruits  of  love.  Nature  com 
mands  woman  to  live  for  her  husband  and 
children,  and  she  who  disobeys  induces  pen 
alties  she  cannot  afford  to  incur.  Her  mating 
period  is  infinitely  precious.  By  all  means 
let  her  make  love-hay  while  her  love-sun 
shines  and  bloom  lasts.  The  younger  they 
are  the  longer  they  may  court  whilst  love 
ripens ;  but  the  more  mature  it  is  the  sooner 
they  should  marry. 

Up  to  twenty-two,  those  who  propose  mar 
riage  should  be  about  the  same  age ;  yet  a 
difference  of  fifteen  years,  after  the  youngest 
is  twenty-five,  need  not  prevent  a  marriage, 
when  everything  else  is  favorable.  But  a 
tuan  of  forty-five  may  marry  a  woman  of 
twenty-six  or  upwards  much  more  safely 
;han  one  of  thirty  a  girl  below  twenty  ;  for 
her  natural  coyness  requires  more  delicate 
treatment  than  his  abruptness  is  likely  to 
He  is  apt  to  err  fundamentally  by 


precipitancy,  presupposing  that  her 
sexuality  is  as  mature  as  his  own0  Though 
a  man  upwards  of  forty  must  not  marry  one 
below  twenty-two,  yet  a  man  of  fifty  may 
venture  to  marry  a  woman  of  twenty-five,  if 
he  is  hale  and  descended  from  a  long-lived 
ancestry.  Still  no  girl  under  twenty  should 
ever  rn^Ty  any  man  over  twenty-six. 
Differences  of  Age. 

The  love  of  an  elderly  man  for  a  girl  is 
more  parental  than  conjugal ;  while  hers  for 
him  is  like  that  of  a  daughter  for  a  father, 
rather  than  wife  for  husband.  He  loves  her 
as  a  pet,  and  therefore  his  inferior,  instead 
of  as  a  woman ;  and  is  compelled  to  look 
down  upon  her  as  inexperienced,  below  him 
in  judgment,  too  often  impulsive  and  un 
wise  ;  which  obliges  him  to  make  too  many 
allowances  to  be  compatible  with  a  genuine 
union.  And  she  is  compelled  to  look  up  to  him 
more  as  one  to  be  reverenced,  perhaps  feareds 
and  as  more  good  and  wise  than  companion 
able.  Their  ideas  and  feelings  must  neces 
sarily  be  dissimilar.  He  may  indeed  pet, 
flatter,  and  indulge  her  as  he  would  a  grown 
daughter,  and  appreciate  her  artless  inno 
cence  and  girlish  light-heartedness ;  yet  all 
this  is  not  genuine  masculine  and  feminine 
love  ;  nor  can  she  exert  over  him  the  influ 
ence  every  man  requires  from  his  wife. 

Besides  a  gray-headed  husband's  gallanting 
a  girlish  wife  is  incongruous.  Her  assum 
ing  that  juvenile  gayety  so  natural  to  youth, 
while  he  is  as  dignified  and  high-toned  as 
becomes  all  elderly  gentlemen,  is  a  little 
like  uniting  Fall  with  Spring. 

All  girls  should  laugh,  play,  be  juvenile, 
and  mingle  in  young  society,  and  an  elderly 
husband  might  not  want  to  go  to  as  many 
parties  as  his  girl-wife.  Of  course  she  must 
stifle  her  love  of  company,  or  else  be  escorted 
by  a  younger,  perhaps  therefore  more  .sym 
pathizing  beau,  who  must  play  the  agreeuble, 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


127 


whisper  pleasant  things,  perhaps  ex 
pressions  of  love,  in  her  willing  ear,  while 
she  prefers  the  young  beau,  and  is  quite 
liable  to  love  her  husband  rather  as  a  father, 
yet  another  as  a  lover.  At  least  those 
elderly  men  who  marry  girls  must  keep  only 
half  an  eye  half  open,  and  see  little  even 
with  that.  Not  that  their  young  consorts 
are  faithless,  but  that  they  are  exposed  to 
temptation. 

A  young  woman  deficient  in  amativeness 
naturally  gravitates  towards  elderly  men  ; 
because  their  greater  age  has  put  theirs  on 
about  the  same  plane  with  hers.  Such  girls, 
therefore,  greatly  prefer  men  from  twenty  to 
thirty  years  their  seniors.  In  such  cases  her 
preferences  may  be  safely  trusted. 

Seventeen  and  Forty-two. 

But  a  youngish  woman  had  far  better  marry 
an  elderly  man,  who  is  otherwise  acceptable, 
than  not  to  marry  at  all.  If  she  is  satisfied, 
he  should  not  object.  Still,  she  must  look 
one  of  these  alternatives  fairly  in  the  face 
— either  to  impart  to  him  of  her  own  life 
stamina  to  sustain  him  longer  than  he 
could  otherwise  live,  while  she  dies  sooner  ; 
or  see  him  die  before  her,  only  to  break  her 
heart  in  case  a  genuine  love  exists,  or  else  be 
obliged  to  transfer  it  to  another ;  from  either 
of  which  she  may  well  pray  to  be  delivered. 

There  are  cases,  however,  in  which  girls 
may  marry  seniors.  One  of  seventeen  fell 
desperately  in  love  with  her  teacher  of  forty- 
two.  Repelled  by  her  cold,  stern  father,  and 
denied  the  society  of  young  men,  her  innate 
love  being  strong,  it  must  of  course  perish 
or  else  find  some  object.  Her  teacher,  an 
excellent  man,  without  one  thought  of 
thereby  eliciting  her  love,  nor  would  he  if 
her  father  had  been  affectionate  to  her,  kindly 
aided  her  in  her  studies,  especially  arithme 
tic,  which  masculine  kindness,  to  which  she 
unused,  called  forth  her  love  for  him,  on 


whom  it  fastened  with  perfect  desperation, 
To  all  such  the  advice  should  be:  "The 
main  objection  to  your  marriage  lies  on  her 
side.  But  to  break  her  heart  by  preventing 
it,  will  do  her  far  more  injury  than  marrying 
her  senior ;  therefore  marry."  But  these  are 
isolated  cases. 

Better  older  men  marry  young  women, 
than  young  men  elderly  women ;  because 
paternity  continues  later  in  life  than  mater 
nity.  Circumstances  may  justify  the  mar 
riage  of  a  young  man  to  an  elderly  woman. 
A  wild,  injudicious,  imprudent  youth  of 
twenty-two,  who  needed  the  influence  of  a 
mother  united  with  that  of  a  wife,  married 
and  lived  happily  with  a  widow  of  thirty- 
six,  and  found  in  her  maternal  with  conju 
gal  affections.  An  elderly  woman,  posses 
sing  superior  natural  excellences,  may  com° 
pensate  for  her  age  by  her  superiority ;  but  for 
a  young  man  to  marry  an  elderly  woman's 
wealth,  and  long  for  her  death  that  he  may 
enjoy  her  moncv,  "caps  the  climax"  of 
"total  depravity."  Still,  an  artful  woman, 
who  knows  just  how  to  play  on  the  amatory 
feelings  of  a  young  man,  may  so  ingratiate 
herself  into  his  affections  that,  as  with  the 
girl  just  mentioned,  their  marriage  is  best 
for  him. 

The  determining  question  is,  can  a  right 
love  be  established  between  them  ? 

Your  Choice  will  Make  or  Unmake  You. 

All  must  choose,  while  passing  through 
life,  in  many  and  important  cases,  between 
right  ways  and  wrong ;  paths  leading  to  har> 
piness  and  misery,  honor  and  shame,  virtue 
and  vice,  and  their  consequences ;  yet  of  all 
the  decisions  man  can  ever  make,  that  re 
specting  conjugal  companionship  is  the  most 
important,  because  the  most  eventful  for 
prosperity  and  adversity,  weal  and  woe,  vir 
tue  and  vice,  in  this  world  and  the  next.  By 
all  the  power  of  a  right  and  a  wrong  state  of 


128 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


love,  by  the  very  heart's  core  of  life  itself, 
and  all  its  interests,  is  it  important  that  we 
select  just  its  very  best  possible  object  as  re 
gards  general  character,  and  special  adapta 
tion  to  ourselves.  We  should  select  acquain 
tances  wisely,  since  their  aggregate  influence 


HENRY  W.  GRADY. 


Motive,  mental  temperament ;  youthful  disposition, 
joined  with  emotional  nature  ;  well-known  "  Southern 
orator." 

is  great ;  business  partners  more  so ;  and 
intimate  heart-friends  still  more,  because  all 
affect  our  entire  future  ;  yet  the  effects  of  all 
combined  are  utterly  insignificant  when 
compared  with  those  of  our  conjugal  partner. 
Nature's  externals  always  correspond  with 
her  internals.  Genuine  beauty  signifies  ex 
cellence  in  fruits,  animals,  and  woman,  and 
of  course  companionship,  including  a  fine 
grained  organism,  as  well  as  moral  and  intel 
lectual  excellence.  Yet  prettiness  and  "  fancy 
touches,"  often  mistaken  for  beauty,  are 
"  only  skin  deep,"  and  of  little  practical  ac 
count.  Such  usually  make  plainer  women 
than  plain  girls  do.  The  practical  question 
is,  how  will  she  look  after  she  has  been  a 
mother,  and  perhaps  become  thin  and  pale  ? 


Marriage  is  for  life,  while  mere  prettines 
soon  fades. 

But  homely  women,  though  ever  so  good, 
kind,  loving,  industrious,  and  much  more, 
have  some  imperfection,  or  lack  some  female 
attributes ;  while  those  who  have  any  objec 
tionable  feature  will  generally  have  some 
objectionable  trait.  Still  beauties,  again, 
will  do  for  flirtation  with  fops. 

The  Stylish  Woman. 

Style  is  desirable,  if  well  sustained,  and 
does  not  degenerate  into  ostentation.  Does 
she  appear  well  in  company?  Can  you  in 
troduce  her  proudly  to  your  old  comrades  as 
your  beau-ideal?  A  pleasing,  "taking," 
attractive  address  which  combines  grace 
with  elegance,  and  charms  while  it  sways,  is 
a  great  recommendation.  Not  that  we  at 
tempt  to  analyze  good  manners,  but  only 
call  attention  to  them  as  very  expressive  of 
character;  yet  affected  artificiality,  a  con 
strained  aping  of  gentility,  indicates  a  make- 
believe  outside  appearance,  and  want  of 
genuineness ;  while  a  natural,  unaffected  sim 
plicity  in  walk,  speech,  and  manners  betokens 
a  truthfulness  to  nature  every  way  desirable. 

Dandyism,  foppery,  broadcloth,  ladies,  must 
not  be  allowed  to  outweigh  true  manliness  of 
manner,  though  perhaps  eclipsed  by  bashful- 
ness  or  awkwardness.  Has  he  the  rudiments 
of  a  good  address  ?  Not,  is  he,  but  can  he 
become,  polished  ?  Often  internal  coarseness 
assumes  a  sugar-coated,  genteel  impudence 
which  provokes  laughter,  and  passes  off  for 
the  moment,  yet  discloses  long  ears.  Look 
below  the  surface.  Women  generally  over 
rate  forward,  but  greatly  underrate  diffident 
young  men.  Undue  forwardness  discloses  a 
familiarity  which  springs,  if  not  from  con 
tempt  of  the  sex,  at  least  a  want  of  due 
respect  for  it;  while  awkwardness  often 
originates  in  that  exalted  worship  of  it 
which  is  indispensable  in  a  husband. 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  fO  EACH  OTHER. 


129 


The  expression  of  talents  and  worth  stands 
second  only  to  their  possession.  Conversa 
tional,  speaking,  and  writing  talent  can 
hardly  be  overrated,  yet  is  almost  wholly 
overlooked.  Its  manifestation,  in  whichever 
form,  justly  challenges  the  admiration  of  the 
world,  past  and  present,  savage  and  civilized, 
learned  and  illiterate  ;  yet  wherein  does  con 
versational  eloquence  differ  from  forensic, 
except  in  the  number  of  its  listeners  ?  Is  it 
not  as  admirable  in  the  cottage  as  on  the 
rostrum?  Hence,  what  are  his  talents  for 
expressing  himself?  what  of  her  conversa 
tional  powers?  are  paramount  questions, 
and  the  answers  most  significant. 
Artificial  Ninnies. 

If  a  plain  girl's  ideas  flow  readily,  and  she 
clothes  them  in  appropriate  and  beautiful 
language,  this  gift  recommends  her  more 
than  all  the  boarding-school  artificialities 
and  millinery  she  can  exhibit.  Does  she 
warm  up  with  her  subject,  and  impart  to  it 
a  glow,  an  interest,  which  delights  and  in 
spires?  Does  she  choose  words  which  ex 
press  her  precise  meaning,  and  begin  her 
sentences  at  the  right  end;  or  does  she 
bungle  both?  Is  she  grammatical;  or  does 
she  murder  the  "King's  English?"  Not, 
"Can  she  speak  French,"  but  can  she  talk 
elegantly  ?  It  matters  little  whether  she  has 
studied  grammar,  for  natural  conversational 
talent  will  evince  itself  irrespective  of  edu 
cational  aids,  which  of  course  help.  Does 
she  spoil  a  good  story  by  telling  it  badly,  or 
so  tell  every  one  as  to  make  its  point  of  ap 
plication  emphatic?  Is  she  suggestive  ?  Does 
she  make  you  think  and  feel  as  she  converses? 

Many  object  to  long  female  tongues,  as 
given  to  scandal ;  whereas,  whether  one 
talks  well  or  ill  has  absolutely  nothing  to  do 
with  backbiting.  Scandal  is  consequent  on 
a  malevolent  spirit,  not  on  a  "long  tongue." 

One  may  say  a  little,  but  misrepresent  that ; 
O 


or  talk  much,  yet  give  a  true  version. 
Neglect  those  girls  who,  looking  through 
inverted  glasses,  always  represent  things  as 
worse  than  they  really  are;  but  patronize 
pleased  and  hopeful  ones  who  paint  what 
ever  they  attempt  to  say  or  do  in  beautiful, 
handsome  colors,  and  regard  things  favor 
ably. 

Sound  Morals  in  Married  Life. 

A  high  moral  tone,  along  with  uncom 
promising  integrity,  is  pre-eminently  de 
manded  in  the  conjugal  relations.  Nothing 
whatever  averts  love  as  soon  as  this  deBci- 
ency.  L,ove  must  have  unlimited  confidence, 
or  perish.  Moral  principle  naturally  elicits 
affection,  while  trickery  and  all  wrong 
doings  are  fatal  to  it. 

Worst  of  all,  this  deficit  transmits  itself  to 
those  dear  children  on  whom  you  are  to  dote. 
To  see  them  grow  up  comparatively  regard 
less  of  the  right,  unrestrained  from  wrong 
doing  by  a  high  sense  of  duty,  and  irrespon 
sive  to  conscientious  appeals,  is  indeed  most 
agonizing ;  and  by  all  means  to  be  prevented 
by  marrying  only  those  endowed  with  large 
conscience. 

A  naturally  good  temper,  or  a  pleas 
ant  spirit  versus  a  cross-grained,  petulant, 
can  hardly  be  overrated.  It  makes  a  world 
of  difference  whether  a  conjugal  companion 
construes  everything  in  the  worst  light  or  in 
the  best ;  takes  things  adversely  and  frets  over 
them,  or  smooths  and  makes  the  best  of 
them  °  is  always  in  a  fluster  and  bustle,  or 
quiet  and  even-tempered ;  uniformly  patient, 
or  perpetually  scolding ;  repelling,  or  attract 
ing;  irritating,  or  calming;  rough,  or  gentle; 
spiteful,  or  soft;  continually  creating  dis 
turbances,  or  making  peace;  resentfal,  or 
forgiving ;  overbearing,  or  forbearing ;  wait 
ing  on,  or  requiring  to  be  waited  on ;  claim 
ing  the  best  for  self,  or  giving  it  to  others ; 
sending  off  this  brother  with  a  box  on  the 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


ear,  and  that  with  a  spiteful  pushv  "  Then  do 
as  I  bid  you,"  or  asking  'hem  pleasantly  for 
favors.  Let  scolds  alone. 

Marrying  Gelations. 

Consanguineous  marriages  deteriorate  their 
issue.  This  observation  is  almost  universal, 
through  all  ages  and  nations.  Christianity, 
almost  from  its  origin,  has  interdicted  incest. 
A  question  thus  practically  important  de 
serves  a  scientific  solution. 

The  marriage  of  first  cousins  among-  the 
isolated  valleys  of  Switzerland,  one  genera 
tion  after  another,  is  of  frequent  occurrence, 
and  in  these  cantons  dwarfness,  cretinism, 
idiocy,  are  disgustingly  prevalent 

In  France,  such  marriages  average  two  per 
cent.,  but  the  issue  of  dwarf  mutes  by  such 
marriages,  averages  twenty-eight  per  cent. ; 
and  occurs  the  oftener  the  nearer  the  parental 
relationship. 

Dr.  S.  G.  Howe's  report  to  the  Massachu 
setts  Legislature  says :  "  One  twentieth  of  the 
idiots  were  children  of  cousins,  while  their 
marriage  is  in  no  such  proportion,  and  all 
other  defects  are  in  like  proportion.  Seven 
teen  such  marriages  produced  ninety-five 
children,  of  which  forty-four  are  idiots,  and 
twelve  more  puny,  or  nearly  two-thirds  in 
all." 

Dr.  J.  G.  Spurzheim  says:  "Scarcely one 
among  the  royal  families  of  Europe,  who 
have  married  in  and  in  for  generations,  can 
write  a  page  of  consecutive  sound  sense  on 
any  scientific,  or  literary,  or  moral  subject." 

Says  Dr.  Caldwell :  "  One  cause  of  human 
deterioration  is  family  marriages.  It  has 
almost  extinguished  most  of  the  royal  fami 
lies  of  Europe,  though  at  first  they  were  the 
notables  of  the  land  for  physical  strength, 
and  force  of  mind  and  character." 

An  eminent  English  physician,  Dr.  Bux- 
ton,  says :  "  From  ten  to  twelve  per  cent  of 
our  deaf  mutes  are  children  of  cousins.  In 


170  consanguineous  marriages  were  269 
deaf  or  dumb  children,  and  seven  in  one 
family." 

Moses  condemns  blood  marriages  even 
thoiigh  he  thereby  practically  censures  his 
national  patriarchs;  doubtless  because  of 
their  palpably  deteriorating  effects. 

The  Koran,  the  Scriptures  of  the  Moham 
medans,  says:  "  Ye  are  forbidden  to  marry 
your  mothers,  and  your  daughters,  and  yout 
sisters,  and  your  aunts,  and  your  cousins,  and 
your  foster-sisters,  and  your  wives'  mothers." 

About  ten  per  cent,  of  the  idiocy  in  Scot 
land  is  caused  by  consanguineous  marriages. 
Permissible  Cases. 

Some  authors  maintain  that  such  marriages 
do  not  degenerate  offspring,  and  cite  "  breed 
ing  in  and  in"  in  proof.  Occasionally  the 
children  of  cousins  do  indeed  manifest  supe 
rior  vigor  and  talents.  How  can  these  seem» 
ingly  contradictory  facts  be  explained  ? 

Thus :  resemblance  to  the  related  parentage 
deteriorates  offspring;  while  two  cousins 
who  do  not  resemble  each  other,  that  is,  who 
inherit  mainly  from  those  ancestors  through 
which  they  are  not  related,  may  marry  with 
comparative  assurance  that  their  offspring 
will  be  normal. 

A  strong  love  between  two  cousins  is 
good  evidence  that  they  are  adapted  to  each 
other  in  parentage.  Yet  there  are  plenty  oi 
others  quite  as  lovable  as  cousins,  and  tht 
mere  risk  of  impairing  offspring  is  fearful. 

Some  one  staminate  constituent — that 
which  is  to  all  what  foundation  is  to  super 
structure,  spinal  column  to  physical  frame, 
oxygen  to  air,  head  to  body,  and  sun  to  solai 
system,  must  govern  marriage,  as  it  does 
everything  else.  What  is  it  ? 

Sexuality,  normal  and  abundant,  alone 
creates  whatever  is  manly  and  womanly; 
attracts  and  is  attracted,  loves  and  awakens 
love,  inspirits  and  is  inspirited,  fuses  and  is 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


fused,  moulds  and  is  moulded,  and  both  con- 
rers  life  and  predetermines  its  amount.  All 
other  conjugal  prerequisites  sink  into  insig 
nificance  when  compared  with  this,  because 
it  is  the  summary  and  embodiment  of  all ; 
that  which  is  to  all  what  lime  is  to  mortar, 
or  tendon  to  muscle.  The  answer  to  the 
questions,  "  How  much  mental  and  physical 
manhood  has  this  beau  as  compared  with  that? 
how  much  of  a  female  is  this  woman  as 
compared  with  that  ?  "  should  mainly  deter 
mine  the  choice.  "  Which  is  the  most  mag 
netic,  and  capable  of  the  deepest,  completest 
devotion,  will  inspire  the  most  love  in  me, 
and  call  out  my  manly  affections  and  attri 
butes  ?  "  is  a  man's  great  practical  inquiry  ; 
while  a  woman's  should  be,  "Which  is 
truest  to  masculine  nature,  and  will  bestow 
the  most  on  me?"  not  which  is  the  most 
polite  or  spruce  ? 

Manly  Men  and  Womanly  Women. 

These  are  plain  questions,  but  they  go  to 
the  very  core  and  root  of  this  whole  matter. 
Gender  is  the  base  and  measure  of  both 
companionship  and  parentage.  Those  who 
have  this,  have  "  the  one  thing  needful "  in 
marriage ;  those  who  lack  this,  lack  all. 
By  its  means,  all  other  differences  can  readily 
be  adjusted,  though  unadjustable  without  it. 
Those  in  whom  this  staminate  condition  is 
"all  right,"  however  dissimilar  in  other 
respects,  can  live  happily  together  though 
full  of  faults;  yet  those  who  lack  this  are 
unmarriageable,  though  possessed  of  every 
other  excellence. 

Its  mere  amount  is  by  no  means  all,  for 
its  normal  state  is  also  important.  Better 
its  abundance,  though  perverted,  than  defi 
ciency,  though  normal ;  because  it  is  far 
more  easily  sacrificed  than  reincreased ;  yet 
how  infinitely  better  that  it  be  both  hearty 
and  pure !  A  knowing  companion  can 
always  easily  reform  it  in  the  other.  How 


important  that  each  knows  how  to  correct 
its  wrong  action  in  the  other,  and  just  how 
to  manage  the  other  by  its  means.  Some 
day  this  art  of  arts  will  be  studied. 

Similar  general  matrimonial  prerequisites 
might  be  extended  indefinitely  ;  yet  letting 
these  put  inquirers  on  the  right  track  as  to 


EDWARD    BELLAMY. 


Large  perceptive  faculties  ;  defective  reasoning  pow 
ers,  yet  bold  in  conceptions  ;  strong  individuality,  and 
dislikes  opposition  ;  celebrated  author. 

all,  please  duly  consider  that  all  should  select 
the  greatest  aggregate  good,  but  not  reject 
one  on  account  of  minor  defects.  You  are 
now  simply  selecting  the  materials  out  of 
which  you  can  make  a  lovable  companion. 
General  heartiness  or  tameness,  energy  or 
passivity,  a  whole-souled  interest  in  whatever 
interests  at  all,  or  a  good  easy  make,  and  a 
right  hearty  shake  of  the  hand  or  its  mere 
tender,  and  all  other  like  signs  and  functions, 
should  be  thrown  into  one  common  matri 
monial  equation,  and  general  and  specific 
results  deciphered  therefrom.  One  may 
have  a  minor  flaw,  coupled  with  marked  ex 
cellences,  which  increase  his  or  her  eligibility 
more  than  a  score  of  such  faults  detract 


therefrom.     All  should  choose  the  best  one 
available,  and  then  be  satisfied. 

Do  not  choose  one  too  good,  or  too  far 
above,  for  yourself,  lest  the  inferior,  by  dis 
satisfying  the  superior,  breed  those  discords 
which  are  worse  than  mutual  satisfaction 


DISSIPATED  HUSBAND. 

w:tl.  those  not  so  highly  organized.  Don't 
be  too  particular ;  for  you  might  go  farther 
and  fare  worse.  As  far  as  you  yourself  are 
faulty,  you  should  put  up  with  faults.  Don't 
cheat  a  consort  by  getting  one  much  better 
than  you  can  give.  We  are  not  in  heaven 
yet,  and  must  put  up  with  their  imperfec 
tions,  and  instead  of  grumbling  at  them  be 
glad  they  are  no  worse ;  remembering  that 
a  faulty  one  is  a  great  deal  better  than  none. 
Men  are  created  with  different  tastes  and 
dispositions.  This  diversify  is  the  great  in 
strumentality  of  progress  an4  invention, 
which  similar'ty  would  render  impossible. 
It  appertains  to  talents,  feelings,  religion,  and 


everything;  but  most  to  matrimonial  pre£ 
erences.  As  some  like  one  kind  of  friends, 
and  others  another,  even  liking  the  very 
same  traits  disliked  by  others ;  so  one  man  is 
captivated  by  this  beauty,  whom  another 
considers  plain ;  one  admiring,  the  other  dis 
liking,  the  very  same  features  and  specialties. 

Likes  and  Dislikes. 

Some  men  like  large,  othfcrs  small,  and 
still  others  medium-sized  women  ;  some  this 
complexion,  which  is  odious  to  others ;  and 
thus  of  all  the  other  physical  qualities.  One 
woman  admires,  another  dislikes,  the  very 
same  men  and  attributes.  One  can  hardly 
tolerate  what  perfectly  fascinates  another; 
and  yet  both  are  intelligent,  and  judge  cor 
rectly  and  alike  in  other  respects.  That  same 
man  who  is  perfectly  adapted  to  make  one 
woman  happy,  and  be  happy  with  her,  would 
be  perfectly  miserable  with  another,  and 
render  her  so ;  while  a  given  woman  who  is 
perfectly  adapted  to  become  an  excellent  wife 
to  this  man,  would  make  a  very  poor  one 
for  that ;  those  poor  for  some  men  being  pre 
cisely  what  others  require. 

These  likes  and  dislikes  are  not  fitful,  but 
governed  by  primal  laws.  Hence,  we  can 
predicate  with  accuracy  that  this  one  will 
like  these  traits,  and  that  one  other  qualities. 
All  affectional  likes  and  dislikes  are  as  in 
stinctive  and  inflexible  as  those  by  which 
the  lion  craves  raw  meat,  and  the  horse  oats. 

Nature  adapts  particular  males  and  females 
to  each  other,  and  creates  a  mutual  attrac 
tion  between  those  who  are  thus  adapted. 
This  is  one  aspect  of  that  great  law  that 
appetites  are  as  requirements;  or  that  we 
love  what  is  best  for  us.  Men  and  women 
are  diversified  in  character  and  tastes,  so  that 
while  "there's  a  flower  in  the  garden" 
adapted  to  the  tastes  of  each,  yet  it  must  be 
selected  and  plucked  by  the  one  who  is  at. 
tracted  by  its  quality,  and  loves  its  ever? 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


133 


petal  and  leaf.  This  is  the  law  of  affinities. 
There  are  plain  rules,  founded  on  common 
sense,  which  should  govern  the  choice  of 
husband  or  wife.  Thus,  that  consumptive, 
who,  by  marrying  one  who  is  consumptive, 
"foreordains"  the  consumption  and  death 
of  his  children,  whereas,  by  marrying  one 
well  vitalized,  he  might  have  secured  robust 
offspring,  is  most  guilty  for  this  consumptive 
taint ;  and  for  not  entailing  robustness.  He 
has  no  right  to  leave  these  eventful  conse 
quences  "at  loose  ends."  He  is  solemnly 
bound  to  know  beforehand  that  his  wife  is 
not  consumptive.  What  if  he  is  honest, 
kind,  devout,  fatherly,  and  all  that,  yet  did 
he  not  cause  their  death?  And  is  not  caus 
ing  it  by  hereditary  entailment  as  wicked  as 
by  poison?  What  if  he  knew  no  better? 
He  should  have  known.  What  right  has  he 
to  subject  them  to  the  consequences  of  a 
broken  hereditary  law  any  more  than  by 
throwing  them  down  a  precipice  to  subject 
them  to  the  broken  law  of  gravity?  or  cast 
ing  them  into  the  fire  to  oblige  them  to  suffer 
its  penalties? 

Hereditary  Disease. 

Since  offspring  are  paramount,  and  since 
their  original  endowments  are  the  great  de 
terminers  of  their  characters ;  therefore  those 
are  most  guilty  who  so  marry  as  to  curse 
them  with  bad  proclivities,  but  most  blessed 
who  confer  good  ones. 

"This  looks  ahead  a  great  way,"  you  say. 

Not  very  far  ahead  of  marriage.  Though 
the  results  of  good  and  of  poor  children  con 
tinue  as  long  as  you  or  any  of  your  descend 
ants  exist,  whether  on  this  side  of  death  or 
the  other,  yet  they  naturally  do  and  should 
begin  soon  after  marriage. 

Again  you  say,  "  For  young  people  to 
thus  canvass  each  other's  parental  qualities 
before  or  during  courtship,  is  at  least  indeli 
cate,  if  not  improper." 


Is  Nature  "  improper "?  Is  rearing  chil 
dren  "  indelicate  "?  Is  providing  for  good 
children  any  more  "  immodest "  than  for 
poor?  All  depends  on  the  manner,  nothing 
on  the  fact.  Nature  makes,  and  therefore 
you  should  make  children  the  specific 


A  SOUR  DYSPEPTIC. 

object  of  all  marriage.  If  this  is  "indeli, 
cate,"  then  is  being  a  male  or  a  female  im 
proper,  and  courting,  loving,  marrying,  and 
bearing  children,  immodest.  She  who  looks 
this  only  legitimate  end  of  marriage  fully  in 
its  philosphic  face  will  make  an  immeasur 
ably  better  wife  and  mother  than  she  could 
possibly  make  if  her  "  mock-modesty"  ignored 
it;  for  this  puts  her  love  on  the  pure,  while 
that  leaves  it  on  the  squeamish  and  therefore 
immodest  plane.  Those  too  delicate  to  ascer 
tain  their  parental  adaptations  to  each  other 
are  but  mockish  prudes,  and  most  indelicate. 
Those  whose  modesty  ignores  this  kind  of 
information,  are  quite  too  modest  to  marry 
or  bear  children  at  all ;  and  to  be  consistent, 
should  never  love,  or  look  at  the  other  sex, 
or  even  be  sexed ;  and  are  welcome  to  the 
results  of  their  fastidiousness. 

Every  stage  of  reproduction,  from  the  fits* 


134 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  ANu  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


dawnings  of  love,  through  selection,  marri- 
.,  paternity,  and   maternity,  is  no  more 


indelicate,  in  itself,  than  sleeping,  except 
that  "as  a  man  thinketh  in  his  heart  so  is 
he."  No;  so  choosing,  loving,  and  marry 
ing  as  to  produce  magnificent  children,  is 
modest ;  while  marrying  for  any  other  motive 
Is  most  decidedly  "immodest" 


MEAN  OLD  MISER. 

You,  young,  pure,  wholesome  girl,  affec 
tionate,  bright,  and  domestic  in  your  tastes, 
should  not  marry  a  man  who  has  bad  habits, 
or  is  ever  likely  to  have  them.  Heaven 
forbid  that  you  should  ever  be  the  wife  of  a 
dissipated  husband. 

Persons  to  be  Avoided. 

You  should  not  receive  the  attentions  of  a 
thin,  sallow-faced,  sour  dyspeptic.  His  foul 
stomach  will  kill  the  health  of  yours:  I 
mean  that  by  his  gloomy,  draggy,  low  vital 
ity  and  cheerless,  dismal  disposition,  he  will 
drive  you  to  dyspepsia  or  something  worse, 
if  there  is  anything  worse,  and  you  will  find 
that  you  might  as  well  go  and  be  a  nurse  in 
a  hospital,  or  live  in  a  graveyard,  as  to 
attempt  to  extract  comfort  and  happiness 
from  your  alliance  with  such  a  living  corpse. 
Seek  a  man  with  good  digestion — round,  full, 


ruddy — if  you  can  find  him,  genial,  as  healta 
is  almost  sure  to  be,  a  live  man,  not  a  half 
dead  one.  And  if  you  are  a  dyspeptic,  you 
certainly  don't  want  a  dyspeptic  husband. 
I  would  rather  have  a  pocket-book  flat  as 
the  traditional  pan-cake  than  to  have  a  caved- 
in  stomach. 

Young  lady,  do  not  marry  a  mean,  miserly 
man.  You  might  almost  as  well  marry  a 
spendthrift,  for  in  either  case  you  will  be 
lucky  if  you  ever  get  hold  of  any  money. 
Men  don't  wear  hair-pins,  nor  feathers,  nor 
ribbons,  nor  lace  and  fringes,  and  a  close- 
fisted,  narrow,  miserly  man  will  begrudge 
every  penny  you  spend.  He  will  grow  mean 
as  he  grows  older.  He  will  tie  up  his  money 
in  an  old  stocking,  and  you  can  go  without 
*f  stockings. 

The  Stingy  Husband. 

There  are  men  who  dig  and  scheme,  and 
almost  work  their  life  out  to  "get  ahead.'1 
It  is  a  remarkably  good  thing  to  get  ahead 
and  have  money  laid  up,  but  not  at  the  ex 
pense  of  present  comforts  and  rational  pleas 
ures.  These  men  toil  as  if  tryirp-  to  keep 
out  of  the  poor-house,  and  lay  up  money, 
Heaven  only  knows  for  what  or  whom. 
They  starve  themselves  and  families,  and 
when  they  are  gone  those  who  get  the 
money  will  buy  for  them  the  cheapest  tomb 
stone  they  can  get,  if  any  at  all.  A  fine 
time  they  have  spending  the  old  man's 
money. 

One  of  these  misers  went  one  day  and  told 
the  undertaker  that  when  he  died  and  the 
undertaker  came  to*  burv  him,  it  must  be  a 
pine  coffin — he  couldn't,  afford  anything 
better.  He  had  become  so  accustomed  to 
having  everything  cheap,  that  he  wanted  to 
die  cheap. 

And  you,  young  man,  look  out  whom  you 
marry.  A  woman  may  be  of  such  an  age 
that  she  is  called  an  "old  maid,"  yet  she  may 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


135 


be  twenty-five  years  younger  in  heart  and 
hope,  courage  and  industry,  than  that  girl 
only  twenty  years  old.  That  girl  of  twenty 
may  be  the  old  maid — crabbed,  sour,  exact 
ing,  stiff — a  creature  to  be  avoided — her 
mouth  eternally  drawn  down  and  her  nose 
turned  up — keep  clear  of  her !  Give  her  a 
wide  berth — in  fact,  let  her  have  it  all  to 
herself.  She  will  be  so  prim  that  neither 
anybody  nor  anything  will  suit  her.  She 
will  freeze  you  in  July.  She  is  an  icicle 
with  a  female  hat  on. 

To  whom  is  such  a  person  suited? 
Nobody.  Neither  is  the  mean  man,  nor 
the  pale  dyspeptic,  nor  the  dissipated  wretch 
whose  hat  and  windows  have  holes  in  them 
big  enough  to  defy  ever  being  stuffed  or 
mended. 

Similarity  the  Cardinal  Requisite. 

Both  must  be  substantially  alike.  Like 
likes  like,  and  affiliates  with  it ;  but  dislikes 
Unlike,  and  fails  to  intermingle  therewith. 
Do  not  elephants  associate  and  mate  with 
elephants,  wolves  with  wolves,  cattle  with 
cattle,  and  all  animals  with  those  of  their 
own  kind,  instead  of  with  other  kinds? 
"Birds  of  a  feather  flock  together."  The 
very  rocks  affiliate  with  their  own  kindred — 
all  granite  here,  all  slate  there,  all  marble 
elsewhere.  And  human  beings  like  their 
kind  better  than  beasts,  and  commune  with 
each  other  better  than  with  brutes.  To 
argue  a  point  thus  clear  is  superfluous. 

Similarity  is  equally  the  attractive  princi 
ple  of  all  special  likes  and  friendships ;  as 
difference  is  the  repelling  of  dislikes.  Do 
not  the  Malay,  Ethiopian,  Caucasian,  and 
Indian  races  mingle  each  with  its  own  race 
more  freely  than  with  any  other?  Those 
who  love  to  chew,  smoke,  stimulate,  swear, 
steal,  think,  pray,  trade,  work,  love  best  to 
associate  with  those  of  similar  proclivities, 
no'  with  those  of  opposite  dispositions. 


Those  of  any  religious  faith  attract  and  are 
attracted  to  those  of  a  like  faith,  as  Catho 
lics,  Baptists,  Mohammedans,  Progressives, 
Prohibitionists.  Clanism  is  but  the  instinct 
ive  outworking  of  this  principle.  Is  not 
similarity  the  great  bond  of  all  affiliation^ 


CRABBED  OLD  MAID. 

likes,  and  friendships ;  and  dissimilarity,  of 
antagonisms?  Not  only  do  philosophers 
fraternize  with  philosophers,  poets  with 
poets,  etc.;  but  individual  men  and  women 
choose  for  intimate  friends  those  as  nearly 
like  themselves  in  tastes,  doctrines,  habits, 
likes,  etc.,  as  possible. 

Are  not  those  whom  friendship's  sacred 
ties  bind  together  drawn  to  each  other  by 
like  traits?  They  love  each  other  because 
each  likes  the  same  things.  Christians  love 
Christians,  but  dislike  atheists;  while  vota 
ries  of  any  science  love  students  of  the  same 
science  best.  Do  you  like  to  commune  best 
with  those  who  perpetually  agree  with,  or 
contradict  you?  Let  facts,  on  the  largest 
and  most  ramified  scale,  attest.  Those  who 


136 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


dispute  this  palpable  fact  are  unworthy  of 
notice. 

Of  love  this  is  especially  true.  Are  not 
its  laws  identical  with  those  of  friendship, 
of  which  it  is  in  part  composed?  Does  not 
love  commence  in,  and  consist  in  part  of  it? 


JOSEPH  W.  FIFER. 

I/arge,  active  brain  ;  nervous — mental  temperament ; 
fine  grain  and  magnetic  force  ;  type  of  self-made  man  ; 
Jate  Governor  of  Illinois. 

This  proves  that  the  laws  of  either  are  those 
of  the  other.  Do  not  men  like  those  women 
best,  and  women  men,  who  are  the  most  like 
themselves  ?  Do  not  those  of  special  beliefs 
love  best  to  commune  with  those  of  the 
same  belief?  Do  talented  men  love  silly 
women,  and  superior  women  weak-minded 
men,  the  most?  Instead,  do  not  intellectual, 
pious,  and  refined  rnen  like  those  women 
best  who  have  like  characteristics?  Do 
lovers  select  each  other  on  account  of  simi 
larities?  or  dissimilarities?  Do  not  those 
who  are  religious  prefer  those  who  love  to 
worship  at  their  own  altar?  Do  alienations 
arise  from  similar,  or  opposite  traits?  Two 
finding  themselves  alike  on  certain  points, 
too  hastily  infer  similarity  on  all  points,  but 


soon  find  those  differences  which  displease 
and  alienate  both.  If  you  were  to  choose 
again,  would  you  select  one  similar,  or  oppo 
site?  As  concordant  notes  delight,  but  dis 
cordant  pain ;  so  with  concordant  and  dis 
cordant  spirits. 

"  Oil  and  Water  will  not  Unite/' 

Those  who  have  more  affection  than  re* 
ligion  can  love  in  spite  of  these  differences; 
while  the  stronger  the  piety,  the  greater  the 
necessity  that  they  be  religiously  alike. 
Even  when  sympathetic  at  marriage,  a 
change  in  either  becomes  a  wall  of  separa 
tion  between  them.  Those  alike  in  other 
respects  may  be  able  to  tolerate  this  differ 
ence  ;  yet  one  who  has  a  low,  short-top  head, 
can  never  satisfy  one  whose  top  head  is  high, 
wide,  and  long.  Paul  well  says,  "Marry, 
but  only  in  the  Lord."  Mark  how  abso 
lutely  these  three  7aws  of  mind  demonstrate 
this  point : 

1.  We  like  what  renders  us  happy,  be 
cause   thereof,    and   in  proportion  thereto; 
but  hate  whatever  makes  us  miserable,  be 
cause  of  this  misery,  and  in  its  proportion. 
This  is  the  only  cause  and  measure  of  all 
likes  and  dislikes,  animal  and  human.     In 
deed,  by  this  involuntary   shrinking  from 
pain,  and  love  of  enjoyment,  nature  drives 
us  from   disobedience,   and   attracts    us   to 
obedience,  of  her  laws;    and  has  therefore 
rendered  it  both  necessary  in  itself,  and  a 
universal  concomitant  of  sensation. 

2.  All  normal  action  of  all  our  faculties 
makes  us  happy,  all  abnormal   miserable; 
and  the  more  so  the  stronger  they  are.    This 
is  a  first  law  and  condition  of  all  happiness 
and  misery. 

3.  Similar  and  normal  faculties  awaken 
each  other  agreeably,  but  dissimilar  and  ab- 
norma1    ones,    disagreeably.      Thus,    large 
ideality  or  taste  delights  large,  and  \s  de 
lighted  by  it,  but  disgusted  by  small ;  and 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


thus  of  each  and  all  the  other  faculties. 
One  large  in  beauty,  and  therefore  de- 
lightQd  with  perfection,  but  disgusted  with 
the  coarse  and  slatternly,  marries  one  who 
has  beauty  also  large,  and  is  therefore  con 
tinually  feasting  his  taste  with  new  manifes 
tations  of  elegance  and  perfection  in  man 
ners,  expression,  and  sentiment;  besides 
pointing  out  to  his  admiring  tastes  a  con 
stant  succession  of  fresh  beauties  in  nature, 
poetry,  and  character ;  thus  perpetually  re- 
increasing  his  happiness  by  inciting  this 
large  faculty ;  his  large  beauty  meanwhile 
as  constantly  delighting  hers;  so  that  their  be 
ing  alike  in  this  respect  is  a  constant  source 
of  happiness,  and  therefore  means  of  love  to 
both.  Whereas,  if  he  marries  one  whose 
deficient  taste  is  constantly  tormenting  liis 
refinement,  while  she  suffers  constant  practi 
cal  reproof  from  his  large  beauty,  or  vice 
z>ersa,  their  dissimilarity  becomes  a  per 
petual  eyesore  to  both.  The  practical  dif 
ference  is  heaven-wide  between  marrying 
one  who  is  similar,  and  dissimilar. 

Mormons  for  Mormons. 

A  pious  woman,  whose  large  worship 
gives  her  exquisite  pleasure  in  devotion, 
marries  one  who  takes  equal  pleasure  in  the 
same  worship,  both  enjoying  all  the  more 
pleasure  in  each  other,  because  they  love  to 
worship  the  same  God,  "under  the  same 
vines  and  fig-trees."  Her  worship  reawak 
ens  his,  which  makes  him  happy  in  her,  and 
therefore  love  her  ;  while  his,  by  reawaken 
ing  hers,  continually  renders  her  happy  in 
him,  and  therefore  increases  her  love  for 
him  ;  whereas  if  he  is  an  atheist,  this  differ 
ence  abrades  and  pains  her  worship,  makes 
her  unhappy  in  him,  and  compels  her  to 
dislike  him  ;  while  his,  regarding  her  piety 
as  superstition,  detracts  from  his  happiness 
in,  and  therefore  love  for,  her ;  and  this  re 
ligious  discord  impairs  their  union  in  other 


respects.  Hence,  every  sect  enjoins  marry 
ing  within  itself,  as  Mormons,  Catholics, 
Quakers,  and  many  others,  to  avoid  spats  and 
quarrels  which  would  otherwise  surely  occur. 
If  either  loves  to  ride  fast,  and  the  other 
slow,  how  can  they  possibly  ride  togethei 
without  making  one  or  the  other  unhappy  ? 


THEODORE  THOMAS. 

Motive  temperament ;  well-balanced  physique ;  well 
known  musical  director ;  adapted  to  one  who  is  simi 
larly  an  enthusiast  in  music. 

When  one  loves  dress,  parties,  stylev 
gayety,  or  fashion,  and  the  other  considers 
them  foolish,  or  regards  them  with  aversion, 
can  they  be  as  happy  in  each  other,  and 
therefore  love  each  other  as  well  as  if  both 
liked  or  disliked  the  same  things  ?  If  both 
take  delight  in  pursuing  the  same  studies 
together,  will  not  this  mutual  delight  rendei 
them  much  happier  in  each  other,  and  there* 
fore  more  affectionate,  than  if  one  liked  but 
the  other  disliked  the  same  books?  Did 
not  Milton's  conjugal  difficulty  grow  out  of 
tffo-similarity  ?  He  was  talented,  philo 
sophical,  poetical ;  but  his  wife  despised 
what  he  liked,  and  liked  those  gaye^fes 
which  he  contemned. 


13* 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


If  one  loves  rural  or  city  life  the  best, 
both  should  love  the  same  life  ;  but  if  either 
loves  fruits,  or  flowers,  or  stock  best,  the 
other's  loving  the  same  will  promote  their 
union,  while  disliking  it  will  alienate  both. 
If  one,  having  large  conscience,  scrupu 
lously  loves  the  right  and  hates  the  wrong, 
while  the  other,  having  it  small,  cares  little 
for  either,  and  is  constantly  upbraiding  the 
moral  sense  of  the  other,  how  can  they  live 
as  happily  and  lovingly  together  as  if  both 
were  either  scrupulous  or  unscrupulous? 
Can  he  whose  large  order  is  delighted  by 
method,  and  pained  by  disorder,  be  as  happy 
in,  or  loving  with,  her  whose  small  order  is 
perpetually  leaving  everything  in  complete 
confusion,  as  if  both  liked  order,  or  cared 
little  for  it  ?  If  one  believes  in  free  love, 
should  not  both  give  and  take  the  largest 
liberties?  And  what  is  jealousy,  with  all 
its  aggravated  miseries,  but  dissimilarity  in 
this  essential  respect?  Is  not  similarity > 
even  in  the  wrong,  more  promotive  of  con 
jugal  concord,  than  if  one  is  right  and  the 
other  wrong,  or  either  condemns  what  the 
other  likes?  Do  marked  differences  render 
the  differing  the  more  happy  when  loving 
each  other,  or  the  less  so  ?  Let  all  who  love 
attest. 

The  Cause  of  Strife. 

Do  you,  who  are  unhappy,  repel  each  other 
•wherein  you  agree,  or  afoagree?  Do  you 
love  the  more  the  more  you  differ,  or  the 
less?  Are  you  unhappy  because  alike,  or 
unlike  ?  Do  not  opposite  views  always  and 
necessarily  engender  alienations?  In  a  di 
vorce  suit,  do  their  similarity,  or  afo-simi- 
larity  cause  their  collision?  Say,  further, 
you  who  are  happily  mated,  does  not  your 
own  blessed  experience  attest  that  you  are 
happy  in,  and  therefore  fond  of,  each  other 
wherein,  because,  and  in  proportion  as,  you 
^  instead  of  unlike  ? 


Of  the  social  affections,  this  is  doubly 
true.  Let  a  public  example  both  prove  and 
illustrate  this  point.  Many  years  ago  a  fair 
actress  captivated  a  millionaire,  who  followed 
her  from  city  to  city,  and  continent  to  con= 
tinent,  strewing  her  stage  with  rich  bouquets 
and  presents,  and  everywhere  tendering  hei 
his  hand,  heart  and  immense  fortune,  till 
finally,  to  get  rid  of  his  importunities,  she 
married  him ;  and  yet  this  very  suitor  sued 
for  a  divorce,  because,  loving  her  with  pas 
sionate  fondness,  he  required  a  like  affection 
ate  ardor  in  return  ;  yet  her  barely  tolerating 
his  ardor,  instead  of  reciprocating  it,  first 
chilled,  then  reversed  his  love,  turning  his 
ardor  into  animosity,  till  he  hated  her  as  pas 
sionately  as  he  had  before  loved ;  whereas,  if 
she  had  loved  him  as  heartily  as  he  her, 
their  mutual  happiness  and  love  would  have 
been  proportionately  complete.  As  well  wed 
summer  to  winter,  or  ice  to  fire,  as  those 
who  are  passionate  to  those  passionless  ;  or 
those  who  love  to  caress  and  be  caressed,  to 
those  who  are  distant  and  reserved  ;  or  one 
gushing  and  glowing,  to  one  who  is  stoical. 
Unite,  they  never  can. 

"  Birds  of  a  Feather." 

Nature's  universal  motto  is,  "  Each  after 
its  own  kind. "  She  absolutely  must  inter 
dict  hybridism,  except  to  a  limited  degree,  so 
as  to  preserve  each  respective  class  of  her  pro 
ductions  separate  from  all  others.  Universal 
amalgamation  would  spoil  all.  She  both 
keeps  her  human  productions  separate  from 
all  others,  and  produces  the  finest  speci 
mens  of  manhood  and  womanhood  by  the 
intermixture  of  those  who  are  sound  in 
health,  suited  to  each  other  in  taste,  in 
intelligence,  and  able  to  agree,  thus 
living  harmoniously  together  in  true 
affection  ;  and  the  children  of  dissimilar 
parentage  can  almost  always  be  desig 
nated  by  their  imperfect  phrenologies. 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


139 


and  physiologies,  and  tendencies  to  hobby- 
isms  and  extremes,  while  those  of  similar 
parentage  are  homogeneous  and  harmonious. 
Dissimilarities  Which  Improve  Love. 

But  some  one  says :  "  You  certainly 
misrepresent  that  Nature  you  claim  to  en 
throne  ;  for  contrasts  really  do  affiliate. 
The  grave  frequently  love  the  gay,  and 
gay  the  grave.  How  often  do  the  stork- 
like  prefer  the  dowdy ;  spare,  fleshy ;  posi 
tive,  negative ;  Hibernian,  stoical ;  deter 
mined,  submissive  ;  slovenly,  tidy  ;  talk 
ative,  demure  ;  and  talented  men,  affection 
ate  women  ;  common  men,  uncommon  wo 
men.  Is  not  this  acknowledged  Anglo- 
Saxon  superiority  traceable  directly  to  the 
wholesale  intermingling  of  the  ancient 
Britons,  Picts,  Celts,  and  Romans,  both  with 
each  other,  and  the  Normans,  Danes,  and 
many  more  ?  Nations  not  thus  crossed,  are 
either  stationary  or  declining,  like  Spain, 
India,  and  all  Eastern  nations.  Is  not  this 
influx  of  foreigners  from  all  Europe,  Asia, 
and  Africa  into  our  country  its  most  auspi 
cious  omen  of  future  development?  Has 
not  this  very  crossing  law  already  effected 
all  those  recent  astonishing  improvements 
attained  throughout  the  animal  kingdom, 
and  even  the  floral  and  pomal?  Did  not 
Van  Mons  originate  every  one  of  his  deli 
cious  kinds  of  pears,  now  the  pride  of  horti 
culture  and  diet  of  epicurean  princes,  by  ju 
dicious  crossings,  yet  not  one  by  similarity  ? 
Astonishing  improvements  have  been,  and 
may  be,  effected  by  this  same  union  of  op- 
posites,  instead  of  similarities.  Something 
is  wrong  somewhere.  " 

Parental  balance  is  the  great  condition  of 
progenal  perfection.  Proportion  is  a  para 
mount  natural  law.  Nature  maintains  equi 
libriums  throughout  all  her  productions  and 
functions.  All  vegetable  and  sylvan  roots 
and  tops  are  and  must  be  in  proportion  to 


each  other  ;  because  each  produces  the  other. 
Cut  off  either  without  also  amputating  the 
other,  and  you  damage  it  that  much.  Cut 
down  the  top,  and  the  root  dies  from  self- 
gorging  ;  or  amputate  roots,  as  in  transplant 
ing  trees,  without  trimming  top  equally,  and 


NORSE   SEA-KING. 

Strong  masculine  organization,  with  prominent 
nose,  brawny  muscles  and  resolute  bearing ;  splendid 
type  of  force,  will,  daring,  and  ability  to  rule. 

they  languish  ;  but  cut  off  as  much  top  in 
resetting  as  root  in  digging  up,  and  they 
scarcely  mind  the  change.  Exercise^  breath 
ing,  digestion,  circulation,  perspiration,  ex 
cretion,  sleep,  etc.,  always  are  and  must  be 
in  proportion  to  each  other.  Increasing  01 
diminishing  exercise  increases  or  diminishes 
them  all.  Head  and  body  must  be  equally 
balanced  as  to  each  other ;  else  precocity  or 
obesity  ensues ;  and  all  the  mental  powers 
must  be  equilibrious  to  all ;  else  a  warped 
judgment,  and  idiosyncrasy  of  character  and 
conduct  must  follow.  The  whole,  not  merely 
a  part,  is  to  be  considered. 

Nature  works  wonders  in  maintaining  this 
balance  where  it  exists,  and  establishing  it 


140 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


wnere  it  does  not.  She  will  not  let  one  part 
of  any  of  her  productions  greatly  predomin 
ate  over  the  other  parts;  but  ordains  that 
there  shall  be  about  as  much  strength  in  the 
stomach  as  head,  and  in  the  heart  and  mus 
cles  as  either,  but  no  more  in  either  than  in 


AN  IDIOT. 


Offspring  of  two  sluggish  parents,  both  weak  ment 
ally  and  physically. 

all  the  others  ;  and  strive  to  bring  whatever 
is  seriously  disproportionate  back  to  equili 
brium. 

To  create  it  along  with  life  is  her  great  aim. 
And  she  begins  early — in  and  by  love's  selec 
tions  themselves ;  causing  those  who  are  in 
balance  to  choose  those  like  themselves,  and 
those  not,  to  select  those  who  offset  their  ex 
tremes,  mental  and  physical.  Both  the  law 
itself  and  the  end  subserved,  seem  almost  too 
plain  to  need  even  illustration  ;  yet  the  su 
perlative  importance  of  this  law  demands  our 
giving  enough  examples  of  it  to  make  it  fully 
understood.  The  more  so,  since  it  will  show 
many  discordants  that,  and  why,  their  very 
"  bones  of  contention  "  should  be  gnawed  to 
gether  amicably,  as  having  a  great  deal  of 
conjugal  meat  on  them  for  their  mutual  rel 
ish  and  nourishment. 

Both  doctrines  are  substantially  correct 
That  of  similarity  is  applicable  to  one  set  of 


cases,  while  that  of  dissimilarity  is  tne  l 
of  another.  Principles  thus  important,  and 
governing  human  interests  as  momentous  as 
love,  selection,  and  offspring,  deserve  those 
copious  illustrations  which  shall  show  pre 
cisely  what  qualities  each  one  should  select. 
From  a  task  thus  critical,  one  might  well 
shrink,  unless  guided  by  unmistakable 
natural  laws. 

"When  Physical  Dissimilarities  are  Best. 

Nature  has  her  inside  and  outside  circles, 
which  man  must  not  transcend,  but  within 
which  she  allows  full  liberty.  Thus  those 
about  average  in  height  and  weight  may 
marry  those  who  are  about  average,  or  in 
either  extreme;  while  those  in  either  ex 
treme  should  marry  opposites,  in  order  to 
average  their  children.  Thus  very  tall  men 
love  very  short  women,  in  order  that  then 
children  may  be  neither ;  whereas,  if  very 
tall  men  should  marry  very  tall  women,  this 
doubling  would  render  their  children  incon 
veniently  spindling. 

Coarse,  powerful,  loggy,  and  easy  tempera 
ments  must  not  marry  similar,  lest  their 
children  be  still  lower.  The  accompanying 
engraving,  of  one  of  four  idiotic  children,, 
furnishes  a  practical  illustration  of  the  evils 
of  the  union  of  two  low  ones.  Though 
both  his  parents  passed  tolerably  well  in 
society,  and  were  fairly  sensible  and  in 
telligent,  yet  all  their  children  were  non 
compos  mentis,  and  this  one  so  much  a  fool 
that  he  could  never  even  feed  himself, 
whereas,  if  each  parent  had  married  a  more 
spicy  temperament,  their  children  would 
doubtless  have  been  brighter  and  better 
than  themselves,  instead  of  as  now,  lower. 

How  often  are  a  strong,  robust,  coarse, 
shaggy-locked,  red-faced,  powerful  man,  and 
most  exquisitely  susceptible,  fme-giaineds 
delicate,  refined,  and  pure-minded  woman} 
drawn  together?  One  would  think  hej 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


dtficacy  would  revolt  at  his  coarseness,  and 
his  power  despise  her  exquisiteness.  What 
attracts  them?  Her  need  of  animality. 
By  presupposition  her  delicate  organism  has 
about  exhausted  her  sparse  fund  of  vitality, 
so  that  she  is  perishing  for  want  of  this 
first  requisite  of  life,  and  naturally  gravitates 
to  one  who  eliminates  sufficient  animal  mag 
netism  to  support  both  ;  so  that  she  literally 
lives  on  his  surplus  animal  warmth  and  vital 
ity,  he  being  all  the  better  for  this  draft; 
while  she  pays  him  back  by  refining  and 


a  double  amount  of  energy  over  those  who 
are  either  small  and  excitable,  or  large  and 
sluggish.  Great  sizes,  along  with  extreme 
susceptibility,  expend  too  much  power,  ?,nd 
hence  should  intermarry  with  those  at  k-ast 
good-sized,  in  order  to  balance  their  trndue 
ardor  with  the  other's  coolness  and  power. 
If  escorting  a  woman  of  more  commanding 
appearance  than  himself  should  mortify  a 
small  man,  he  should  feel  proud  that  he 
could  win  one  his  physical  superior,  and  had 
better  mortify  himself  a  little,  than,  hi* 


MISMATED. 

Both  nervous,  lean,  irritable,  dyspeptic ;  constant  frictions  in  married  life,  each  exasperating  the 
Other;  not  suited  to  each  other ;  each  should  have  married  one  more  robust,  patient  and  amiable. 


devating  him;  and  their  children  inherit 
his  powerful  animal  organism,  along  with 
her  exquisite  taste  and  moral  tone ;  and  are 
therefore  far  better  than  if  both  parents  were 
powerfully  animalized,  or  both  exquisitely 
emotional. 

"What  Sizes  Should  Mate. 
Size  is  one  measure  of  power,  and  nervous 
Excitability,  of  its  expenditure.     Hence  those 
Who  are  both  large  and  excitable  will  expend 


children  always.  Yet  she  need  not  exceed 
him  much  in  stature,  especially  if  prominent- 
featured  and  rather  large  framed ;  for  a  good- 
sized  woman  is  but  little  larger  than  a  small 
sized  man.  Yet  the  wife  of  a  large  man' 
really  should  have  a  large  mouth,  and  a 
tough,  enduring  temperament,  with  good 
muscles. 

Tom  Thumb,  a  dwarf  himself,  confessed 
to  a  most  marked  preference  for  good-sized 


142 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


women ;  and  his  child  by  his  dwarf  wife 
weighed  only  two  pounds  at  birth,  lingered, 
and  died. 

"  lyittle  folks"  must  not  marry  little,  unless 
they  are  willing  to  have  still  smaller  children ; 
but  must  marry  good-sized,  and  their  chil 
dren  will  be  medium. 

I,  so  very  excitable  that  my  surplus  exci 
tability  becomes  a  source  of  pain  to  me, 
marry  a  woman  equally  excitable.  Of  course 
her  excitability  perpetually  provokes  mine, 
which  thus  makes  me  miserable  with  her, 
which  makes  me  dislike  her;  while  mine 
redoubles  hers,  which  makes  her  miserable 
with  me,  which  makes  her  dislike  me; 
while  our  children,  if  we  had  any,  besides 
being  so  extremely  fiery-tempered  that  there 
is  no  doing  anything  with  them,  would  also 
be  so  irritable  physically  that  the  first  breath 
of  disease  would  blow  them  into  a  premature 
grave  in  a  day.  They  would  die  almost 
before  we  knew  they  were  sick;  whereas, 
per  contra,  if  I  marry  a  calm,  patient 
woman,  whose  quiet,  gentle,  forbearing  tones 
and  spirit  soothe  my  excitability,  this  would 
make  me  happy  in  her,  and  therefore  love 
her;  while  my  surplus  excitability  would 
tone  up  her  passivity,  which  would  make 
her  happy  in  me,  and  therefore  love  me; 
and  both  contribute  greatly  to  our  having 
children,  render  them  midway  between 
both,  well-balanced,  and  both  likely  to  live, 
and  harmonious  and  excellent ;  besides  their 
soothing  me,  and  exhilarating  her.  Two 
very  excitable  persons  rarely  produce  chil 
dren;  that  very  fire  which  would  render 
their  issue  poor,  cutting  off  their  power  to 
have  any. 

Tom  Thumb  and  Commodore  Nutt  furnish 
like  applications  of  this  prevention  as  to  size. 
This  illustration  expounds  a  law  applicable 
to  all  the  extremes  of  all,  which  should 
govern  all  marital  selections.  You  violate 


it  at  your  own,  mate's  and  children's  peril. 
How  beautiful  nature's  plan  for  preventing 
poor  children,  and  obviating  the  faults,  and 
promoting  the  excellences,  of  all  future  gen 
erations.  Mark  our  next  point  as  bearing 
on  this. 

Should  Those  Tainted  with  Disease  Marry,* 
and  Whom? 

Shall  those  tainted  with  any  diseases  or 
deformities,  physical  or  mental,  or  those 
hereditarily  predisposed  to  theft,  lust,  or  any 
other  vices,  be  allowed,  or  allow  themselves 
to  marry? 

Rev.  Dr.  Bartoll,  an  excellent  authority, 
says :  "If  we  would  have  no  monsters  about 
us,  let  not  idiots  or  insane  pair,  or  scrofulous 
or  consumptives,  those  soaked  in  alcohol  or 
conceived  in  lust,  entering  the  world  dis 
eased  in  body  or  mind,  or  overweighed  with 
any  propensity  or  passion,  be  allowed  to 
marry,  any  more  than  we  would  have  a  nur 
sery  for  wolves  and  bears,  or  cultivate  poj* 
soiious  ivy,  deadly  night-shade,  or  apple-fern 
in  the  inclosures  of  our  houses,  our  yards 
and  fields.  Society,  by  righteous  custom,  if 
not  by  statute  law,  has  a  right  to  prevent, 
to  forbid  the  multiplication  of  monstrous 
specimens  of  humanity.  That  mewling, 
puking,  drooling,  wailing  baby  ought  not  tc 
exist ;  it  is  no  blessing,  but  a  curse  of  nature 
and  God  on  the  misdoing  cf  men  and  wo 
men." 

George  Combe  takes  like,  though  not 
equally  extreme  ground ;  and  himself  post 
poned  marriage  and  married  a  wife  after 
both  were  too  old  to  become  parents,. 
Thousands  entertain  like  views,  and  abstain 
from  marriage  lest  they  entail  diseases  or 
deformities  on  issue.  Some  go  even  further, 
and  argue  that  only  the  best  should  be  al 
lowed  to  procreate,  as  in  animals.  This 
question  is  too  personally  important  to  too 
many  not  to  be  adjudicated  on  first  principles. 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


143 


Most  who  can,  may  multiply;  because 
progeny  is  as  natural  a  birthright  as  eating. 
All  our  faculties  were  created  only  to  act. 
As  a  right  to  exercise  lungs,  stomach,  mus 
cles,  eyes,  etc.,  accompanies  their  bestowal; 
so  a  right  to  exercise  every  mental  faculty 
inheres  in  their  birthright  possession.  Shall 
human  authority  forbid  what  divine  more 
than  permits — imperiously  commands,  and 
even  necessitates? 

How  can  society  prevent?  Those  inter 
dicted  would  rebel,  and  seek  clandestinely 
that  intercourse  forbidden  them  by  law,  and 
leave  illegitimate  issue  if  denied  legitimate. 
Shall  the  law  many  only  those  men  and 
women  sexually  and  morally  vigorous?  and 
emasculate  all  inferior  boy  babies?  How 
would  it  be  possible  to  draw  the  lines  impar 
tially  as  to  who  should  and  who  should  not 
suffer  the  surrender  of  these  marital  rights? 
Or  what  their  rules  of  allowing  and  inter 
dicting?  The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  such 
a  course  are  insurmountable. 

Nature  Does  Her  Work  Well. 

God  adjudicates  this  identical  matter  by 
His  natural  law,  in  rendering  childless  all 
who  cannot  have  children  much  better  than 
none.  Harlots  rarely  become  mothers,  be 
cause  their  depravities  would  make  their 
issue  worthless.  All  infants  endowed  with 
strength  enough  to  be  born,  can,  by  proper 
regimen,  attain  a  full  human  life,  and  die  of 
old  age.  Nature  will  not  begin  what  she 
cannot  consummate,  provided  she  is  allowed 
her  own  facilities,  and  generally  interdicts 
parentage  to  those  either  too  young,  too  old, 
too  debilitated,  or  diseased  anywhere,  or  de 
formed,  or  depraved,  to  impart  sufficient  of 
all  the  human  functions  to  enable  their  chil 
dren,  by  a  right  hygiene,  to  live  to  a  good 
age,  and  well  worthy  to  inhabit  her  "  prem 
ises."  By  this  simple  arrangement  she  fore 
stalls  all  those  diseases,  deformities,  and 


marked  imperfections  which  would  other 
wise  impair,  if  not  spoil,  universal  humanity. 
"  Passably  good,  or  none ;  nothing,  rather 
than  bad,"  are  her  mottoes.  When  God 
thus  speaks,  let  man  silently  acquiesce ;  nor 
human  law  interdict  what  natural  law  both 
licenses  and  enjoins. 

Marrying  opposites,  the  point  we  are  urg 
ing,  will  generally  give  good  children,  if  any, 
or  at  least  the  luxury  of  marriage. 

Two  extremely  excitable  persons  are  not 
likely  to  become  parents  together,  especially 
if  both  are  extra  amorous ;  whereas,  both 
could  be  fruitful  with  a  calm,  cool  partner. 
Two  predisposed  to  consumption  might  be 
barren,  or  have  consumptive  children;  yet, 
by  marrying  robust  partners,  parent  good 
children. 

Weakness  Should  Marry  Strength. 

By  a  right  application  of  this  law,  those 
predisposed  to  insanity  may  become  the  pa 
rents  of  perfectly  healthy  children.  Indeed, 
talanted  men  are  often  descended  from  a 
family  so  extremely  susceptible  on  one  side 
as  to  be  almost  crack-brained,  but  on  the 
other  endowed  with  extreme  physical  hardi 
hood;  their  children  inheriting  their  men 
tality  from  the  highly  organized  side,  along 
with  the  physiology  of  the  hardy ;  whereas, 
if  both  parents  had  been  thus  gifted,  their 
offspring  would  not  have  possessed  sufficient 
animal  power  to  manifest  their  commanding 
talents,  but  have  died  on  the  threshold  of 
distinction ;  so  that  even  insane  proclivities 
need  not  be  an  absolute  bairier  to  marriage 
with  a  stoical  or  phlegmatic  person. 

Those  of  consumptive  tendency  may  mar 
ry,  but  only  opposites.  If  such  a  man  mar 
ries  a  woman  having  extra  good  lungs,  she 
will  both  supply  him  with  needed  vitality, 
and  also  transmit  good  lungs  to  their  mutual 
children,  who  will  inherit  from  him  that 
mentality  which  accompanies  consumptive 


144 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


proclivities,  superadded  to  her  abundant 
vitality,  and  may  entirely  escape  all  con 
sumptive  proclivities,  as  though  born  of 
parents  having  no  consumptive  taint.  By  a 
judicious  application  of  this  law,  all  other 
hereditary  tendencies  may  be  obviated,  and 
<2ven  replaced  with  excellent  characteristics. 


JAMES  RANDOLPH. 


Slim  neck ;  long  face ;  sharp  features  ;  type  of  "  old- 
fashioned  consumptive ;  "  unfortunate  organization. 

All  required  is,  that  when  either  is  weakly 
or  unsound  in  any  particular  respect,  the 
other  should  be  sound  and  vigorous  in  this 
same  respect.  Like  weaknesses  in  the  other 
party  must  by  all  means  be  scrupulously 
avoided.  Or  even  one  parent  may  be  pre 
disposed  to  one  disease,  and  the  other  to 
another,  yet  their  children  escape  both,  pro 
vided  the  predisposition  in  each  is  offset  by 
<&pposite  physical  qualities  in  the  other ; 
though  when  not  thus  onset,  they  are  in 
great  danger  of  inheriting  the  diseases  of 
both.  But  when  both  parents  are  predis 
posed  to  consumption,  their  children  are 
still  more  so. 


A  spare,  thin-chested,  consumptive  neigh 
bor,  who  married  into  a  consumptive  family, 
buried  his  wife  of  consumption  after  she  had 
borne  seven  children,  and  has  buried  his  last 
child  but  one  of  this  disease,  two  lovely 
daughters  on  the  eve  of  marriage,  and  ex» 
pects  every  spring  to  bury  this  remaining 
one,  thus  inflicting  untold  agony  on  himself 
and  his  entire  family ;  whereas,  if  he  had 
selected  a  well-vitalized  wife,  all  his  children 
would  have  been  born  robust,  and  lived  to 
bless  themselves,  him,  and  mankind.  Mean 
while,  he  piously  regards  this  penalty  of  a 
broken  natural  law  as  a  "dispensation  of 
divine  Providence. "  What  pious  blas 
phemy'  What  a  libel  on  the  Divine 
government ! 

To  illustrate  through  the  eye:  James 
Randolph,  a  brilliant  writer,  died  of  con 
sumption;  and  his  subjoined  likeness  furn 
ishes  a  good  illustration  of  those  hered 
itarily  tainted  with  this  disease;  namely, 
spare,  slim,  thin-faced  and  lipped,  long-faced, 
sharp-featured,  and  sunken  below  the  eyes. 
Now,  let  him  marry  one  having  a  robust 
form.  Yet  he  must  not  dare  marry  Miss 
Slim,  though  much  the  smarter  woman. 

Of  course  all  should  be  the  more  thankful 
the  better  constituted  they  are ;  yet  those 
least  endowed  should  exult  in  possessing  even 
the  poorest  constitutions,  rather  than  none, 
and  make  the  best  of  what  they  have. 
What  Parents  Transmit. 

Nature  never  transmits  disease,  but  only 
weakly  organs.  Thus  the  children  of  parents, 
however  consumptive,  are  seldom  born  with 
diseased  lungs,  but  only  with  them  small,  or 
susceptible ;  so  that  if  they  generate  disease 
by  violating  the  health  laws,  it  settles  on 
these  weak  organs,  and  superinduces  disease. 
The  real  cause  of  their  death  is  not  heredi 
tary  proclivities,  but  infractions  of  the  health 
laws,  without  which  this  hereditary  tendency 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER.  145 


would  have  remained  dormant.  Nature  will 
not  transmit  any  actual  disease,  local  or 
general,  but  only  weakness  or  susceptibility. 
And  then  she  counterbalances  even  these,  by 
always  obliging  strong  organs  to  succor  weak 
ones  ;  and  likewise  by  causing  the  weakest 
to  grow  the  fastest;  on  the  principle  that 
over-eating  induces  sleep,  by  withdrawing 
energy  from  the  brain,  nerves,  and  muscles 
to  aid  the  over-taxed  stomach.  And  linger 
ing  diseases  consume  all  the  strong  and 
sound  organs  before  death  ensues.  Weakly 
organs,  when  the  health-laws  are  fulfilled, 
grow  stronger  with  age ;  thus  both  repelling 
disease,  and  completing  a  good,  fair  human 
life.  How  often  do  feeble  children,  by  virtue 
of  this  law  of  growth,  become  stronger  as 
they  grow  older,  and  make  healthy  adults  ? 

What  Deformities  are,  and  are  not, 
Obj  ectionable. 

This  principle  applies  to  all  other  diseased 
proclivities,  yet  is  too  obvious  to  need  am 
plification  in  a  physical  direction.  There 
fore  few  need  abstain  from  marriage  lest 
they  taint  their  issue ;  yet  those  thus  tainted 
absolutely  must  marry  opposites;  and  then 
cultivate  both  their  own  and  children's  weak 
organs.  These  two  simple  conditions,  car 
ried  out,  would  rid  the  world,  in  the  very 
next  generation,  of  all  forms  and  degrees 
of  hereditary  diseases.  How  beautiful  is  this 
natural  provision,  and  how  infinitely  impor 
tant,  yet  almost  wholly  overlooked ! 

Of  looks  we  say  nothing,  because  each 
can  judge  for  him  and  herself  how  far  their 
tastes  are  offended  by  this  deformity  and  that. 
Their  impairment  of  issue  alone  concerns 
our  subject.  Of  this  there  is  little  danger. 
The  children  of  those  whose  teeth  have 
been  extracted  have  just  as  good  teeth  as 
others ;  and  thus  of  amputated  limbs,  lost 
eyes,  etc.  Maimed  soldiers  will  have  just  as 
good  children  as  if  they  had  not  been 

10 


maimed.  The  children  of  humpbacks,  male 
and  female,  will  be  just  as  straight-backed  as 
if  their  parents  were  straight.  The  children 
of  a  woman  with  one  leg  shortened  by  a 
sprain,  or  a  white  swelling,  are  no  more 
likely  to  be  similarly  deformed  than  if  both 
her  limbs  were  alike. 


ANIMAL  ORGANISM. 

Low  intellect ;  sensual  features ;  bad  temper ;  type  «l 
human  brute. 

Birth-marks,  such  as  facial  and  other 
blotches,  club-feet,  etc.,  rarely  descend.  Any 
girl  is  just  as  marriageable  with  them  as 
without.  Yet  such  poor  girls  are  usually 
"let  alone"  by  men,  for  they  love  physical 
perfection  in  women  ;  who  love  those  men 
deformed  about  as  well  as  if  they  were  per 
fect. 

These  birth-marks  are  objectionable  which 
penetrate  the  grain,  and  injure  the  organism. 
Those  whose  mother's  fright  sapped  their 
brain  and  blunted  their  senses  will  parent 
flats,  if  any.  But  a  sexually  healthy  hump 
back  girl  will  bear  better  children  than  a 
straight  one  sexually  impaired. 

Temperaments,  Forms,  Noses,  etc. 

Since  few  have  well-balanced  heads  or 
bodies,  most  require  to  marry  their  opposites 
in  one  or  more  respects.  Almost  all  have 
too  much  brain  for  body,  or  body  for  brain ; 


146 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


or  else  too  much  or  too  little  respiration,  or 
digestion,  or  circulation,  or  muscle,  for  their 
other  physical  functions. 

Those  who  are  medium  in  complexion, 
stature,  etc.,  who  are  neither  extra  dark  nor 
light,  large  nor  small,  tall  nor  short,  lean  nor 
fat,  etc.,  may  marry  those  who  are  medium, 
Or  nearly  like  themselves  in  these  respects, 
or  in  either  extreme,  or  a  little  more  or  less 
so  than  themselves.  Thus,  those  whose  hair 
is  neither  dark  nor  light,  but  about  midway 
between  both,  may  marry  those  who  are  a 
shade  darker  or  lighter  than  themselves,  or 
a  good  deal  darker  or  lighter,  or  even  jet 
black  or  bright  red,  as  they  may  fancy,  or  as 
other  circumstances  may  favor  most,  the 
complexion  being  not  especially  material ; 
yet  the  darker  one  is,  the  lighter  his  or  her 
companion  should  be. 

Certain  Opposites  Should  Combincc 

Bright  red  hair  should  marry  jet  black,  and 
Jet  black  auburn,  or  bright  red.  And  the 
more  red-faced  and  bearded  or  impulsive  a 
man,  the  more  dark,  calm,  cool  and  quiet 
should  his  wife  be ;  and  vice  versa.  The 
florid  should  not  marry  the  florid,  but  those 
who  are  dark  in  proportion  as  they  them 
selves  are  light. 

Red-whiskered  men  should  marry  bru 
nettes  but  not  blondes  ;  the  color  of  the 
whiskers  being  more  determinate  of  the  tem 
perament  than  that  of  the  hair. 

The  color  of  the  eyes  is  still  more  impor 
tant.  Gray  eyes  must  marry  some  other 
color,  almost  any  other,  except  gray  ;  and  so 
of  blue,  dark,  hazel,  etc. 

Those  very  fleshy  should  not  marry  those 
'equally  so,  but  those  too  spare  and  slim ;  and 
this  is  doubly  true  of  females.  A  spare  man 
is  much  better  adapted  to  a  fleshy  woman 
than  a  round-favored  man.  Two  who  are 
short,  thick-set,  and  stocky,  should  not  unite 
in  marriage,  but  should  choose  those  differ 


ently  constituted ;  but  on  no  account  one  &/ 
their  own  make.  And,  in  general,  those 
predisposed  to  corpulence  are  therefore  less 
inclined  to  marriage. 

Those  with  little  hair  or  beard  should 
marry  those  whose  hair  is  naturally  abun 
dant  ;  still,  those  who  once  had  plenty,  but 
who  have  lost  it,  may  marry  those  who  are 
either  bald  or  have  but  little  ;  for  in  this,  as 
in  all  other  cases,  all  depends  on  what  one 
is  by  Nature,  little  on  present  states. 

Those  whose  motive-temperament  decidedly 
predominates,  who  are  bony,  only  moderately 
fleshy,  quite  prominent-featured,  Roman- 
nosed,  and  muscular,  should  not  marry  those 
similarly  formed,  but  those  either  sanguine 
or  nervous,  or  a  compound  of  both  ;  for  be 
ing  more  strong  than  susceptible  or  emo 
tional,  they  both  require  that  their  own  emo 
tions  should  be  perpetually  prompted  by  an 
emotional  companion,  and  that  their  children 
also  be  endowed  with  the  emotional  from  the 
other  parent.  That  is,  those  who  are  cool 
should  marry  those  who  are  impulsive  and 
susceptible. 

Small,  nervous  men  must  not  marry  little 
nervous  or  sanguine  women,  lest  both  they 
and  their  children  have  quite  too  much  of 
the  hot-headed  and  impulsive,  and  die  sud 
denly.  Generally,  ladies  who  are  small  are 
therefore  more  eagerly  sought  than  large. 
Of  course  this  general  fact  has  its  exceptions. 
Some  are  small  hereditarily,  others  rendered 
so  by  extra  action  in  some  form,  over-study, 
over-work,  or  passional  excitement ;  because 
during  growth,  their  intense  nervous  systems 
consumed  energy  faster  than  their  weak  vital 
could  manufacture  it ;  which  dwarfed  their 
stature. 

Webster  preferred  little  women ;  he  coarsej 
they  fine ;  he  powerful,  they  susceptible ;  his 
love  animal,  theirs  more  sentimental;  h* 
forcible  ' ^ley  ^liant  Short,  rotund,  srnaU 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


boned  women  attract  and  are  attracted  to 
tall  and  spare  men;  while  slender  women 
absolutely  must  wed  stocky,  wide-jowled, 
broad-shouldered  men. 

Two  very  beautiful  persons  rarely  do  or 
should  marry ;  nor  two  extra  homely.  The 
feet  is  a  little  singular  that  very  handsome 
women,  who  of  course  can  have  their  pick, 
rarely  marry  good-looking  men,  but  gener 
ally  give  preference  to  those  who  are  homely ; 
because  that  exquisiteness  in  which  beauty 
originates,  naturally  blends  with  that  power 
which  accompanies  huge  noses,  and  dispro 
portionate  features. 

Psyche  loved  Apollo  desperately,  says 
Mythology,  on  account  of  his  beauty.  Now 
this  must  hive  been  purely  imaginary.  No 
woman  thu^  beautiful  ever  loved  a  handsome 
man,  if  she  could  find  any  other.  Psyche 
would  naturally  choose  a  man  of  talents 
rather  than  of  a  good  physique ;  and  a  right 
homely  and  even  awkward  man  need  not 
fear  a  refusal,  if  he  is  only  powerful,  original, 
logical,  and  smart. 

Rapid  movers,  speakers,  laughers,  etc., 
should  marry  those  who  are  calm  and  de 
liberate,  and  impulsives  those  who  are 
stoical ;  while  those  who  are  medium  may 
marry  those  who  are  either  or  neither,  as 
they  prefer. 

Masculine  women,  who  inherit  their 
fathers  looks,  stature,  appearance,  and  phy 
sique  mainly,  should  give  preference  to  men 
who  take  most  after  mother,  physically; 
whilst  women  cast  strongly  after  their 
mother,  should  marry  those  men  in  whom 
the  masculine  form  and  physiology  super- 
abound. 

Noses  indicate  characters  by  indicating  the 
organisms  and  temperaments.  Accordingly, 
those  noses  especially  marked  either  way, 
should  marry  those  having  opposite  nasal 
characteristics.  Roman  noses  are  adapted 


to  those  which  turn  up,  and  pug  noses,  to 
those  turning  down;  while  straight  noses 
may  marry  either. 

Narrow  nostrils  indicate  small  lungs. 
Such  are  adapted  to  those  with  broad 
nostrils,  which  accompany  large  lungs  atu} 
vital  organs. 


AN  IGNORAMUS. 

,  narrow  head ;  animal  face  ;  obstinate  disposi 
tion  ;  entirely  unsuited  to  an  educated,  well  endowed 
woman. 

President  John  Adams  lived  in  the  most 
poetic  affection  with  his  wife  over  half  a 
century.  He  had  all  the  signs  of  a  vigorous 
sexuality,  along  with  that  harmonious  even 
ness  which  would  neither  give  nor  take 
offence.  He  was  so  splendidly  sexed  that 
any  and  all  women  would  love  him ;  be 
sides  being  talented,  moral,  and  most  appre 
ciative  of  the  sex.  He  was  best  adapted  to 
a  woman  rather  tall,  certainly  not  oval,  but 
especially  refined.  A  little  irritability  was 
his  only  fault. 

Heavy  lower  jaws,  which  signify  animal 
vigor  are  adapted  to  light ;  but  two  with 
heavy  jowls  would  create  too  animal  oft 
spring ;  and  two  thin  ones,  those  too  feeble 
physically  to  become,  accomplish,  or  enjoy 
much. 

Large  mouths  and  lips  signify  hearty  sex- 
ualities.  Small  mouths  in  females  are  poorly 
adapted  to  large-featured,  bony,  broad-built, 
robust  men. 

No   two   with    narrow,    retreating 


148 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


should  marry;  but  such  should  pair  off 
with  those  which  are  broad,  prominent,  and 
projecting  downward. 

Two  having  fine  soft  hair  and  skin  are  not 
as  well  adapted  in  marriage  as  those  having 
one  the  coarser,  the  other  the  finer  ;  lest  their 
offspring  should  be  too  exquisitely  organized 


A  JAIL-BIRD. 

Vicious  face ;  large  head  in  the  rear  and  defective  in 
front;  mouth  drawn  down  at  the  corners  and  nose 
thrust  forward  as  if  to  explore  other  people's  business. 

for  their  strength  ;  nor  should  two  very 
coarse-haired,  lest  their  children  prove  too 
coarse  and  animal ;  yet  those  whose  hair  and 
skin  are  average,  may  marry  fine,  or  coarse, 
or  medium. 

Curls  should  not  marry  curls — except 
those  easily  taken  off— but  should  select  those 
whose  hair  lies  so  close  and  smooth  as  to 
fairly  shine  ;  while  wavy  hair  is  adapted  to 
either  or  neither. 

These  cases  are  instanced,  among  thou 
sands  of  like  ones,  less  on  their  own  account 
than  as  illustrations  of  the  law  involved  ; 
which,  once  understood,  becomes  a  guide  in 
all  other  cases.  Still,  none  should  be  re 
jected  because  of  some  minor  conditions, 
provided  the  great  outline  characteristics  are 
all  right. 

A  right  mental  adaption  is,  however,  as 
much  more  important  than  a  right  physical, 


as,  the  transmission  of  the  mind  is  than  that 
of  the  body.  Gender,  too,  inheres  mainly  in 
the  mind.  Then  what  laws  govern  mental 
affiliations  ? 

What  Mental  Traits  Harmonize  and 
Antagonize. 

Those  which  govern  physical.  In  theii 
great  outline  they  must  be  substantially 
alike.  Thus,  a  savage  and  a  civilized  do  not 
harmonize  as  well  as  two  savages,  or  two  who 
are  civilized.  No  instances  of  genuine  affec 
tion  obtain  among  all  the  marriages  of  white 
men  with  squaws,  or  African,  or  Malay  wo 
men,  except  where  the  latter  have  been  first 
civilized.  Could  a  bigoted  heathen  love  a 
bigoted  Christian  ?  The  more  either  sets  by 
their  religion,  the  less  they  would  set  by 
each  other.  Not  only  must  Chinese  marry 
Chinese,  a  Turk  a  Turk,  and  a  Christian  a 
Christian,  but  those  of  the  same  Christian 
faith  must  marry  those  of  like  tenets.  Catho 
lics  naturally  blend  with  Catholics,  and  Pro 
testants  with  Protestants,  never  with  those 
of  opposite  faith.  That  instance  cannot  be 
cited  in  which  an  extreme  Catholic  lives 
happily  with  an  extreme  Protestant.  Each 
must  attend  their  own  church,  which  init 
iates  a  religious  divorce,  and  this  breeds 
separation  on  all  other  points ;  besides,  each 
will  persist  that  their  children  shall  be  edu 
cated  in  their  own  faith,  but  not  in  that  of 
the  other. 

Protestants  affiliate  with  their  own  sect 
the  most  readily.  Presbyterians  love  Pres 
byterians,  and  Episcopalians  attract  and  are 
attracted  to  Episcopalians,  Methodists  to 
Methodists,  Baptists  to  Baptists,  and  thus  of 
Unitarians,  Trinitarians,  Arians,  Nothing 
arians,  Universalists,  Spiritualists,  Deists. 
Atheists.  Let  all  who  have  ever  loved,  and 
are  religious,  attest  whether  similar  religious 
views  did  not  become  a  bond  of  union,  and 
dissimilar,  of  antagonism. 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


149 


Conflicting  beliefs  can  love  each  other 
when  their  sexual  attraction  is  sufficient 
to  overcome  religious  differences ;  yet  religi 
ous  harmony  increases,  and  differences  di 
minish,  their  natural  assimilation.  So  great 
is  this  sexual  attraction,  that  a  savage  man 
and  civilized  woman  can  live  happily  to 
gether  ;  yet  how  much  more  cordially  could 
savage  live  with  savage,  and  one  of  his  own 
tribe,  and  civilized  with  civilized,  and  one 
of  their  own  or  like  mode  of  civilization. 
Even  those  of  different  nationalities  will 
find  their  national  differences  a  source  of 
many  more  discords  than  concords,  and 
should  marry  only  when  love  is  sufficiently 
strong  to  overrule  this  national  antagonism. 

"A  Cold,  Distant  Man." 

Lack  of  affection  in  both  will  render  their 
marriage  and  offspring  tame,  even  though 
both  are  talented  and  moral.  At  least  one 
should  be  affectionate,  better  if  both  are ; 
^  her  lot  is  hard,  who,  with  warm,  gushing 
affection,  is  repulsed  when  she  expresses  it 
$h  who  dearly  loves  to  be  caressed  and 
fondled,  should  be ;  and  if  she  marries  a 
cold,  distant  man,  whose  love  is  merely 
personal,  she  must  expect  to  pine  and  starve, 
and  dispense,  during  maternity,  with  that 
sympathy  and  tenderness  so  much  needed. 

Few  are  perfect,  mentally  and  sentimen 
tally  ;  therefore  most  require  to  offset  their 
excesses  and  defects  by  marrying  those  unlike 
themselves.  They  must  be  sufficiently  alike, 
in  the  majority  of  their  great  outline  charac 
teristics,  to  fuse  their  differences ;  but  since 
almost  all  have  too  much  or  little  caution, 
kindness,  selfishness,  taste,  justice,  etc.,  most 
need  to  marry  those  unlike  themselves,  in 
one  or  more  respects. 

Evenly-balanced  heads  may  marry  either 
those  well  or  poorly  balanced,  yet  prefer 
those  well  balanced.  Those  who  marry 


even,  may  expect  their  children  to  be  good, 
yet  not  remarkable ;  those  who  marry  con 
trasts,  may  look  for  those  of  bolder  outlines, 
who  will  be  noted  for  something  special. 
Yet  if  these  differences  are  considerable,  they 
produce  miserably  balanced  children,  usually 
unfortunate  and  unhappy. 


OBSTINACY. 

Law,  wide  head;  small  moral  faculties  compered 
with  the  baser ;  wide,  firmly  set  jaws,  and  mouth  that 
shuts  like  an  iron  vise ;  self-willed  and  tyrannical. 

Men  of  the  Feminine  Gender. 

Strongly  feminized  men,  who  inherit 
after  mother  or  grandmother,  should  marry 
strongly  masculinized  women,  who  take 
chiefly  after  their  fathers,  so  as  to  secure 
both  the  male  and  female  characteristics. 
Dependent  and  vine-like  women  are  always 
drawn  most  to  positive,  firm,  wilful,  authori 
tative  men,  who  love  to  command,  and  take 
the  responsibility ;  while  strongly  feminized 
men  need  "strong-minded,"  forcible  women 
— those  related  to  the  Amazons — to  assume 
the  responsibility,  and  spur  on  to  effort;  yet 
some  of  this  class  require  to  marry  men  who 
are  still  firmer  than  themselves,  and  forcible 
enough  to  create  deference.  A  woman,  to 
love  a  man  well,  must  look  up  to  him  wf.th 
respect ;  yet  all  women  despise  weak,  vacil 
lating  men.  No  woman  who  has  much 
feminine  intuition  can  possibly  love  a  putty 
man. 

Men  who  love  to  command,  must  be 
especially  careful  not  to  marry  imperious, 


150 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


women's-rights  women ;  while  those  who 
willingly  "obey  orders,"  need  just  such. 
Some  men  require  a  wife  who  shall  take 
their  part ;  yet  all  who  do  not  need  strong- 
willed  women,  should  be  careful  how  they 
inarry  them.  Unless  you  love  to  be  opposed, 
be  careful  not  to  marry  one  who  often  argues 
and  talks  back ;  for  discussion  before  marri 
age  becomes  obstinacy  after. 

"A  Crooked  Stick. " 

A  sensible  woman  should  not  marry  an 
obstinate  but  injudicious,  unintelligent  man ; 
because  she  cannot  long  endure  to  see  and 
help  him  blindly  follow  his  poor,  but  spurn 
her  good,  plans.  Though  such  men  need  just 
such  women  to  help  lay  out  their  life-course, 
while  such  women  could  get  on  passably 
vith  such  husbands  who  heeded  their  sug 
gestions  ;  yet  such  men  plan  poorly,  blindly 
follow  their  own  wills,  and  authoritatively 
compel  their  wives  to  help  carry  them  out. 
Obstinate  men  must  be  sensible,  or  else 
content  with  wives  and  children  who  are 
not  If  they  could  only  realize  that  such 
women  are  just  the  very  ones  they  require, 
yet  that  they  should  always  ask  and  heed 
their  advice,  they  would  render  their  wives' 
position  most  agreeable  instead  of  painful, 
and  every  way  most  promotive  of  their 
mutual  happiness  and  success.  How  im 
portant  a  change  would  be  effected  by  this 
apparently  trifling  condition ! 

A  submissive  bat  intellectual  woman  may 
marry  a  man  whose  will  is  stronger,  even 
though  his  intellect  is  smaller,  than  hers ; 
yet  it  is  better  for  both  if  his  intellect  is 
still  larger  than  hers,  so  that  she  may  repose 
in  his  superior  judgment.  Such  a  woman 
feels  inadequate  to  assume  responsibilities  or 
set  herself  at  work,  and  must  have  some 
guide.  Naturally  dependent,  she  must  lean, 
though  even  on  a  crooked  stick.  Fortun 
ately,  however,  she  can  adapt  herself  to  al 


most  any  man.  Hence,  if  her  second  hu& 
band  should  be  totally  different  from  her 
first,  and  third  from  either,  she  could  yet 
conform  to  each  with  equal  ease  ;  and  if 
force  is  large,  will  work  most  effectually  and 
willingly  with- and  for  him,  however  opposite 
their  specialties;  besides  quietly  adapting 
herself  to  extreme  vicissitudes,  by  making 
the  best  of  what  is.  Such,  especially  if  love 
is  large,  make  the  very  best  of  wives,  be 
cause  efficient  and  sensible,  yet  affectionate 
and  conformable.  And  there  are  many 
such. 

The  reserved  or  secretive  should  marry 
the  frank.  A  cunning  man  cannot  endure 
the  least  artifice  in  a  wife.  Those  who  are 
non-committal  must  marry  those  who  are  de 
monstrative  ;  else  however  much  they  may 
love,  neither  will  feel  sure  as  to  the  other's 
affections,  and  each  will  distrust  the  other, 
while  their  children  will  be  deceitful.  Those 
who  are  frank  and  confiding  also  need  to  be 
constantly  forewarned  by  those  who  are  sus 
picious. 

Lack  of  Resolution. 

A  timid  woman  should  never  many  a 
hesitating  man,  lest,  like  frightened  children, 
each  keep  perpetually  re-alarming  the  other 
by  imaginary  fears ;  nor  yet  a  careless  man, 
for  he  would  commit  just  indiscretions 
enough  to  keep  her  in  perpetual  "  fear  and 
trembling ; "  but  should  marry  one  who  is 
bold,  yet  judicious,  so  that  her  intellect,  by 
reposing  in  his  tried  judgment,  can  feel  safe, 
and  let  her  trust  in  him  quiet  her  natural 
fearfulness. 

A  hopeless  man  should  marry  a  resolute, 
hopeful  woman,  who  is  always  telling  how 
well  things  are  going  to  turn  out,  and  en 
couraging,  and  who  has  sufficient  judgment 
to  be  allowed  the  reins,  lest  the  fears  of  both 
render  him  pusillanimous,  and  their  children 
cowards.  Many  men  live  tame  lives,  though 


WHO  ARE,  AND  ARE  NOT,  ADAPTED  TO  EACH  OTHER. 


abundantly  capable  of  accomplishing  almost 
anything,  because  too  irresolute  to  once 
begin;  whereas,  with  a  judicious  yet  ex 
pectant  wife  to  prompt  them  to  take  initia 
tory  steps,  they  would  fill  responsible  posi 
tions. 

An  industrious,  thrifty,  hard-working  man 
should  marry  a  woman  tolerably  saving  and 
industrious.  As  the  "  almighty  dollar  "  is 
now  the  great  motor-wheel  of  humanity, 
that  to  which  most  husbands  devote 


both  to  enjoy  them  together.  Indeed,  a 
good  appetite  in  both  can  often  be  made 
to  harmonize  other  discordant  points,  and 
promote  concord. 

Men  large  in  beauty  should  by  no  means? 
marry  women  deficient  in  it ;  yet  women  in 
whom  it  is  large  may  marry  men  in  whom 
it  is  only  fair,  provided  other  traits  are 
favorable  ;  for  a  man  of  taste  can  never  en 
dure  a  slattern,  while  a  woman  of  taste  can 
bear  with  a  man  who  is  careless  of  appear- 


FAMILY    JARS. 


An  ill-tempereu  pair ;  neither  considerate  or  amiable ;  neither  self-possessed  and  quiet  when  the 
other  is  enraged ;  too  much  alike  in  disposition,  petulant,  excitable,  unreasoning,  proving  constantly 
die  infelicities  of  married  life  ;  both  human  snapping-turtles. 


entire  lives,  to  delve  alone  is  uphill 
work.  Much  more  if  she  indulges  in  ex 
travagance.  It  is  doubly  important,  there 
fore,  that  both  work  together  pecuniarily. 
But  if  either  has  property  enough  to  create 
in  both  a  feeling  of  contentment,  large  ac 
quisition  in  the  other  is  less  important ;  yet 
a  difference  here  often  engenders  opposition 
elsewhere. 

Good  livers  should  marry — he  to  provide 
table  luxuries,-  she  to  serve  them  up,  and 


ances,  and  love  him,  provided  he  has  suffi 
cient  power  and  stamina  of  character  to 
eclipse  this  defect  by  his  sterling  character 
istics  ;  yet  he  must  let  her  "fix  him  up 
nicely. " 

An  Untidy  Wife. 

A  clergyman  of  commanding  talents,  su 
perior  eloquence,  and  the  highest  moral 
worth,  was  publicly  described  as  likely  to 
marry  a  woman  of  superior  taste,  refine 
ment,  personal  neatness,  beauty,  elegance  of 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


manners,  poetry,  and  many  other  like  ex 
pressions  denoting  large  beauty ;  whereas 
she  was  the  reverse ;  but  he  lived  unhappily, 
and  spent  much  of  his  time  from  home,  be 
cause  he  could  not  endure  her  coarseness  and 
slatternly  habits,  and  never  took  her  out. 
He  had  married  her  money,  and  was  any 
thing  but  conjugally  mated  or  happy;  so 
that  the  prediction  was  right  in  principle. 
The  rule  was  proved  by  the  evils  consequent 
on  its  violation. 

Animal  love  excessive  in  both,  prompts 
to  that  over-indulgence  which  breaks  down 
the  nervous  systems  of  both,  and  renders 
their  children  too  impulsive,  fiery,  and  ani 
mal;  whereas,  when  one  is  passionate  and 
the  other  passive,  the  former  will  inspire  pas 
sion  in  the  latter,  yet  be  toned  down  by  the 
passive  one;  while  their  children  will  unite 
the  Platonic  love  of  the  latter  with  the  im 
passioned  of  the  former,  and  be  better  than 
either ;  whereas,  its  deficiency  in  both  renders 
progeny  too  tamely  constituted  ever  to  enjoy 
or  accomplish  much. 

The  irritable,  yet  approbative;  must  by 
no  means  marry  those  like  themselves,  lest 
the  irritability  of  each,  by  blaming  the 
other  rouse  mutual  resentment.  Yet  if 
such  are  married,  both  must  be  especially 
careful  how  they  cast  any  reflections; 
because  the  other  party  construes  them  to 
mean  much  more  than  was  intended.  Prob 
ably  more  conjugal  animosities  originate  in 
this  wounded  ambition  than  in  any  other 
faculty.  Nothing  as  effectually  rouses  and 
intensifies  every  existing  antagonism.  Pride 
is  a  good  thing,  but  must  be  respected  and 
humored,  at  least  not  upbraided,  or  mor 
tified.  Even  if  a  man  can  gratify  a  woman's 
love  of  style  and  display,  he  must  not  cen 
sure  her  in  private,  unless  he  is  willing  to 
kindle  her  hate,  and  spoil  their  children. 


Fault-finding  beaux  and  girls  during 
courtship,  are  sure  to  scold  intolerably  after 
marriage.  If  your  moderate  ambition  can 
endure  censure,  marry;  but  if  not,  take 
timely  warning  from  "straws."  One  who 
is  hard  to  please  before  marriage,  will  be 
much  harder  after ;  while  one  who  patiently 
endures  and  forbears  during  courtship,  will 
be  more  so  after  marriage,  if  kept  in  a  love 
mood;  and  a  beau  who  insists  on  having 
his  way  before,  will  be  dogmatical  if  not 
domineering  after ;  and  must  marry  a  meek, 
patient,  accommodating  woman. 

This  counterbalancing  law  also  governs 
the  intellectual  faculties.  If  a  man  who 
has  large  perceptives  with  small  reflectives, 
marries  a  woman  having  large  reflectives 
with  small  perceptives,  since  both  transmit, 
what  is  strongest  in  themselves,  their  chil 
dren  will  inherit  his  large  perceptives  along 
with  her  large  reflectives;  thus  possess 
ing  the  perfections  of  both,  unmarred  by 
the  imperfections  of  either.  He  can  re 
member,  but  not  think;  while  she  can 
think,  but  not  remember ;  yet  their  children 
can  both  think  and  remember.  This  like 
wise  improves  their  copartnership.  If  he,' 
unable  to  plan,  should  marry  one  equally 
deficient  in  causation,  all  their  attempts 
must  fail,  because  poorly  devised;  whereas 
prosperity  now  attends  them,  because  her 
large  causality  does  up  the  planning  foi 
both,  and  his  perceptives  the  perceiving ;  so 
that  both  prosper  much  better  together  than 
if  alike,  or  either  separately.  This  is  true 
of  memory  and  judgment,  of  language  and 
sense,  of  poetry  and  philosophy,  of  each  and 
all  the  intellectual  capacities,  so  that  these 
offsettings  can  be  made  to  improve  all  mar 
riages  as  well  as  offspring.  When  both  have 
the  same  defects  their  offspring  will  shovi 
these  defects  in  a  greater  degree. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Model  Wife. 


JTQ  makes  the  best  wife?  Not  a 
weak,  forceless,  stupid,  uneducated, 
giddy  creature.  The  best  wife  has 
certain  marked  traits  and  characteristics, 
which  every  man  should  look  for  before  put 
ting  his  foot  in  any  "entangling  alliance," 
and  failing  to  find,  should  pause  and  not  go 
s  single  step  farther. 

One  of  these  traits  is  industry.  By  in- 
dustry  I  do  not  mean  merely  laboriousness, 
jffierely  labor  or  activity  of  body,  for  pur 
poses  of  gain  or  of  saving ;  for  there  may  be 
industry  amongst  those  whc  have  more 
money  than  they  know  well  what  to  do 
with,  and  there  may  be  lazy  ladies,  as  well 
as  lazy  farmers'  and  tradesmen's  wives. 
There  is  no  state  of  life  in  which  industry 
In  a  wife  is  not  necessary  to  the  happiness 
and  prosperity  of  the  family,  at  the  head  of 
the  household  affairs  of  which  she  is  placed. 

If  she  be  lazy  there  will  be  lazy  servants, 
and  which  is  a  great  dea!  worse,  children 
habitually  lazy ;  everything,  however  neces 
sary  to  be  done,  will  be  put  off  to  the  last 
moment ;  then  it  will  be  done  badly,  and  in 
many  cases  not  at  all ;  the  dinner  will  be  too 
late-,  the  journey  or  the  visit  will  be  tardy ; 
inconveniences  of  all  sorts  will  be  continu 
ally  arising ;  there  will  always  be  a  heavy 
arreai  of  things  unperformed ;  and  this,  even 
amongst  the  most  wealthy  of  all,  is  a  great 
nurse;  101  if  they  have  no  business  imposed 
upon  them  by  necessity,  they  make  business 
for  themselves;  life  would  be  unbearable 
without  it;  and  therefore  a  lazy  woman 
must  always  be  a  curse,  be  her  rank  or  sta 
tion  what  it  may. 


But  who  is  to  tell  whether  a  gill  wfl! 
make  an  industrious  woman?  How  is  the 
purblind  lover  especially,  to  be  able  to  ascer 
tain  whether  she,  whose  smiles  and  dimples, 
and  bewitching  lips  have  half  bereft  him  of 
his  senses ;  how  is  he  to  be  able  to  judge, 
from  anything  that  he  can  see,  whether  the 
be?oved  object  will  be  industrious  or  lazy? 
Why,  it  is  very  difficult ;  it  is  a  matter  that 
reason  has  very  little  to  do  with ;  but  there 
are,  nevertheless,  certain  outward  and  visible 
signs,  from  which  a  man,  not  wholly  de 
prived  of  the  use  of  his  reason,  may  form  a 
pretty  accurate  judgment  as  to  this  matter. 

It  was  a  story  in  Philadelphia,  some  years 
ago,  that  a  young  man,  \vho  was  courting 
one  of  three  sisters,  happened  to  be  on  a 
visit  to  her,  when  all  the  three  were  present, 
and  when  one  said  to  the  others,  "  I  wondei 
where  our  needle  is."  Upon  which  he  with 
drew,  as  soon  as  was  consistent  with  the 
rules  of  politeness,  resolved  never  to  think 
more  of  a  girl  who  possessed  a  needle  only 
in  partnership,  and  who,  it  appeared,  was 
not  too  well  informed  as  to  the  place  where 
even  that  share  was  deposited. 

This  was,  to  be  sure,  a  very  flagrant  in 
stance  of  a  want  of  industry;  for  if  the 
third  part  of  the  use  of  a  needle  satisfied  her 
when  single,  it  was  reasonable  to  anticipate 
that  marriage  would  banish  that  useful  im 
plement  altogether.  But  such  instances  are 
seldom  suffered  to  come  in  contact  with  the 
eyes  and  ears  of  the  lover,  to  disguise  all 
defects  from  wliom  is  the  great  business,  not 
only  of  the  girl  herself  but  of  her  whole 
family 

133 


154 


COURTSHIP,  MARrviAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


There  are,  however,  certain  outward  signs, 
which,  if  attended  to  with  care,  will  serve  as 
pretty  sure  guides.  And,  first,  if  you  find 
the  tongue  lazy,  you  may  be  nearly  certain 
that  the  hands  and  feet  are  the  same.  By 
teziness  of  the  tongue  I  do  not  mean  silence ; 


MARION    HARLAND. 

Strong  motive-mental  temperament;  breadth  and 
Mlness  of  brain  ;  marked  intellectual  development ; 
square  face  and  form  of  mouth  showing  decision  and 
determination  ;  appearance  of  robust  health  ;  suited  to 
a  man  of  moderate  force  and  firmness ;  well-known 
authoress. 

I  do  not  mean  an  absence  of  talk,  for  that  is, 
in  most  cases,  very  good ;  but  I  mean  a  slow 
and  soft  utterance  ;  a  sort  of  sighing  out  of 
the  words  instead  of  speaking  them  ;  a  sort 
of  letting  the  sounds  fall  out,  as  if  the  party 
were  sick  at  stomach.  The  pronunciation 
of  an  industrious  person  is  generally  quick, 
distinct,  and  the  voice,  if  not  strong,  firm  at 
the  least.  Not  masculine ;  as  feminine  as 
possible;  not  a  croak  nor  a  bawl,  but  a  quick, 
distinct,  and  sound  voice.  In  this  whole 
world  nothing  is  much  more  hateful  than  a 
female's  under-jaw  lazily  moving  up  and 
down,  and  letting  out  a  long  string  of  half- 
articulate  sounds.  It  is  impossible  for  any 
man  who  has  any  spirit  in,  him,  to  love  such 


a  woman  for  any  length  of  time,  or  find 
a  congenial  companion. 

Look  a  little,  also,  at  the  labors  of  the 
teeth,  for  these  correspond  with  those  of  the 
other  members  of  the  body,  and  with  the 
operations  of  the  mind.  "  Quick  at  meals, 
quick  at  work, "  is  a  saying  as  old  as  the 
hills,  in  this,  the  most  industrious  nation 
upon  earth ;  and  never  was  there  a  truer 
saying. 

Another  mark  of  industry  is,  a  quick  step, 
and  a  somewhat  heavy  tread,  showing  that 
the  foot  comes  down  with  a  hearty  good 
will ;  and  if  the  body  lean  a  little  forward, 
and  the  eyes  keep  steadily  in  the  same  direc 
tion,  while  the  feet  are  going,  so  much  the 
better,  for  these  discover  earnestness  to  arrive 
at  the  intended  point.  I  do  not  like,  and  I 
never  liked,  your  sauntering,  soft-stepping 
girls,  who  move  as  if  they  were  perfectly  in 
different  as  to  the  result ;  and,  as  to  the  love 
part  of  the  story,  whoever  expects  ardent  and 
lasting  affection  from  one  of  these  sauntering 
girls,  will,  when  too  late,  find  his  mistake : 
the  character  runs  the  same  all  the  way 
through ;  and  no  man  ever  yet  saw  a  saun 
tering  girl,  who  did  not,  when  married, 
make  a  mawkish  wife,  and  a  cold-hearted 
mother ;  cared  very  little  for  either  husband 
or  children  ;  and,  of  course,  having  no  store 
of  those  blessings  which  are  the  natural  re 
sources  to  apply  to  in  sickness  and  in  o\*  age, 

Up  with  the  Lark. 

Early  rising  is  another  mark  of  industry; 
and  though,  in  the  higher  situations  of  life, 
it  may  be  of  no  importance  in  a  mere 
pecuniary  point  of  view,  it  is,  even  there,  of 
importance  in  other  respects;  for  it  is,  I 
should  imagine,  pretty  difficult  to  keep  love 
alive  towards  a  woman  who  never  sees  the 
dew,  never  behol  Js  the  rising  sun,  and  wha 
constantly  comes  directly  from  a  reeking  bed 
to  the  breakfast  table,  and  there  chews  with- 


THE  MODEL  WIFE. 


155 


out  appetite  the  choicest  morsels  of  human 
food.  A  man  might,  perhaps,  endure  this 
for  a  month  or  two,  without  being  dis 
gusted  ;  but  that  is  ample  allowance  of  time. 
A.nd  as  to  people  where  a  living  and  a  pro 
vision  for  children  is  to  be  sought  by  labor 
of  some  sort  or  other,  late  rising  in  the  wife 
is  certain  ruin  ;  and  never  was  there  yet  an 
early  rising  wife  who  had  been  a  late  rising 
girl. 

If  brought  up  to  late  rising,  she  will  like 
It;  it  will  be  her  habit;  she  will,  when 
married,  never  want  excuses  for  indulging  in 
the  habit.  At  first  she  will  be  indulged  with 
out  bonds  ;  to  make  a  change  afterwards  will 
be  difficult ;  it  will  be  deemed  a  wrong  done 
to  her ;  she  will  ascribe  it  to  diminished  af 
fection  ;  a  quarrel  must  ensue,  or  the  husband 
must  submit  to  be  ruined,  or,  at  the  very 
least,  to  see  half  the  fruit  of  his  labor  snored 
and  lounged  away. 

And  is  this  being  rigid  ?  is  it  being  harsh  ? 
Is  it  being  hard  upon  a  woman  ?  Is  it  the 
offspring  of  the  frigid  severity  of  age?  It  is  ' 
none  of  these :  it  arises  from  an  ardent  desire 
to  promote  the  happiness,  and  to  add  to  the 
natural,  legitimate,  and  salutary  influence  of 
the  female  sex.  The  tendency  of  this  advice 
is  to  promote  the  preservation  of  their  health ; 
to  prolong  the  duration  of  their  beauty ;  to 
cause  them  to  be  beloved  to  the  last  day  of 
their  lives;  and  to  give  them,  during  the 
whole  of  those  lives,  weight  and  consequence, 
of  which  laziness  would  render  them  wholly 
unworthy. 

"A  Penny  Saved  is  a  Penny  Earned." 

Frugality  is  another  good  trait.  This 
means  the  contrary  of  extravagance.  It 
does  not  mean  stinginess ;  it  does  not  mean 
a,  pinching  of  the  stomach,  nor  a  stripping 
of  the  back ;  but  it  means  abstaining  from 
all  unnecessary  expenditure,  and  all  unnec 
essary  use  of  goods  of  any  and  of  every  sort ; 


and  a  quality  of  great  importance  oit  is, 
whether  the  rank  in  life  be  high  or  low. 
How  many  men  have  been  ruined  and  de 
graded  by  the  extravagance  of  their  wives! 
More  frequently  by  their  own  extravagance, 
perhaps ;  but,  in  numerous  instances,  by  thai 


KATE  FIELD. 


Nervous-mental  temperament;  quick  perceptfonsf 
acute  intellectual  qualities;  features,  particularly  the 
nose^  indicating  push  and  enterprise ;  active  and  ag 
gressive  ;  correspondent  and  writer  on  dress-reform. 

of  those  whose  duty  it  is  to  assist  in  uphold 
ing  their  stations  by  husbanding  their  for 
tunes. 

If  this  be  the  case  amongst  the  opulent, 
who  have  estates  to  draw  upon,  what  must 
be  the  consequences  of  a  want  of  frugality 
in  the  ordinary  ranks  of  life  'f  Here  it  must 
be  fatal,  and  esD^cidlly  amongst  that  descrip 
tion  of  persons  whose  wives  have,  in  many 
cases,  the  receiving  as  well  as  the  expending 
of  money.  Ir.  such  a  case,  there  wants 
nothing  but  extravagance  in  the  wife  to 
make  ruin  as  sure  as  the  arrival  of  old  age. 

To  obtain  security  against  this  is  very  dif 
ficult  ;  yet,  if  the  lover  be  not  quite  blind, 
he  may  easily  discover  a  propensity  towards 
extravagance.  The  object  of  his  addresses 


156 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


will,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  not  be  the  man 
ager  of  a  house;  but  she  must  have  her 
dress,  and  other  little  matters  under  her  con 
trol.  If  she  be  costly  in  these ;  if,  in  these, 
she  step  above  her  rank,  or  even  to  the  top 
of  it ;  if  she  purchase  all  she  is  able  to  pur 
chase,  and  prefer  the  showy  to  the  useful,  the 
gay  and  the  fragile  to  the  less  sightly  and 
more  durable,  he  may  be  sure  that  the  dispo 
sition  will  cling  to  her  through  life.  If  he 
perceive  in  her  a  taste  for  costly  food,  costly 
furniture,  costly  amusements ;  if  he  find  her 
love  of  gratification  to  be  bounded  only  by 
her  want  of  means ;  if  he  find  her  full  of 
admiration  of  the  trappings  of  the  rich,  and 
of  desire  to  be  able  to  imitate  them,  he  may 
be  pretty  sure  that  she  will  not  spare  his 
^urse  when  once  she  gets  her  hand  into  it ; 
jid,  therefore,  if  he  can  bid  adieu  to  her 
charms,  the  sooner  he  does  it  the  better. 

Earn  her  a  horse  to  ride,  she  will  want  a 
gig ;  earn  the  gig,  she  will  want  a  chariot ; 
get  her  that,  she  will  long  for  a  coach-and- 
four ;  and,  from  stage  to  stage,  she  will  tor 
ment  you  to  the  end  of  her  or  your  days ; 
for  still  there  will  be  somebody  with  a  finer 
equipage  than  you  can  give  her ;  and  as  long 
as  this  is  the  case,  you  will  never  have  rest. 
The  Tidy  Housekeeper. 

There  must  also  be  cleanliness.  This  is  a 
capital  ingredient ;  for  there  never  yet  was, 
and  there  never  will  be,  love  of  long  dura 
tion,  sincere  and  ardent  love,  in  any  man 
towards  a  "filthy  mate."  I  do  not  say  that 
there  are  not  men  enough  to  live  peaceably 
and  even  contentedly,  with  dirty,  sluttish 
women ;  for  there  are  some  who  seem  to  like 
the  filth  well  enough.  But  what  I  contend 
for  is  this,  that  there  never  can  exist,  for  any 
length  of  time,  ardent  affection  in  any  man 
towards  a  woman  who  is  filthy  either  in  her 
person  or  in  her  house  affairs.  Men  may  be 
careless  as  to  their  own  persons ;  they  may, 


from  the  nature  of  their  business,  or  from 
their  want  of  time  to  adhere  to  neatness  in 
dress,  be  slovenly  in  their  own  dress  and 
habits ;  but  they  do  not  relish  this  in  their 
wives,  who  must  still  have  charms;  and 
charms  and  filth  do  not  go  together. 
Neatness  in  Dress. 

It  is  not  dress  that  the  husband  wants  to 
be  perpetual :  it  is  not  finery ;  but  cleanliness 
is  everything.  The  French  women  dress 
enough,  especially  when  they  sally  forth. 
Mr  John  Tredwell,  of  Long  Island,  used  to 
say  that  the  French  were  "  pigs  in  the  parlor 
and  peacocks  on  the  promenade  ; "  an  allit 
eration  which  "  Canning's  self"  might  have 
envied  !  This  occasional  cleanliness  is  not 
the  thing  that  an  American  husband  wants : 
he  wants  it  always ;  indoors  as  well  as  out ; 
by  night  as  well  as  by  day ;  on  the  floor  as 
well  as  on  the  table ;  and,  however  he  may 
grumble  about  the  "  fuss "  and  the  "  ex 
pense  "  of  it,  he  would  grumble  more  if  he 
had  it  not 

I  once  saw  a  picture  representing  the 
amusements  of  Portuguese  lovers ;  that  is  to 
say,  three  or  four  young  men,  dressed  in 
gold  or  silver  laced  clothes,  each  having  a 
young  girl,  dressed  like  a  princess,  and  affec 
tionately  engaged  in  hunting  down  and  kill 
ing  the  vermin  in  his  head  !  This  was,  per 
haps,  an  exaggeration;  but  that  it  should 
have  had  the  shadow  of  foundation,  was 
enough  to  fill  me  with  contempt  for  the 
whole  nation. 

The  dress  is  a  good  criterion  in  two  res 
pects  ;  first,  as  to  its  color  ;  for  if  the  white 
be  a  sort  of  yellow,  cleanly  hands  would 
have  been  at  work  to  prevent  that.  A  white* 
yellow  cravat,  or  shirt,  on  a  man,  speaks  at 
once  the  character  of  his  wife  ;  and,  be  you 
assured,  that  she  will  not  take  with  your 
dress  pains  which  she  has  never  taken  with 
her  own.  Then  the  manner  of  putting  oa 


THE  MODEL  WIFE. 


157 


the  dress  is  no  bad  foundation  for  judging. 
If  it  be  careless,  slovenly,  if  it  do  not  fit 
properly,  no  matter  for  its  mean  quality: 
mea.n  as  it  may  be,  it  may  be  neatly  and  trim 
ly  put  on ;  and  if  it  be  not,  take  care  of  your 
self ;  for,  as  you  will  soon  find  to  your  cost,  a 
sloven  in  one  thing  is  a  sloven  in  all  things. 

Look  at  the  shoes !  If  they  be  trodden  on 
one  side,  loose  on  the  foot,  or  run  down  at 
Ihe  heel,  it  is  a  very  bad  sign  ;  and,  as  to 
slip-shod,  though  at  coming  down  in  the 
morning  and  even  before  daylight,  make  up 
your  mind  to  a  rope,  rather  than  to  live  with 
a  slip-shod  wife. 

Oh !  how  much  do  women  lose  by  inat 
tention  to  these  matters?  Men,  in  general, 
say  nothing  about  it  to  their  wives ;  but  they 
think  about  it;  they  envy  their  luckier 
neighbors  ;  and,  in  numerous  cases,  conse 
quences  the  most  serious  arise  from  this  ap 
parently  trifling  cause.  Beauty  is  valuable  ; 
it  is  one  of  the  ties ;  and  a  strong  tie  too : 
khat,  however,  cannot  last  to  old  age ;  but 
(he  charm  of  cleanliness  never  ends  but  with 
life  itsell 

The  Queen  of  the  Kitchen. 

There  must  also  be  a  knowledge  of  do 
mestic  affairs.  It  was  the  fashion  in  former 
times,  for  ladies  to  understand  a  great  deal 
about  these  affairs,  and  it  would  be  very  hard 
to  make  me  believe  that  this  did  not  tend  to 
promote  the  interests  and  well-being  of  their 
husbands.  A  thorough  acquaintance  with 
domestic  affairs  is  so  necessary  in  every  wife 
that  the  lover  ought  to  have  it  continually 
in  his  eye.  Not  only  a  knowledge  of  these 
affairs,  not  only  to  know  how  things  ought 
to  be  done,  but  how  to  do  them,  not  only 
to  know  what  ingredients  ought  to  be  put 
into  a  pie  or  a  pudding,  but  to  be  able  to 
make  the  pie  or  the  pudding.  Young  peo 
ple,  when  they  come  together,  ought  not, 
unless  they  have  fortunes,  or  are  in  a  great 


way  of  business,  to  think  about  servant* 
Servants  for  what !  To  help  them  to  eat  and 
drink  and  sleep?  When  children  come, 
there  must  be  some  help  in  a  farmer's  or 
tradesman's  house;  but  until  then,  what 
call  for  a  servant  in  a  house,  the  master  of 
which  has  to  earn  every  mouthful  that  is 
consumed? 

Love  Can't  Live  on  Heavy  Bread. 

Eating  and  drinking  come  three  times 
every  day ;  they  must  come ;  and  however 
little  we  may,  in  the  days  of  our  health  and 
vigor,  care  about  choice  food  and  about 
cookery,  we  very  soon  get  tired  of  heavy  or 
burnt  bread,  and  of  spoiled  joints  of  meat; 
we  bear  them  for  a  time,  or  for  two  perhaps, 
but  about  the  third  time,  we  lament  in«. 
wardly ;  about  the  fifth  time  it  must  be  an 
extraordinary  honeymoon  that  will  keep  us 
from  complaining ;  if  the  like  continue  for 
a  month  or  two,  we  begin  to  repent ;  and 
then  adieu  to  all  our  anticipated  delights. 
We  discover,  when  it  is  too  late,  that  we 
have  not  got  a  helpmate,  but  a  burden  ;  and 
the  fire  of  love  being  damped,  the  unfortu 
nately  educated  creature,  whose  parents  are 
more  to  blame  than  she,  is,  unless  she  re 
solve  to  learn  to  do  her  duty,  doomed  to  lead 
a  life  very  nearly  approaching  to  that  of 
misery;  for,  however  considerate  the  hus 
band,  he  never  can  esteem  her  as  he  would 
have  done,  had  she  been  skilled  and  able  in 
domestic  affairs. 

Never  fear  the  toil  to  her ;  exercise  is  good 
for  health ;  and  without  health  there  is  no 
beauty ;  a  sick  beauty  may  excite  pity ;  but 
pity  is  a  short-lived  passion.  Besides,  what 
is  the  labor  in  such  a  case?  And  how  many 
thousands  of  ladies,  who  loll  away  the  day, 
would  give  half  their  fortunes  for  that  sound 
sleep  which  the  stirring  housewife  seldom 
fails  to  enjoy!  Honest  labor  means  health 
and  happiness. 


i58 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


Sunshine  in  the  Home. 

Good  temper  is  a  jewel.  This  is  a  very 
difficult  thing  to  ascertain  beforehand. 
Smiles  are  so  cheap ;  they  are  so  easily  put 
€>n  for  the  occasion ;  and,  besides,  the  frowns 
are,  according  to  the  lover's  whim,  inter 
preted  into  the  contrary.  By  "good  tem 
per,'"  I  do  not  mean  easy  temper,  a  serenity 


MISS  PHILIPPA  FAWCETT. 

Mental  temperament:  large  perceptive  faculties; 
very  harmonious  organization  ;  first  lady  who  ever  re 
ceived  the  highest  honors  over  all  competitors  at  the 
great  University  of  Cambridge,  England. 

which  nothing  disturbs,  for  that  is  a  mark 
of  laziness.  Sulkiness,  if  you  be  rot  too 
blind  to  perceive  it,  is  a  temper  to  be  avoided 
by  all  means.  A  sulky  man  is  bad  enough ; 
what,  then,  must  be  a  sulky  woman,  and 
that  woman  a  wife ;  a  constant  inmate,  a 
companion  day  and  night !  Only  think  of 
the  delight  of  sitting  at  the  same  table, 
and  sleeping  in  the  same  bed,  for  a  week, 
and  not  exchange  a  word  all  the  while! 
Very  bad  to  be  scolding  for  such  a  length  of 
time ;  but  this  is  far  better  than  the  sulks  and 
sullen  deportment. 

If  you  have  your  eyes,  and  look  sharp, 
you  will  discover  symptoms  of  this,  if  it  un 


happily  exist  She  will,  at  some  time  a, 
other,  show  it  towards  some  one  or  other  oi 
the  family ;  or  perhaps  towards  yourself;  and 
you  may  be  sure  that,  in  this  respect,  mar 
riage  will  not  mend  her.  Sulkiness  arises 
from  capricious  displeasure,  displeasure  not 
founded  on  reason.  The  party  takes  offence 
unjustifiably,  is  unable  to  frame  a  complaint, 
and  therefore  expresses  displeasure  by  silence, 
The  remedy  for  sulkiness  is,  to  suffer  it  to 
take  its  full  swing ;  but  it  is  better  not  to 
have  the  disease  in  your  house ;  and  to  be 
married  to  it  is  little  short  of  madness. 
Everlasting-  Fault-finders. 

Querulousness  is  a  great  fault.  No  manv 
and  especially,  no  woman,  likes  to  hear  eter 
nal  plaintiveness.  That  she  complain,  and 
roundly  complain,  of  your  want  of  punctu 
ality,  of  your  coolness,  of  your  neglect,  £r 
your  liking  the  company  of  others ;  these: 
are  all  very  well,  more  especially  as  they  are 
frequently  but  too  just.  But  an  everlasting 
complaining,  without  rhyme  or  reason,  is  a. 
bad  sign.  It  shows  want  of  patience,  andr 
indeed,  want  of  sense. 

But  the  contrary  of  this,  a  cold  indiffer 
ence,  is  still  worse.  "  When  will  you  come 
again?  You  can  never  find  time  to  come 
here.  You  like  any  company  better  than 
mine."  These,  when  groundless,  are  very- 
teasing,  and  demonstrate  a  disposition  too 
full  of  anxiousness ;  but  from  a  girl  who 
always  receives  you  with  the  same  civil 
smile,  lets  you,  at  your  own  good  pleasure, 
depart  with  the  same ;  and  who,  when  you 
take  her  by  the  hand,  holds  her  cold  fingeis 
as  straight  as  sticks,  I  say,  God  in  his  mercy 
preserve  me ! 

Pertinacity  is  a  very  bad  thing  in  any 
body,  and  especially  in  a  young  woman ;  and 
it  is  sure  to  increase  in  force  with  the  age  of 
the  party.  To  have  the  last  word  is  a  poor 
triumph ;  but  with  some  peorjle  it  is  a  species 


THE  MODEL  WIFE. 


159 


of  disease  of  the  mind.  In  a  wife  it  must 
be  extremely  troublesome ;  and  if  you  find 
an  ounce  of  it  in  the  maid,  it  will  become  a 
pound  in  the  wife.  An  eternal  disputer  is  a 
most  disagreeable  companion;  and  where 
young  women  thrust  their  say  into  conver 
sations  carried  on  by  older  persons,  give 
their  opinions  in  a  positive  manner,  and 
court  a  contest  of  the  tongue,  those  must  be 
very  bold  men  who  will  encounter  them  as 
wives. 

Still,  of  all  the  faults  as  to  temper,  your 
melancholy  ladies  have  the  worst,  unless  you 
have  the  same  mental  disease.  Most  wives 
are,  at  times,  misery-makers ;  but  these  carry 
it  on  as  a  regular  trade.  They  are  always 
unhappy  about  something,  either  past,  pres 
ent,  or  to  come.  Both  arms  full  of  children 
is  a  pretty  efficient  remedy  in  most  cases ; 
but  if  the  ingredients  be  wanting,  a  little 
want,  a  little  real  trouble,  a  little  genuine 
affliction  must,  if  you  would  effect  a  cure,  be 
resorted  to.  But  this  is  very  painful  to  a 
man  of  any  feeling ;  and,  therefore,  the  best 
way  is  to  avoid  a  connection  which  is  to  give 
you  a  life  of  wailing  and  sighs. 

Female  Loveliness. 

Although  no  woman  is  to  be  blamed  or 
despised  for  her  plainness,  yet  beauty  is  to 
be  coveted.  Though  I  have  reserved  this  to 
the  last  of  the  things  to  be  desired  in  a  wife, 
I  by  no  means  think  it  the  last  in  point  of 
importance.  The  less  favored  part  of  the 
sex  say,  that  "beauty  is  but  skin  deep;"  and 
this  is  very  true ;  but  it  is  very  agreeable, 
though,  for  all  that.  Pictures  are  only 
paint-deep,  or  pencil-deep;  but  we  admire 
them,  nevertheless.  "Handsome  is  that 
handsome  does,"  used  to  say  to  me  an  old 
man,  who  had  marked  me  out  for  his  not 
over-handsome  daughter.  "  Please  your  eye 
iind  plague  your  heart,"  is  an  adage  that 
want  of  beauty  invented.  I  dare  say,  more 


than  a  thousand  years  ago.  These  adages? 
would  say,  if  they  had  but  the  courage,  that 
beauty  is  inconsistent  with  chastity,  with 
sobriety  of  conduct,  and  with  all  the  female 
virtues.  The  argument  is,  that  beauty  ex< 
poses  tu^.  possessor  to  greater  temptation  thai? 


FANNY  DAVENPORT. 

Finely  developed  in  form,  features  and  brain; 
of  physical  force  and  emotior,al  temperament. 

women  not  beautiful  are  exposed  to;  and 
that,  therefore,  their  fall  is  more  probable 
Let  us  see  a  little  how  this  matter  stands. 

It  is  certainly  true  that  pretty  girls  will 
have  more,  and  more  ardent,  admirers  than 
ugly  ones ;  but  as  to  the  temptation  when 
in  their  unmarried  state,  there  are  few  sc 
very  ugly  as  to  be  exposed  to  no  temptatiot 
at  all ;  and  which  is  the  most  likely  to  resist; 
she  who  has  a  choice  of  lovers,  or  she  who 
if  she  let  the  occasion  slip,  may  never  have 
it  again?  Which  of  the  two  is  most  likely 
to  set  a  high  value  upon  her  reputation ;  she 
whom  all  beholders  admire,  or  she  who  ig 
admired,  at  best,  by  mere  chance? 

And  as  to  women  in  the  married  state, 
this  argument  assumes,  that  when  they  fall> 
it  is  from  their  own  vicious  disposition; 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  UFE. 


when  the  fact  is,  that,  if  you  search  the  an 
nals  of  conjugal  infidelity,  you  will  find  that, 
nine  cases  out  of  ten,  the  fault  is  in  the  hus 
band.  It  is  his  neglect,  his  flagrant  disre 
gard,  his  frosty  indifference,  his  foul  exam 
ple  ;  it  is  to  these  that,  nine  times  out  of  ten, 
he  owes  the  infidelity  of  his  wife ;  and  if  I 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL. 

Active  organization  and  adapted  to  business  affairs ; 
brain  full  large  for  body  ;  amiable  disposition ;  volup 
tuous  lips  ;  famous  for  conjugal  devotion. 

were  to  say  ninety-nine  times  out  of  a  hun 
dred,  the  facts,  if  verified,  would,  I  am  cer 
tain,  bear  me  out.  And  whence  this  neg 
lect,  this  disregard,  this  frosty  indifference ; 
whence  this  foul  example?  Because  it  is 
easy,  in  so  many  cases,  to  find  some  woman 
more  beautiful  than  the  wife. 

This  is  no  justification  for  the  husband  to 
plead ;  for  he  has,  with  his  eyes  open,  made 
a  solemn  contract ;  if  she  have  not  beauty 
enough  to  please  him,  he  should  have  sought 
it  in  some  other  woman.  At  any  rate,  as 
conjugal  infidelity  is,  in  so  many  cases;  as 
it  is  generally  caused  by  the  want  of  affec 
tion  and  due  attention  in  the  husband,  it  fol 
lows,  of  course,  that  it  must  more  frequently 


happen  in  the  case  of  ugly  than  in  that  04 
handsome  women. 

As  to  manners  and  temper,  there  are  cer. 
tainly  some  handsome  women  who  are  con 
ceited  and  arrogant ;  but  as  they  have  all  the 
best  reasons  in  the  world  for  being  pleased 
with  themselves,  they  afford  you  the  best 
chance  of  general  good-humor;  and  thk 
good-humor  is  a  very  valuable  commodity  in 
the  married  state. 

Women  of  Wax  and  Wood. 

Some  that  are  called  by  most  persons 
handsome,  and  that  are  such  at  the  first 
glance,  are  dull,  inanimate  things,  that  might 
as  well  have  been  made  of  wax,  or  of  wood. 
But  the  truth  is,  that  this  is  not  beauty,  for 
this  is  not  to  be  found  only  in  the  form  of  the 
features,  but  in  the  movements  of  them  also. 
Besides,  here  nature  is  very  impartial ;  for  she 
gives  animation  promiscuously  to  the  hand 
some  as  well  as  to  the  ugly ;  and  the  want  of 
this  in  the  former  is  surely  as  bearable  as  in 
the  latter. 

But  the  great  use  of  female  beauty,  the 
great  practical  advantage  of  it  is,  that  it 
naturally  and  unavoidably  tends  to  keep  the 
husband  in  good-humor  with  himself,  to 
make  him,  to  use  the  dealer's  phrase,  pleased 
with  his  bargain.  When  old  age  approaches, 
and  the  parties  have  become  endeared  to  each 
other  by  a  long  series  of  joint  cares  and  in 
terests,  and  when  children  have  come  and 
bound  them  together  by  the  strongest  ties 
that  nature  has  in  store,  at  this  age  the 
features  and  the  person,  are  of  less  conse 
quence  ;  but  in  the  young  days  of  matrimony, 
when  the  roving  eye  of  the  bachelor  is 
scarcely  become  steady  in  the  head  of  the 
husband,  it  is  dangerous  for  him  to  see,  every 
time  he  stirs  out,  a  face  more  captivating 
than  that  of  his  companion  for  life. 

Beauty  is,  in  some  degree,  a  matter  of  taste : 
what  one  man  admires,  another  does  not ; 


THE  MODEL  WIFE. 


161 


and  it  is  fortunate  for  us  that  it  is  thus.  But 
svill  there  are  certain  things  that  all  men 
admire ;  and  a  husband  is  always  pleased 
•when  he  perceives  that  a  portion,  at  least,  of 
these  things  are  in  his  own  possession ;  he 
takes  this  possession  as  a  compliment  to  him 
self;  there  must,  he  will  think  the  world  will 
believe,  have  been  some  merit  in  him,  some 
charm,  seen  or  unseen,  to  have  caused  him  to 
be  blessed  with  the  acquisition. 

Healthy  Wives  and  Children  versus  Sickly. 

And  then  there  arise  so  many  things,  sick 
ness,  misfortune  in  business,  losses,  many, 
many  things,  wholly  unexpected  ;  and  there 
are  so  many  circumstances,  perfectly  name 
less,  to  communicate  to  the  new-married  man 
the  fact,  that  it  is  not  a  real  angel  of  whom 
he  has  got  the  possession  ;  there  are  so  many 
things  of  this  sort,  so  many  and  such  power 
ful  dampers  of  the  passions,  and  so  many  in 
centives  to  cool  reflection,  that  it  requires 
something,  and  a  good  deal  too,  to  keep  the 
husband  in  countenance  in  this  his  altered 
and  enlightened  state. 

To  be  sure,  when  a  man  has,  from  what 
ever  inducement,  once  married  a  woman,  he 
is  unjust  and  cruel  if  he  even  slight  her  on 
account  of  her  want  of  beauty,  and  if  he 
treat  her  harshly  on  this  account,  he  is  a 
brute.  But  it  requires  a  greater  degree  of 
reflection  and  consideration  than  falls  to  the 
lot  of  men  in  general  to  make  them  act  with 
justice  in  such  a  case ;  and,  therefore,  the 
best  way  is  to  guard,  if  you  can,  against  the 
temptation  to  commit  such  injustice,  which 
is  to  be  done  in  no  other  way,  than  by  not 
marrying  any  one  that  you  do  not  think 
handsome. 

Robust  health  in  wife  and  mother  is  al 
most  as  indispensable  as  in  husband  and 
father.  He  requires  one  who  helps^  not  hin 
ders,  and  can  take  part  in  their  mutual  labors 
and  interests.  Animal  vigor  is  the  para- 
II 


mount  prerequisite  of  everything  terrestrial. 
Without  it  none  can  think  clearly,  or  love 
heartily.  A  nervous  woman  may  cry  franti 
cally  when  you  leave  her,  but  these  morbid 
tears  are  worse  than  none.  Whether  &  wife 
is  chosen  to  love  and  ile  loved,  to  live  with 
or  help  along,  or  even  as  a  drudge,  a  health} 
one  is  a  hundred  times  better  than  a  sickly. 
A  Living  Death. 

Rosy  children  constitute  the  great  ulti 
mate  of  marriage,  and  are  worth  a  thousand 
fold  more  than  sickly  ones ;  but  their  consti* 
tutional  health  depends  much  on  that  of 
their  mother,  whose  office  is  to  impart  vital 
ity  to  her  young.  Yet  how  can  she  impart 
what  she  does  not  possess?  Those  whc 
marry  weakly  girls  may  expect  their  little, 
feeble,  sickly  children  to  cry  night  and  day, 
require  continual  nursing  and  doctoring,  and 
then  torture  them  with  fears  lest  any  atmos 
pheric  change  should  blow  them  into  a  pre 
mature  grave,  after  parental  heartstrings 
have  become  fully  entwined  around  them. 
But,  to  crown  all,  after  bestowing  a  full  manly 
soul  on  a  poor  delicate  creature,  besides  all 
the  loss  of  her  health  and  cost  of  her  weak- 
liness,  to  be  tortured  by  fit  after  fit  of  sick 
ness,  till  he*  very  helplessness  and  sufferings 
have  only  redoubled  your  tender  sympathy ; 
see  her  torn  from  you  by  death ;  inter  her 
emaciated  corpse  by  the  side  of  that  of  youi 
darling  babe,  and  return  a  heart-broken 
widower  to  your  now  desolate  home  ;  youi 
life  spoiled,  because  you  married  that  delicate 
Miss  ;  whereas,  by  marrying  a  healthy  one, 
you  could  just  as  well  have  raised  a  goodly 
family  of  brisk,  blooming  children,  and  had 
a  healthy,  long-lived  helpmate,  is  indeed 
terrible. 

Where  is  your  sense,  foresight,  and  busi 
ness  sagacity,  that  you  lay  a  train  for  these 
dreadful  consequences,  when  you  might  just 
as  well  lay  oiie  fur  felicitous  ones  instead  ? 


1 62 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


Or  perhaps  she  barely  lives  along,  feeble,  full 
of  aches  and  ailments  ;  just  able  to  go  about ; 
becomes  unable  to  go  with  you  to  field  or 
garden,  lecture-room  or  concert,  to  ride  or 
walk,  or  take  part  with  you  in  your  recrea 
tions  or  labors  ;  tame  in  character,  because 
sickly ;  languid  in  all  her  pleasures,  thoughts, 
and  desires ;  exact,  exacting,  and  difficult  to 
please ;  not  able  to  relish  the  finest  peach ; 
discontented ;  dissatisfied ;  practically  im 
peaching  all  you  say  and  do  for  her ;  taking 
everything  the  cross-grained  way ;  censuring 
and  irritating  all,  because  in  a  censuring 
mood ;  her  natural  loveliness  turned  into  bit 
terness  ;  all  her  mental  faculties  retro  verted  ; 
both  awakening  pity  and  provoking  anger, 
because,  like  a  sick  baby,  always  in  a  cross 
mood ;  nothing  like  that  sweet,  soft,  winning, 
complaisant  woman  she  once  was,  and  would 
again  be  if  again  healthy.  Please  figure  out 
the  profits  and  losses  of  a  healthy  wife  over  a 
sickly.  One  exclaimed,  after  having  buried 
a  weakly  wife  and  all  his  children,  "  Well, 
next  time,  I'll  marry  a  healthy  girl,  if  I  have 
to  marry  an  Irish  girl.  "  How  can  sensible 
men  trifle  with  their  dearest  interests, 
pecuniary  and  affectional,  as  those  do  who 
marry  weakly  women  ?  Still,  marriage  will 
often  restore  them. 

A  farmer,  condoled  for  the  loss  of  his 
wife,  replied,  "  Oh,  not  so  very  great  a  loss 
either,  for  she  has  not  been  down  cellar  these 
five  years  !"  while  another,  on  losing  one  who 
made  excellent  butter,  said,  "I  had  rather 
lost  any  two  of  my  cows ;  because  she  made 
such  proper  good  butter-  "  Though  a  sick 


ly  wife  is  better  than  none,  yet  one  medium 
in  many  other  respects,  but  healthy,  is  many 
fold  preferable  to  one  superior  in  most  other 
respects,  yet  sickly.  Words  cannot  do  justice 
to  this  subject. 

Yet  a  robust  woman  is  often  neglected,! 
and  delicate  prized.  Ladies  even  boast  of 
their  weaknesses,  headaches,  sideaches,  back 
aches,  nervousness,  sleeplessness,  "com 
plaints  "  here,  there,  everywhere — boasting 
that  they  don't  know  enough  to  get  and 
keep  well,  and  are  all  nerve ! 

Nervousness  is  their  paramount  ailment 
How  common,  how  almost  universal.  Why  1 
Because  pushed  right  from  cradle  into  school, 
and  kept  there  till  too  late  to  develop  phys 
ically.  What  martyrdom  ?  Novels,  feverish 
love,  late  parties,  self-abuse,  with  an  in-door 
life,  and  many  other  like  educational  causes, 
complete  the  ruin  of  their  sensory  systems, 
and  make  them  nervous  wrecks.  Of  course 
their  precocious  children  are  few,  and  die 
by  millions,  while  those  that  live  are  weakly* 
And  this  evil  redoubles  apace. 

Robustness  and  exquisiteness  are  com 
patible.  Nothing  in  either  conflicts  with 
anything  in  the  other.  People  think  other 
wise,  but  mistake.  Excellent  muscles,  di 
gestion,  circulation,  rather  promote  than 
prevent  refinement.  So  does  a  hearty  sex 
uality,  passion  included.  Indeed,  a  sexless 
passive  woman  cannot  be  exquisite,  yet  may 
be  morbid.  To  create  and  augment  this  ex 
quisiteness,  so  as  to  transmit  it,  is  the  specific 
office  of  sexuality.  Nature  knows  what  she 
wants  and  has  provided  for  it 


CHAPTER   XV. 

The  Model  Husband. 


^ROFESSOR  FOWLER  well  says  that 
animal  power  is  the  great  base  of 
all  capacity,  all  functional  excellence. 
What  is  life  without  health?  What  are  the 
sickly  worth  to  themselves,  families,  or  the 
world?  As  a  machine,  however  well  adapted 
to  execute  the  best  of  work,  is  worthless 
without  motive  power ;  so  animal  stamina  is 
the  first  prerequisite  for  companionship.  A 
good  physique  is  indispensable  even  to  men 
tal  power  and  moral  excellence,  which  wax, 
frane,  or  become  vitiated,  according  to  ex 
isting  physical  conditions. 

Men  always  have  worshipped,  will  worship, 
at  the  shrine  of  female  beauty,  and  woman 
at  that  of  masculine  strength;  both  of  which 
consist  mainly  in  vigorous  animal  condi 
tions.  I^et  those  girls  who  know  no  better, 
choose  little-faced,  little-footed,  small-boned, 
shrivelled,  soft-handed,  soft-headed,  nervous, 
white-livered  young  men,  well  nigh  emascu 
lated  by  their  effeminate  habits ;  but  you  do 
not  want  them.  They  may  answer  merely 
to  beau  you  into  and  out  of  a  parlor  or  ball 
room,  or  escort  you  to  a  party  or  picnic,  or 
for  flirtation ;  but  they  will  make  miserable 
husbands,  because  they  are  not  sick  enough 
to  nurse,  nor  well  enough  to  excite  your 
whole-souled  love,  and  are  so  fidgety  and 
irritable  that  to  please  or  love  them  is  impos 
sible. 

Indoor  clerks  and  puny  dandies  are  indeed 
more  polite  than  sturdy  farmers  and  mechan 
ics  ;  but  as  conjugal  partners,  robust  work 
men  are  altogether  preferable.  Men  who 
remain  much  within  doors  must  exercise 
foily,  or  suffer  the  decline  of  their  manli 


ness.  Are  not  good,  firm  health  and  a  hardy 
constitution  quite  as  safe  a  reliance  for  tha 
support  of  a  family  as  capital  in  business  T 
Does  not  ability  to  work  exceed  bank  stock! 

Miss  Young  America  stands  badly  in  hel 
own  light  by  refusing  the  hardy  farmer  and 
resolute  mechanic  for  the  more  accomplished 
but  less  reliable  clerk,  or  idle  inheritor  of  a 
fortune.  These  anti-working  ideas  of  both 
sexes  are  rendering  them  almost  unmarriage1 
able  just  from  their  muscular  inertia,  and 
ruining  future  generations.  At  this  rate  oi 
decline,  what  feeble,  delicate  mortals  de 
scendants  must  become  in  the  next  genera 
tion?  And  as  few  as  weakly !  Yet  indi 
viduals  are  not  to  blame.  Our  societariau 
customs  are  thus  fatal  to  our  future.  Oui 
men  rush  from  work  to  study,  or  some  seden 
tary  employment,  or  else  to  business.  Theit 
minds  must  be  educated  at  the  expense  oi 
their  constitutions,  to  the  ruin  of  both.  \( 
they  adopt  business,  they  become  so  anxious, 
and  apply  their  minds  so  long  and  labori 
ously,  as  to  sap  the  very  roots  of  animal 
power,  and  become  poor  and  delicate  before 
old  enough  to  marrr.  Our  nation  cannot 
long  survive  these  enervating  habits,  except 
by  renewed  importations.  Woman,  patron' 
ize  muscle,  not  dandyism.  Smile  on 
strength,  not  delicacy.  And,  young  man, 
indoors  and  out,  make  health  paramount, 
both  for  its  own  sake,  and  that  of  your  pros 
pective  wife;  and  also  for  its  indispensa- 
bility  to  the  matrimonial  and  parental  rela 
tions. 

Health,  pluck,  courage  to  face  the  world 
and  conquer  it,  are  what  you  want 


1 64 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


A  girl  is  not  to  be  despised  and  rejected 
because  she  has  wealth  Even  rich  ladies 
may  be  beautiful,  genuine,  affectionate,  do 
mestic,  and  not  to  blame  for  having  plenty 
of  cash.  Poverty  is  not  a  virtue.  Yet  dol- 
~  -?  bind  no  hearts,  and  hearts  warm  with 
Uie  and  love  are  the  only  things  that  count 


SIR  GEORGE  NARE8. 

Type  of  health  and  manhood ;  happy  combination 
of  the  mental,  moral  and  physical;  cool  and  ener 
getic  ;  Arctic  explorer,  who  discovered  the  relics  of  Sir 
John  Franklin. 

Love  alone  does  or  can  ever  become  the 
uniting  motive  of  a  hearty  sexual  union. 
Marrying  for  money  on  either  side  breaks 
Nature's  conjugal  laws,  and  punishes  every 
perpetrator.  Though  girls  may  look  well 
to  a  family  support,  yet  good  health  and  a 
willing  heart  are  a  more  reliable  support 
than  ready  money.  Where  industrious  pro 
posers  have  any  work  or  business,  love  will 
provide  the  balance.  Dismiss  any  who  have 
not. 

Yet  marrying  for  an  establishment  is  an 
outrageous  swindle.  Many,  rendered  heart 


less  by  disappointment,  turn  fortune-hunters 
That  hypocrite,  who  said,  "I  married  him 
for  his  money,  not  himself,"  will  make  his 
money  fly.  Wherein  do  such  differ  from 
"women  of  pleasure?"  Do  not  both  pros- 
titute  themselves  alike  for  money?  Who 
ever  marries  more  from  vanity  than  love,, 
prostitutes  this  most  sacred  human  senti 
ment,  and  will  be  punished  accordingly. 
Men  who  have  money  must  keep  a  sharp 
lookoi  it  for  such  vixen  deceivers. 

Matrimonial  Swindlers. 

Fortune-hunting  beau  !  You  shameless 
hypocrite  in  thus  pretending  to  love  a  wo 
man  only  to  rob  her  of  her  patrimony !  If 
money  is  your  motive,  say  so,  not  lie  out 
right  in  action  ;  and  a  lie  of  deeds  is  a  hun 
dred-fold  worse  than  one  merely  spoken. 
Spider,  coiling  your  web  around  your  unsus 
pecting  victim,  and  she  a  young  lady,  only 
that  you  may  live  on  her  money !  and  coax 
her  to  lave  you  for  it  besides!  Dastardly 
villain,  ten  times  more  despicable  than 
gamblers  who  profess  to  rob,  while  you  rob 
in  the  most  hypocritical  disguise  a  man  can 
assume  to  woman.  Thieves  and  swindlers 
are  comparative  saints ;  for  they  leave  some, 
while  you  grasp  all.  They  rob  men  of  only 
dollars,  while  you  rob  a  female  of  her  heart 
as  well  as  purse;  they  by  night,  you  by 
night  and  day ;  they  strangers,  you  an  inti 
mate;  they  under  cover  of  darkness,  you 
under  that  of  love ;  they  by  false  keys,  but 
you  by  false  pretences. 

Whoever  marries  a  woman  for  her  money, 
swindles  her  by  false  pretences  out  of  the 
patrimony  her  doting  parents  have  treasured 
up  for  her  life-long  support,  and  then  abuse 
her ;  for  all  who  thus  marry,  abuse  thus.  I 
Breaking  locks  is  innocence  in  comparison 
with  breaking  hearts ;  for  this  both  shortens 
her  life  and  spoils  its  remainder.  If  retri 
butive  Nature  should  let  such  transgression 


THE  MODEL  HUSBAND. 


165 


of  her  statutes  go  "  tin-whipped  of  justice," 
"  the  very  stones  would  cry  aloud  for  ven 
geance."  She  visits  iniquity  in  the  day,  and 
the  way  of  the  sin.  Such  sin  causes  its  own 
suffering,  by  putting  you  in  a  mean,  depend 
ent  position. 

A  Quaker  worth  two  shillings  married  a 
Quakeress  worth  three,  who  twitted  him 
every  little  while  thus:  "Anyhow,  I  was 
worth  the  most  at  our  marriage!"  One 
who  knows  "by  sad  experience"  says,  "I 
would  as  soon  cut  off  my  arms  as  again 
marry  any  woman  with  one  dollar,  or  more 
than  one  common  dress." 

A  fellow  married  a  woman's  money,  she 
being  thrown  in — and  it  sometimes  takes 
piles  of  money  to  make  the  "thrown  in" 
even  endurable — with  which  a  splendid  rid 
ing-establishment  was  procured,  in  which 
she  wanted  to  ride  with  another  man,  to 
which  he  objected,  when  she  replied : 
"Know  in  the  start,  sir,  that  my  money 
bought  this  establishment ;  so  I  calculate  to 
ride  when,  where,  and  with  whom  I  like; 
and  you,  puppy,  must  grin  and  bear  it,  pa 
tiently  too." 

"Your  money  bought  me  too,"  was  his 
meeching  reply.  How  must  such  feel,  all 
"bought  up,"  "owned,"  "supported,"  and 
by  a  woman.  And  expected  in  return  to 
"  dance  attendance."  "  I  bought  you  cheap ; 
see  that  you  serve  me  well;"  yet  she  "paid 
too  dear  for  her  whistle"  then.  She  will 
thrust  your  dependence  into  your  face  every 
hour  by  looks,  words,  and  actions,  and  oblige 
you,  poor  coot,  to  grin  and  bear  whatever 
stripes  she  chooses  to  impose.  You  will 
soon  find  yourself  where  the  nether  end  of 
the  kite  is — tacked  on  behind  and  below,  and 
switched  around  briskly  during  every  blow. 
Served  you  right,  you  mercenary  hypocrite. 
You  have  ignored  womanhood,  intelligence, 
thrift,  everything  except  a  few  paltry  dollars. 


Verily,  poltroon,  if  you  really  must  b? 
supported,  you  will  find  the  county  poor- 
house  preferable  to  the  matrimonial ;  for  she 
will  keep  you  under  her  harrow,  and  har 
row  you  worse  than  any  other  poor  toady 
ever  was  harrowed;  but  you  deserve  all 


MISS  CLARA  GREENWALD. 

of  the  perfect  woman ;  bright,  self-reliant, 
strong  in  mind  and  body ;  school-teacher  at  the  age  01 
thirteen,  the  youngest  in  the  United  States. 

And  yet  our  highways  and  byways,  even 
churches,  are  literally  thronged  with  these 
miserable,  "shiftless,"  deceitful,  scalliwag, 
pilgrim  travelers  in  search  of  a  matrimonial 
poor-house.  A  woman  cannot  have  a  paltry 
five  hundred  dollars  without  being  literally 
besieged  for  it.  And  any  man  who  gets  it 
will  be  a  toady  husband  all  his  life. 

Independence  is  an  attribute  of  manli 
ness.  Let  me  make  my  own  fortune,  rather 
even  than  inherit  it,  and  live  by  the  sweat 
of  my  own  brow,  in  preference  even  to  that 
of  my  father's.  Enough  to  derive  from 
parents  name,  character,  and  support,  till 
barely  able  to  support  self.  This  venality  of 
marriage  in  aristocratic  and  rich  families  is 
outrageous ;  yet  is  onset  by  the  wife  having 


-66 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


her  "  chere  ami"  or  lover,  wholly  irrespect 
ive  of  her  husband,  who  only  possesses  her 
dowry  and  fortune,  while  another  has  he* 
heart.  Would  this  were  all ! 

One  of  England's  richest  heiresses,  while 
glistening  in  diamonds,  evinced  the  most 
hopeless  melancholy  in  the  midst  of  the 
gayest  assembly.  Religious  herself,  she 
loved  a  divine;  but  her  proud  family  in 
sisted  that  she  should  marry  wealth ;  yet  she 
paid  them  back,  by  pertinaciously  refusing 
to  marry  at  all ;  and  is  most  miserable  in 
spite  of  untold  riches,  and  more  hopelessly 
wretched  than  her  penniless  washerwoman. 
Nature  always  punishes  such  breaches  of 
her  laws  by  spoiling  the  life  of  both  victims. 
Did  not  the  world-renowned  conjuga*  diffi 
culties  of  Lady  Norton  originate  in  a  mone 
tary  alliance?  Have  we  not  proved  that 
love  alone  is  the  guardian  of  virtue?  A 
rich,  proud,  stern  father  obliges  his  daughter 
to  marry  one  she  loathes.  This  compels  her 
either  to  die  broken-hearted,  or  else  to  love 
outside  of  wedlock;  the  necessary  conse 
quence  of  which  is  either  infidelity,  or  else 
the  starvation  of  her  love-element. 
You  Can  Spoil  Your  Wife. 

I  am  to  suppose  that  you  have  made  a 
good  choice ;  but  a  good  young  woman  may 
be  made,  by  a  weak,  a  harsh,  a  neglectful, 
an  extravagant,  or  a  profligate  husband,  a 
really  bad  wife  and  mother.  All  in  a  wife, 
beyond  her  own  natural  disposition  and  edu 
cation  is,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  the  work  of 
her  husband. 

The  first  thing  of  all,  be  the  rank  in  life 
what  it  may,  is  to  convince  her  of  the  necess- 
'ly  of  moderation  in  expense  ;  and  to  make 
'her  clearly  see  the  justice  of  beginning  to  act 
upon  the  presumption,  that  there  are  children 
coming,  that  they  are  to  be  provided  for,  and 
that  she  is  to  assist  in  the  making  of  that 
provision.  Legally  speaking,  we  have  a 


right  to  do  what  we  please  with  our 
property,  which,  however,  is  not  our  OWL, 
unless  it  exceed  our  debts.  And,  morally 
speaking,  we,  at  the  moment  of  our  marriag^ 
contract  a  debt  with  the  naturally  to  be  ex 
pected  fruit  of  it ;  and  therefore  the  scale  of 
expense  should,  at  the  beginning,  be  as  lov. 
as  that  of  which  a  due  attention  to  rank  iu 
life  will  admit. 

Love  Sweetens   Life. 

The  power  of  love  is  perfectly  magical 
for  happiness,  when  its  laws  are  obeyed  ;  for 
misery,  when  they  are  violated.  Not  a  tithe 
of  the  love  inherent  in  all  is  ever  called 
forth  ;  because  these  laws  are  little  observed ; 
and  this  because  few  understand  them  ;  not 
withstanding  all  the  hecatombs  of  works  and 
novels,  love  stories  included,  written  by  both 
men  and  women,  on  this  love  theme. 

Manifest  normal  male  or  female  nature  to 
wards  your  mate.  No  man  ever  did,  does, 
or  can  express  true  manly  attributes  to  his 
wife  without  proportionally  enamoring,  or 
unmanly  without  alienating  her.  How 
much  she  loves  him  depends  chiefly  on  how 
much  true  manhood  he  evinces  towards  her ; 
though  also  on  how  much  love  capacity  she 
has,  and  its  state.  As  far  as  you  feel  and 
express  true  manly  attributes,  you  enamor 
your  wife  ;  but  as  far  as  you  depart  there 
from,  you  excite  her  loathing  and  disgust; 
even  though  she  has  no  idea  just  what  she 
likes  and  dislikes. 

Hence  being  the  true  man  to  her,  attains 
two  most  glorious  human  ends — perfect? 
your  own  manly  nature,  and  enamors  her0 
As  every  man  who  does  business  should 
pride  himself  on  doing  it  in  the  best  manner 
possible  ;  so  every  man  should  pride  himself 
on  being  true  to  manhood,  and  attaining  its 
two  ends,  a  wife's  love,  and  fine  offspring. 

Being  the  true  woman  enamors  a  husband, 
and  compels  him  to  love  her  in  proportion- : 


THE  MODEL  HUSBAND. 


167 


yet  just  as  far  as  any  wife  departs  from  a  true 
feminine  comportment  towards  him,  she 
obliges  him  to  taste  and  loathe  her  unfemi- 
uine  bitterness.  Many  wives  take  great  pains 
and  pride  in  being  "  in  fashion, "  yet  none  to 
be  or  act  the  genuine  woman ;  whereas,  be 
ing  a  mere  fashionable  in  comparison  with  a 
true  woman,  is  like  having  only  a  farthing 
compared  with  a  fortune. 

AS  gold  is  better  than  brass,  as  diamonds 
are  worth  more  than  pebbles,  so  a  true,  noble, 
queenly  woman  is  angelic  compared  with  a 
weaK,  empty,  painted  butterfly  dressed  up  in 
female  clothes,  an  imposition  upon  ber  sex. 

Gallantry  and  Politeness, 

Gallantry,  polite  attentions  from  gentle 
men  to  ladies,  including  their  pleasant, 
grateful  reception  by  ladies,  is  primal  law  of 
love  having  maternity  for  its  base.  Thus  a 
man  and  a  woman,  a  perfect  gentleman  and 
lady,  meet  at  table,  on  steamboat,  in  parlor, 
anywhere.  Their  sexual  natures  impose  on 
each  towards  the  other  a  comportment 
quite  unlike  that  due  from  either  sex  to  its 
own.  They  mutually  like,  admire,  each 
other ;  this  prompts  still  more  gallant  atten 
tions  from  him  to  her,  with  their  thankful  re 
ception.  This  begets  that  mutual  love 
which  inspires  more  and  more  of  this  identi 
cal  reciprocal  treatment  the  more  they  love. 
They  marry ;  this  requires  and  begets  still 
more  of  this  same  comportment ;  and  their 
becoming  parents  together  more  yet ;  because 
reproduction  is  the  rationale  of  all  males,  all 
females. 

Think  within  yourselves  just  how  a  per 
fect  gentleman  should  treat  a  perfect  lady, 
and  she  him ;  and  then  be  and  do  more  so. 
What  is  being  a  gentleman  but  expressing 
manly  characteristics  gently?  Think  out 
just  what  that  signifies.  Analyze  gallantry, 
a  word  that  has  always  been  used  to  desig 
nate  that  courteous  way  ma'e  birds  evince 


towards  female,  always  considerate;  or  the 
way  in  which  all  males  naturally  treat  all 
females.  Note  the  attentive,  kind,  generous, 
tender,  sympathetic  attentions  all  model 
gentlemen  bestow  on  model  ladies,  and  treat 
your  wife  accordingly ;  and  you  will  soon 
find  her  "dead in  love,"  literally  infatuated 
with  you.  Do  gentlemen  behave  or  speak 
rudely  to  ladies?  or  frown,  scowl,  sulk,  ol 
swear,  before  them?  or  ever  tease,  blame, 
scold,  provoke,  or  satirize  them  ?  Are  they 
not  refined,  polite,  attentive  to  their  wants, 
and  complimentary?  Would  one  angry 
frown  distort  their  pleasant  countenances,  or 
rude  act  mar  their  polished  bearing?  Would 
they  not  watchfully  discern  and  commend 
every  charm,  draw  the  mantle  of  charity 
over  all  faults,  and  tear  out  their  tongues 
sooner  than  upbraid? 

An  Angel  Abroad  and  a  Devil  at  Home. 

Yet  how  often  do  legal  husbands  commit 
improprieties  and  perpetrate  downright  vul 
garities  to  and  before  their  wives  oi  which 
they  would  no  more  be  guilty  towards  other 
ladies  than  forfeit  their  reputation  as  gentle 
men?  or  if  they  did,  they  would  be  ban 
ished  from  genteel  female  society ;  and  yet 
wonder  why  their  wives  do  not  love  them  ! 
For  a  husband  to  be  ever  so  extra  genteel, 
gallant,  spruce,  talkative,  gay,  lively,  com 
plimentary,  and  much  more  besides,  to  other 
ladies,  yet  dull,  listless,  commonplace,  unap- 
preciative  and  inattentive  to  his  wife,  is  a 
conjugal  outrage  which  must  forestall  fur 
ther  love,  and  kill  existing.  Yet  no  matter 
how  gallant  to  others,  provided  he  is  more 
so  to  her. 

A  widow  lady  and  daughter  living  next 
door  to  a  man  and  his  wife,  each  dropping 
in  and  out  without  ceremony,  often  rode  out 
with  them.  One  day,  riding  only  with  his 
wife,  he  became  enraged  at  his  horse,  whip 
ping  and  swearing  terribly.  After  being  re- 


168 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


seated,  his  wife  gently  dropping  her  hand 
on  his,  asked  him  pleasantly  whether  he 
thought  he  would  have  acted  thus  if  Mrs. 

and  Miss had  been  along?  to  which  he 

replied : 

"Of  course  not,  because  it  would  drive 
*3iem  away  from  me ;  but  since  we  are  mar 
ried,  you  cannot  help  yourself,  whatever  I 
may  do." 

What  a  heathenish  answer !  Who  won 
ders  that  she  turned  a  woman's-rights  apos 
tle?  But  if  the  married  will  simply  follow 
this  rule,  which  those  in  love  cannot  help 
observing,  their  honey-moon  will  last  a  life 
time. 

"  Patherick,  why  can't  we  live  as  pacable 
and  loving  togither  as  that  cat  and  dog?" 

"Jist  tie  'm  togither,  and  see  how  they'll 
fight!" 

A  wife's  thankful  reception  of  her  hus 
band's  attentions  is  as  much  more  due  to 
him  than  a  lady's  to  a  gentleman's,  as  the 
former  should  love  more. 

A  young  married  man  treated  his  bride 
very  gallantly  at  table,  waited  on  her  him 
self  as  far  as  possible,  and  had  servants  wait 
on  her  in  double-quick  time,  comporting 
himself  towards  her  in  a  true  conjugal  man 
ner;  while  she  received  his  gallant  atten 
tions  with  indifference.  Meeting  them  at 
another  table  a  few  weeks  afterwards,  he  had 
discontinued  them ;  and  doubtless  that  for 
lorn  woman  is  to-day  pining  in  secret  be 
cause  he  has  ceased  to  treat  her  as  tenderly 
as  of  yore,  and  sighing  over  the  difference 
between  young  lovers  before  marriage,  and 
these  same  men  after  their  honey-moon  has 
set;  little  realizing  that  she  herself  fore 
stalled  and  killed  them  by  her  passive  re 
ception  of  them.  Wives,  may  not  the  in 
difference  of  some  of  your  husbands  have  a 
like  origin? 

Every  wife  must  repay  by  thankful  pleas 


antness  what  attentions  she  receives  from 
husband  more  than  ladies  gentlemen,  and 
thank  the  more  the  more  she  desires ;  and 
deserves  no  more  than  is  thus  paid  for. 
Her  passive  indifference  forestalls  his  future 
proffers. 

Cold  Treatment. 

No  thankless  wife  deserves  or  will  long 
receive  attentions  and  courtesies  from  hei 
husband.  Wives,  remember  that  thanking 
husband  pleasantly,  even  coquettishly,  for 
all  the  favors  he  does  grant,  is  your  best  way 
to  inspire  him  to  bestow  more ;  while  "  you 
ought  to,  and  no  thanks  either,  because 
you've  married  me,"  will  soon  kill  his  love 
and  courtesy  together. 

A  wife's  gratitude  is  a  husband's  nectar. 
Love  can  never  co-exist  with  ungentlemanly 
or  unladylike  treatment. 

"  This  seems  all  right  in  theory,"  you  say, 
"  but  imposes  on  us  men  a  burden  too  great 
for  any  to  carry.  No  husbands  do  or  can 
treat  their  wives  thus." 

Those  in  love  cannot  help  it.  So  far 
from  this  treatment  being  a  task,  it  is  a 
luxury.  A  deep,  abiding  affection  will 
prompt  all  this,  and  much  more.  This  mu 
tual  treatment  actually  does  and  must  pro 
portionally  obtain  between  all  who  love  ; 
yet  declines  as  love  wanes.  Indifferent  man 
ners  accompany  indifferent  hearts;  while 
reversed  love  renders  behavior  perfectly 
hateful.  Though  he  who  dislikes  his  wife 
may  try  to  and  think  he  really  does  do  his 
whole  duty  to  and  treat  her  about  right,  yet 
all  his  actions  towards  her  are  abominable, 
and  a  perpetual  insult ;  because  his  feelings 
are  so  ;  though  perhaps  neither  can  specify 
exactly  wherein. 

But  many  say,  "  We  wives  have  so  many 
cares  and  vexations,  the  more  aggravating 
by  their  very  insignificance,  that  we  cannot 
always  be  as  winning  and  coquettish  as  care* 


THE  MODEL  HUSBAND. 


169 


less  girls;  cannot  help  feeling  cross,  and 
acting  ugly.  None  realize  how  much  we 
have  to  sour,  and  little  to  sweeten,  our 
tempers." 

Does  fretting  over  troubles  remove,  does 
it  not  aggravate  them?  And  necessarily 
alienate  a  husband  besides?  He  may  pity 
his  irritable,  irritating,  fussy,  fidgety  wife  as 
he  would  a  sick  child  ;  yet  such  wives  are  an 
abomination  to  all  husbands.  Men  do  love 
sweetness  in  women,  cannot  but  hate  cross 
ness. 

IJove-Spats. 

Pride  of  character  is  one  of  man's  best  and 
woman's  strongest  traits ;  and  in  this  country, 
enormous  and  inflated.  All  fashions,  respec 
tability,  society,  come  from  it.  Honor,  am 
bition  to  be  first,  emulation  to  excel,  love  of 
display,  are  its  products.  Only  love  surpasses 
it  as  an  incentive  to  effort.  Insults,  by  re 
versing  it,  create  the  fiercest  rage. 

In  all  women  it  is  excessive  and  inflated, 
while  its  perpetual  stimulation  by  praise  from 
cradle  to  marriage,  usually  renders  it  a  real 
feminine  insanity.  Praise  delights  it ;  and 
is  due  for  every  good  deed.  Blame  outrages 
it,  and  when  not  deserved,  is  most  unjust 
Stealing  is  no  worse  than  falsely  accusing ; 
as  is  most  scolding.  Praise  kindles,  blame 
kills,  love;  especially  in  woman.  Nothing 
equally.  How  very  much  she  does  set  by 
tokens  of  masculine  appreciation,  and  is  cut 
by  depreciation  ?  On  both  she  is  indeed  a 
little  soft.  She  was  wisely  created  thus. 
This  trait  is  inherent  in  her,  and  must  be 
respected. 

She  deserves  commendation  for  all  her 
good,  condemnation  for  few  bad,  deeds.  Why 
is  not  ambition  entitled  to  its  pay  for  good 
services  rendered,  as  much  as  acquisition  for 
goods  delivered?  Is  not  neglecting  to  pay 
its  dues  as  disgraceful  and  palpably  wrong 
as  not  paying  a  monetary  note?  When  a 


wife  has  done  her  best  to  get  up  a  good 
dinner,  even  though  she  fails,  is  she  not  as 
justly  entitled  to  her  pay  in  praise  as  that 
grocer  in  dollars  for  flour?  Bestowing  it 
will  surprise  you  that  she  sets  so  very  much 
by  it,  in  its  delighting  her  so  that,  unless  hei 
love  is  already  chilled  out  by  neglect,  she  can 
hardly  contain  herself.  Though  so  very  easy 
to  cancel  these  love  dues  by  appreciation,  yet 
how  seldom  are  they  "honored?"  But  how 
cruelly  aggravating,  how  very  wicked,  to 
blame  her  after  she  has  done  her  best  to 
please?  Scolded  wives  do  ten  times  less, 
praised,  twenty  times  more,  than  blamed 
ones. 

A  superb  wife,  married  two  years,  said : 

"One  whole  year  I  tried  my  best  to  suit  my 
husband,  avoid  his  blame,  and  get  his  praise ; 
but  the  harder  I  tried  the  worse  I  fared.  My 
meat,  too  rare  yesterday,  was  overdone  to 
day.  I  fretted,  cried,  prayed  over  it  till  I 
found  I  must  give  up  to  die,  or  else  fight  it 
ofE  I  chose  the  latter,  and  steeled  my  heart 
against  him  and  his  eternal  grumblings,  even 
scolded  back ;  and  a  wretched  life  we  have 
lived.  If  required  to  choose  between  another 
such  marriage  and  death,  I  certainly  prefer 
to  die.  " 

Such  cases  abound  ;  yet  are  not  all  on  one 
side,  as  many  a  hen-pecked  husband,  who 
deserves  only  praise,  can  attest 

Finding  fault  engenders  more  marital 
alienations  than  most  other  causes  com 
bined  ;  stabs  love  right  under  its  fifth  rib ; 
spills  its  warm  life-blood  ;  and  must  never 
on  any  account  be  inflicted  by  or  on  either. 
Blame  from  one's  own  sex  is  most  provoking 
and  unendurable:  but  from  the  opposite, 
absolutely  outrageous.  No  concatenation  of 
circumstances  can  justify  it  This  is  not  the 
way  the  sexes  were  ordained  to  lessen  each 
other's  faults,  or  promote  each  other's  virtues. 
All  scolding  is  but  driving  and  threatening  i 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


which  makes  even  boys,  much  more  men, 
defiant  and  vindictive.  Driving  contrary 
mules  is  easy  in  comparison. 

Your  first  spat  is  worse  than  your  house 
.burning.  Put  it  right  out,  or  it  will  con 
sume  your  future  conjugal  bliss.  Even  your 
first  blame,  if  only  by  implication,  and  seem 
ingly  trifling,  is  really  horrible,  in  itself  and 
its  effects.  If  you  do  not  have  the  first,  you 
will  never  have  any ;  but  the  first  is  about 
sure  to  breed  multitudes  of  those  "little 
foxes  that  spoil  the  vines  "  of  love. 

No  scolding,  haggling  woman  can  ever 
nope  to  retain  a  man's  affection  for  any  great 
length  of  time. 

Curtain  Lectures. 

Curtain  lectures  are  far  the  worst,  be 
cause  spleen  boiled  down ;  and  all  on  one 
side.  Be  fatigue,  nervousness,  female  com 
plaints,  or  anything  else  their  cause,  they 
are  utterly  without  excuse,  and  absolutely 
heathenish. 

All  Mrs.  Caudles  are  stark  mad  fools,  and 
deserve  to  go  to  both  the  lunatic  and  idiot 
asylums.  They  cut  off  their  noses  to  spite 
their  faces.  They  curtail  their  own  supplies 
and  hurt  themselves  ten,  yes,  a  thousand-fold 
more  than  their  scolded  husbands.  Every 
iota  of  censure,  implied  equally  with  ex 
pressed,  kills  love,  and  all  those  favors  it 
bestows ;  takes  both  off  from  the  male  and 
female  plane  only  to  put  them  on  one 
.r-.erely  human,  and  antagonistic  at  that. 
No  scolded  husband,  unless  angelic,  will  do 
any  more  for  his  scolding  wife  than  com 
pelled  to.  All  Caudles,  all  scolds,  even 
fault-finders,  remember  this : 
,  All  blame  makes  your  next  dress  much 
longer — in  coming — yet  much  shorter,  when 
it  does  come ;  and  poorer  in  quality ;  and 
thus  of  everything  else ;  because  even  stingy 
men  give  lavishly  to  women  they  love,  yet 
naturally  generous  ones  are  niggardly  to 


those  they  dislike.  Yet,  as  a  rule,  scolds 
deserve  more  pity  than  blame.  Sexual  ail 
ments  and  reversed  love  are  the  chief  causes. 
Hen-pecking  wives,  what !  Love  a  cowed, 
humble,  meeching,  subdued  husband  ;  or  he 
you,  after  you  have  broken  his  spirits  J  Or 
if  so,  shame  on  you  and  him. 

Hen-pecked  Husbands. 

What  shall  a  hen-pecked  husband  dof 
Let  her  peck  away,  and  say  nothing,  because, 
i.  Fighting  a  woman,  however  justly,  is 
mean,  despicable.  2.  Unsuccessful ;  for  no 
fighting  woman  can  possibly  be  conquered, 
ever.  3.  Talking  back  only  spills  still  more 
fat  into  the  fierce  fire.  She  "  will  have  the 
last  word,"  and  use  you  up.  Every  woman's 
tongue  is  longer  and  sharper  than  any  man's 
sword.  Keeping  her  from  beginning  battle.,, 
is  your  only  resort ;  for,  once  begun,  you 
are  worsted  in  advance. 

Put  your  ear-trumpet  behind  your  ear.  A 
patient  husband,  married  to  a  terrific  scold, 
unable  to  hear  except  through  an  ear-trumpet, 
knowing  from  her  looks  and  manner  when 
ever  she  was  scolding,  always  put  his  ear- 
trumpet  behind  his  ears.  Of  course  when 
she  scolded  into  it  he  could  not  hear  a  word 
she  said,  and  so  never  answered  back. 

Does  taming  the  shrew  by  being  so  much 
more  violent  and  abusive  than  she  is  as  to 
frighten  and  subdue  her,  express  a  law,  ap 
plicable  to  the  best  way  for  managing  high- 
strung  wives?  Its  Shakespearian  origin  is 
high  authority.  It  might  subdue  some 
merely  pampered  indulged  women ;  yet  the 
experiment  is  dangerous.  Letting  her  dis 
tinctly  understand  that  every  scold  lessens 
her  supplies  ;  that  the  more  scolding  the  less 
money,  and  less  more,  will  bring  most  shrews 
to  time,  by  touching  self-interest  and  their 
purse,  that  "  apple  of  their  eyes."  Better 
avoid  hostilities,  keep  mum,  starve  her  out, 
the  other  cheek," 


THE  MODEL  HUSBAND. 


171 


Yet,  as  it  is  woman's  nature  to  love,  in 
nine  cases  out  of  ten,  her  cross,  peevish,  sour 
temper  and  spit-fire  treatment  of  her  husband 
can  be  traced  either  to  her  own  tmsexed  con 
dition,  her  ill  health,  or  to  his  cold,  indiffer 
ent,  abusive  demeanor.  Men  angels  are  not 
30  common  that  you  stumble  over  them  at 
•every  step,  and  to  put  somewhat  of  the 
angelic  into  the  sterner  sex  is  the  aim  of 
these  practical  truths  and  admonitions. 

Every  scolding  husband  kills  woman's 
love,  just  as  all  fondling  develops  it;  there 
fore  all  you  passionate  wife-blamers  are  fools. 
You  know  not  on  which  side  your  own  bread 
is  buttered.  Leaving  your  wife  out  of  the 
question,  consider  the  effects  on  yourselves. 
Blame,  by  reversing  her  love,  kills  her  pas 
sion  for  you,  and  thereby  your  own  enjoyment 
in  her.  Every  reproach  cuts  right  into  your 
own  marital  pleasures.  You  are  always  de 
feating  your  own  ends  by  scolding,  instead 
of  -oraising  her. 

Human  Porcupines. 

This  morning  you  said  some  cross,  sarcastic 
thing  to  your  wife  before  leaving  your  cham 
ber,  which  maddened  her.  At  breakfast  you 
scolded  or  cuffed  your  little  child,  on  which 
she  literally  dotes.  This  so  enraged  her  that 
she  let  your  dinner  go  by  default — she  doesn't 
care ;  and  though  you  forgot  all  about  it  the 
next  minute,  yet  you  pierced  her  very  soul 
with  two  barbed,  poisoned  arrows,  which 
rankled  there  all  day  long;  so  that  when 
night  comes  you  find  her  a  perfect  porcu 
pine,  and  yourself  disappointed  ;  whereas,  if 
this  morning  you  had  patted  her  cheek, 
praised  her  child,  and  told  it  to  be  good  to 
mother  all  day,  and  you'd  bring  it  something 
nice,  and  kissed  her  as  you  left,  with  "  Now, 
my  dear,  don't  worry  to-day,  and  we'll  have 
a  lovers'  walk  and  talk  when  I  return,"  she 
would  have  been  a  happy  responsive  wife. 

Behold   those  mated  birds.     When    one 


hops,  the  other  hops,  and  in  the  same  diree 
tion  ;  when  and  whither  one  flies,  then  and 
thither  the  other  also  flies  ;  wherever  either 
lights,  the  other  lights  on  the  same  treej 
what  one  eats,  both  eat  ;  and  when  one 
sings,  both  sing  together.  This  mutuality  is 


Low  intelligence  ;  strong  masculine  character ;  defi' 
cient  ir  moral  faculties ;  hostile  Sioux  Chief. 

equally  true  of  all  other  mating  animals ;  of 
which  the  deer,  lion,  tiger,  etc.,  furnish  illus 
trations.  Whenever  the  lioness  begins  to 
roar,  her  mate  chimes  in  and  roars  still 
louder.  All  mating  animals  are  always  to 
gether.  Killing  one  serpent  soon  brings  its 
mate.  The  law  of  doubles,  animals  mated 
perfectly,  runs  through  creation. 

When  a  fond  wife  is  invited  to  ride,  party, 
or  any  amusement,  how  often  does  she  pre 
fer  not  to  go  at  all  unless  accompanied  by 
her  husband  ;  because  she  can  enjoy  nothing 
alone  ?  A  young  wife  once  cried  as  if  het 
heart  would  break,  just  because  her  husband 
had  obtained  a  phrenological  delineation 
alone,  without  inviting  her  also  ;  thus  evinc 
ing  this  first  and  highest  attestation  of  genuine 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


172 

love.  This  probably  offended  him,  yet  was 
true  conjugality  in  her.  All  you  who  have 
experienced  this  divine  sentiment,  please  ana 
lyze  its  first  instinctive  workings,  and  attest 
whether  we  are  not  expounding  its  very  tap 
root  Did  you  not  feel  as  if  you  had  given 


MARSHALL   P.   WILDER. 

Active,  mental  temperament ;  quick  perceptions  and 
genial  disposition  ;  face  indicating  fine  social  and 
domestic  qualities ;  well-known  humorist  and  lecturer. 

off  a  part  of  your  own  very  self,  yet  taken 
on  a  part  of  your  loved  one's  identical  being? 
that  you  desired  to  live  only  in,  and  for^  and 
with  each  other  ?  that  to  be  separated  was 
like  tearing  your  very  self  in  twain  ? 

All  the  pleasures  of  wedlock  cluster  around 
and  depend  upon  this  very  sharing.  Enjoy 
a  given  walk,  ride,  scenery,  or  luxury  of  any 
kind  separately,  and  then  share  it  in  the 
spirit  of  affection  ;  this  sharing  redoubles  it 
many  times.  No  old  bachelors  or  dissatis 
fied  husbands,  none  who  have  no  woman  with 
whom  to  enjoy  life's  luxuries,  can  enjoy 
much. 

Hovels  Turned  to  Palaces. 

Let  them  "  drive  out "  in  the  finest  livery, 
be  served  by  the  most  servile  servant,  feast  on 


earth's  choicest  dainties,  drink  her  costliest 
nectars,  engage  in  labors  intrinsically  delight 
ful,  and  have  everything  heart  can  wish,  un 
less  a  loved  woman  hdps  enjoy  all,  accom* 
plish  all,  they  can  enjoy  and  accomplish  little, 
and  are  almost  nonentities  ;  while  prisons, 
shared  with  a  loving  woman,  become 
palaces,  tasks  pleasures,  and  all  things  de 
lightful.  You  who  know  little  of  the  lux 
uries  of  this  sharing,  may  think  you  enjoy 
much  ;  but  a  rich  sharing  experience  will 
prove  that  your  former  lonely  habits  render 
everything-  insipid. 

Two  Lives  in  One. 

Of  woman,  this  is  doubly  true.  Let  her 
who  has  no  husband  to  love,  or  with  whom 
to  share  her  lot,  dress  gayly,  sing  sweetly,  do 
and  be  whatever  she  pleases,  no  life-pleasures 
really  count  unless  shared  with  the  one  she 
loves.  Enjoying  alone,  like  talking  to  one's 
self,  is  better  than  nothing ;  but  how  spirit 
less  when  compared  with  this  intermingling 
of  two  loves!  Most  insipid  are  all  things 
not  thus  shared  ;  and  pitiable  those,  married 
and  single,  who  do  not  thus  share.  Let  me 
make  her  whom  I  have  chosen  and  who  has 
chosen  me,  my  very  bosom  life-companion 
and  my  privy  counsellor  in  everything ;  con 
fer  with  her  as  to  what  to  do,  and  how  to  do 
it ;  make  her  my  "  Aaron  and  Hur,  to  hold 
up  my  hands, "  and  encourage  my  heart ;  go 
with  me  where  I  must  go,  and  stay  with  me 
where  I  stay  ;  as  well  as  help  me  do  what  I 
must  do,  and  enjoy  everything  in  life  together 
"  And  in  death  let  us  not  be  divided.  " 

The  more  perfectly  the  married  establish 
this  sharing  in  all  the  other  relations  of  life, 
the  more  perfect  their  love,  marriage,  and 
offspring. 

Hence,  sharing  or  separating  pecuniary  in 
terests  is  most  effective  in  uniting  or  separating 
them  in  all  other  respects.  Ignoring  her  busi 
ness  counsels  and  aid  initiates  a  practical  di' 


THE  MODEL  HUSBAND. 


173 


rorce  in  all  other  respects ;  and  is  incompat 
ible  with  a  perfect  love. 

Doling  out  given  sums,  at  stated  times,  to 
a  wife  for  "pin  money,"  separates  those  pecu 
niary  interests  which  should  be  shared  in 
common.  Are  not  her  family  struggles  as 
heroic  and  perpetual  as  his  business  ?  Should 
not  their  mutual  earnings  be  regarded  and 
shared  in  common?  No  true  wife  will  desire 
this  dress  or  that  luxury,  unless  she  knows 
her  husband  likes  it;  or  else  leaves  it  wholly 
to  her  judgment  Both  should  plan,  work, 
and  be  interested  together  in  whatever  in 
terests  either.  If  woman  lacks  man's  plan 
ning  power  to  forecast  results,  she  has  the 
more  tact  and  intuition,  and  a  nicer  sense  of 
right ;  that  most  important  means  of  ultimate 
business  success. 

Each  the  Other's  Halt. 

Farmers  and  their  wives  probably  come 
nearest  to  nature's  conjugal  co-operation  as 
to  pecuniary  interests,  and  furnish  the  best 
samples  of  affectionate  wedlock — husbands 
in  ploughing,  sowing,  driving,  feeding ;  and 
Tives  in  cooking,  milking,  churning,  and 
saving;  both  making  common  cause  in 
everything.  All  should  follow  their  ex 
ample. 

Philadelphia  merchants  are  pre-eminently 
successful ;  obviously  partly  because  many  of 
their  stores  are  in  their  dwellings ;  so  that 
when  obliged  to  be  absent,  wife  or  daughter 
*akes  the  place  of  husband  or  father.  They 
also  employ  many  female  clerks. 

Man's  mind  must  unite  with  woman's  in 
order  to  take  correct  views  of  things.  He 
looks  at  them  only  from  masculine,  she  from 
feminine  stand-points;  so  that  neither  can 
take  a  complete  view  of  anything  except  in 
and  by  uniting  both  their  views ;  by  which 
each  completes  the  other's. 

"In  the  multitude  of  counsel  there  is 
safety."  All  need  advice  in  most  things; 


and  who  is  as  proper  to  give  it  as  a  wife  ot 
husband?  By  presupposition,  each  is  most 
deeply  interested  in  the  other's  welfare; 
which  is  everything  in  a  counsellor.  What 
an  indescribable  pleasure  to  both  to  talk  over 
plans  and  prospects,  and  consult  togethei  on 
anticipated  results!  The  mere  pleasure  of 
the  conference  doubly  repays  its  trouble, 
What  a  luxury  to  her  to  be  consulted !  It 
gratifies  her  kindness  that  she  is  serviceable, 
and  pride  that  she  is  esteemed  as  a  "help 
meet."  Her  being  required  to  help  carry 
out  plans,  the  very  office  of  a  wife,  gives  her 
a  right  to  have  some  say  as  to  what  she  shall 
help  accomplish. 

Napoleon  and  Josephine. 

Napoleon  Bonaparte  furnishes  the  best 
illustration  on  the  largest  scale  of  the  "aid 
and  comfort,"  and  want  of  them,  rendered 
by  a  true  wife.  Josephine  was  a  magnifi 
cent  woman;  accompanied  him  wherevei 
she  could ;  and  was  his  chief  privy  coun-> 
seller  in  everything  Colonel  I/ehmanouski, 
a  Pole,  who  entered  the  military  academy 
with  him,  fought  one  hundred  and  seven 
battles  under  him,  was  his  body  servant,  and 
knew  all  about  his  family  secrets,  in  a  lec 
ture  on  Josephine  one  of  a  course  on  Bona 
parte,  said : 

"  His  success  was  due  to  her  as  much  as 
to  himself.  He  was  often  rash  in  his  bold 
ness,  and  would  sometimes  devise  plans  sure 
to  cause  defeat.  The  remonstrances  of  all 
his  generals  and  staff  had  no  effect  on  him. 
But  he  never  finally  acted  on  any  measure 
without  her  approval.  Her  quick  instincts 
saw  and  pointed  out  any  defects,  which  he 
perceived  and  obviated  ;  and  when  his  army 
knew  that  she  had  approved  any  measure, 
they  were  sure  of  success.  His  divorce 
caused  his  downfall.  His  new  wife's  jeal 
ousy  prevented  his  visiting  Josephine  often ; 
so  that,  not  under  her  influence,  he  planned 


174 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


his  expedition  to  Russia  without  her  full 
function.  She  advised  his  wintering  in 
Poland,  and  getting  fully  prepared  to  strike 
a  terrible  blow  in  the  spring.  When  on  his 
lone  isle  he  regretted  his  divorce  as  the  one 
fatal  error  of  his  life,  saying,  *  If  I  had  only 
clung  to  Josephine,  and  taken  her  advice,  I 
should  have  governed  Europe.'"  Thus,  a 
strong  man  can  be  made  stronger  by  woman. 


ENGINEER  MELVILLE. 

Sanguine  temperament ;  mind  and  body  in  har 
mony  ;  ready  for  bold  action  and  decision ;  engineer 
of  Greely  Relief  Expedition. 

A  woman's  co-operation  is  as  indispen 
sable  to  a  man's  success  as  blood  to  life. 
Soon  after  the  Canadian  rebellion  all  Canada 
was  convulsed  with  a  proposition  to  unite 
church  and  state,  as  in  the  mother  country. 
Though  this  was  a  most  unpopular  measure, 
especially  with  the  masses,  yet  it  was  almost 
carried  by  a  series  of  most  powerful  articles 
in  its  favor  in  the  Pilot.  Their  author  was 
a  man  of  genius,  but  full  of  those  rough 
corners  and  glaring  imperfections  calculated 
to  injure  his  cause.  Yet  his  wife,  an  emi 
nently  gifted  and  literary  woman,  whose 
whole  heart  was  in  the  measure,  by  taking 
Uis  undried  manuscripts  between  his  pen 


and  the  press,  rewrote  this  passage,  erased 
that,  and  added  the  other;  thus  pruning 
them  of  their  objectionable  points,  and 
super-adding  her  polish  and  persuasiveness 
to  his  virility,  till  together  they  almost  car 
ried  their  point,  and  awakened  the  admira 
tion  even  of  their  opponents,  that  a  cause 
so  poor  could  be  advocated  so  ably. 

But  many  a  husband  says,  "  My  wife's  long 
tongue  would  disclose  my  business  secrets,  if 
she  knew  all  about  my  business." 

Not  if  she  is  personally  interested.  She 
will  then  both  keep  them,  and  put  others  on 
the  wrong  track  besides.  Let  a  knowing 
woman  alone  for  keeping  dark,  and  hiding 
your  "fatal  secrets"  in  utter  impenetrability. 
And  when  you  have  anything  to  do  requiring 
the  utmost  of  art,  policy,  management,  even 
downright  intrigue,  you  require  an  interested 
woman's  head  and  hand  in  its  device  and 
execution.  Many  men  are  not  fit  to  manage 
anything  intricate  or  complicated  without 
feminine  co-operation.  At  least,  any  man 
will  prosper  all  the  better  for  calling  in  the 
aid  of  "his  wife  in  his  business  operations. 

The  Guardian  Angel. 

No  man  knows  till  he  loses  it  how  much 
a  genuine  helpmeet  woman  does  help.  For 
want  of  it,  many  stumble  and  fall  soon  after 
her  death,  or  desertion.  All  ye  who  desire 
success  in  your  respective  pursuits,  consider 
this  natural  law,  and  avail  yourselves  of  its 
instrumentality  of  success.  As  your  win 
ning  card  of  prosperity,  it  has  no  equal  ; 
because,  when  a  woman  loves  a  man,  her 
spiritual  intuitions  are  all  quickened  and 
called  into  action  in  his  behalf;  so  that  she 
becomes,  as  it  were,  his  guardian  angel 
against  defeat,  and  a  guide  to  success — his 
"cloud  by  day,  and  pillar  of  fire  by  night" 

Interest  her  in  your  business.  She  sup 
poses  you  are  making  piles  of  money,  and 
can  spare  fifties  and  hundreds  without  feeling 


THE  MODEL  HUSBAND. 


their  loss ,  whereas,  if  you  had  consulted  her 
as  to  this  speculation  and  that,  knowing  your 
straits,  she  would  cheerfully  put  up  with  the 
old,  till  long  after  you  were  able  to  get  new. 

Keeping  Everything  Dark. 

When  a  husband  dies  or  is  absent,  his  wife 
requires  to  know  all  about  his  pecuniary 
affairs,  in  order  to  give  right  directions  as  to 
this  and  that,  else  things  must  take  their 
course ;  and  in  case  he  dies,  to  prevent  ras 
cally  harpies  from  preying  on  the  estate,  by 
showing  them  that  she  understands  what  he 
does  and  does  not  own  and  owe.  She  must 
then  take  the  helm,  and  bring  debtors,  pre 
tended  creditors,  administrators,  and  all,  to 
time;  which  ignorance  of  his  business  affairs 
prevents  her  doing.  Yet  many  husbands 
operate  in  and  of  themselves  from  year  to 
year,  without  telling  their  wives  one  word 
about  their  affairs.  "  I  know  no  more  about 
my  husband's  business  than  the  dead,"  is  a 
common  saying.  Is  this  conjugal?  Has 
not  a  wife  a  right  to  know? 

Two  similar  brothers  married  twin  sisttia, 
but  pursued  these  two  opposite  courses :  A, 
telling  his  wife  all  he  learned;  at  dinner 
what  he  had  seen  and  done  since  breakfast, 
and  at  night,  during  the  day;  his  heart 
yearning,  after  he  had  learned  anything  of 
interest  till  he  had  imparted  it  to  her ;  while 
B  kept  learning  without  communicating  any 
of  his  self-improvement  or  business  affairs  to 
his  wife,  or  talking  to  her  except  about  some 
common-place  home  affairs.  A,  by  thus  keep 
ing  his  wife  growing  along  up  with  him  in 
knowledge,  spirit,  and  culture,  kept  their 
mutual  affections  warm  and  fresh ;  while  B's 
wife  declined  till  they  lost  all  affinity,  because 
she  had  remained  so  far  below  him  as  to 
compel  him  to  look  down  on  her  with  pity, 
and  regret  that  he  was  tied  for  life  to  one  so 
obviouslv  his  inferior. 


Said  a  widow :  "  When  I  married  him  I 
loved  my  husband  some ;  yet  as  I  lived  on 
with  him,  my  affections  reincreased,  till  my 
whole  soul  was  wrapped  up  in  complete  de« 
votion  to  him ;  when  he  one  day  received  a 
letter  in  the  parlor,  which  I  wanted  to  see-^ 
Eve's  curiosity — which  he  refused,  till,  I  per; 
sisting,  he  finally  bluffed  me  off;  and  that 
bluff  stuck  a  cold  dagger  through  my  very 
soul.  I  found  my  heartstrings  breaking  one 
after  another,  till  the  last  tie  that  bound  me 
to  him  was  severed.  Then  hatred  super 
vened;  I  was  glad  when  he  went  to  his 
store,  sorry  when  he  returned;  glad  when 
he  went  to  New  York  for  goods,  sorry  when, 
he  came  back ;  glad  when  he  died!" 

"  He  began  it"  by  that  incipient  divorce 
of  the  letter,  which  effected  a  like  divorce 
throughout  all  their  other  relations,  and 
finally  broke  the  back  of  its  instigator. 
Divorce  in  this  matter  of  the  letter  initiated 
a  complete  divorce  throughout. 

Husbands  who  are  Occasional  Callers. 

"  My  husband  is  off  most  of  the  time,  and 
I'm  glad  of  it;  for  I  don't  know  what  I 
should  do  if  he  wasn't."  So  say  many  wives 
of  their  heathenish  husbands. 

"  My  wife  is  fretful,  and  keeps  complain 
ing  to  me  about  this,  that,  and  the  other 
thing,  servants,  and  every  little  household 
vexation."  So  say  many  weary  husbands  of 
their  peevish  wives. 

"  My  husband  comes  home  surly  and  gram, 
combative  and " 

"  True,  wife,  yet  this  is  incidental  to  my 
business.  I  know  it  is  wrong,  but  I  get 
heated  in  the  struggle,  and  come  home 
thoroughly  provoked.  Never  mind  it  It 
is  my  business,  not  me." 

"  I  could  excuse  that ;  but  on  entering  he 
throws  his  head  back,  feet  up,  and  taking 
the  last  paper,  reads  on,  says  nothing  about 


176 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


what  lie  reads,  sometimes  finds  something  to 
laugh  at — which  I  do  so  wish  he  would  tell 
me,  along  with  his  business,  or  any  outside 
news — till,  dinner  announced,  he  eats  in 
silence ;  when,  putting  on  his  hat  he  says, 
'Wife,  I  shall  not  return  to  tea  to-night.  Do 


TYPE  OF  A  BRUTAL  HUSBAND 

Ix>w  forehead ;  defective  intellectual  and  moral  facul 
ties  ;  coarse  nature ;  pride  and  self-conceit  predominant. 

not  wait  for  me,  or  even  sit  up ;  for  I  may 
remain  out  quite  late.'  He  says: 

"'Wife,  here  are  garden  and  gardener. 
Manage  both,  and  see  that  garden  truck 
enough  is  raised  for  winter ;'  whereas,  if  he 
would  only  once  a  week  show  some  interest 
in  it,  say,  '  That  is  well,  but  this  might  be 
bettered  thus,'  I  should  be  so  delighted.  He 
says: 

"  'There  are  horses  and  groom.  Ride  out 
when  and  where  you  please;  they  will  be 
the  better  for  daily  exercise ;'  whereas,  if  he 
would  only  ride  out  with  me  once  a  week, 
the  memory  of  that  ride  would  so  sanctify 
the  others  as  to  render  them  also  delightful ; 
yet,  as  it  is,  I  take  no  pleasure  in  them.  He 
says: 


" '  I  furnish  money  enough  for  the  educu- 
tion  of  our  children,  but  you  must  see  to  all 
its  details,  and  say  what  studies  and  teachers 
they  shall  have,  for  I  cannot  bother  with 
them ;'  whereas,  if  he  would  only  go  once 
per  quarter  to  their  '  examinations,'  see  their 
progress,  and  advise  with  me,  I  and  they 
would  be  so  delighted ;  but  he  is  always  too 
tired,  or  too  busy  !  He  says : 

" '  Get  and  discharge  just  such  and  as  many 
servants  as  you  please,  but  do  not  trouble  me 
with  your  petty  household  cares ;'  whereas, 
if  he  would  only  hear  my  sad  tale,  and  sym 
pathize  with  me — but,  no ;  I  must  worry  on 
all  alone.  I  am  perfectly  lonely,  and  almost 
crazy  for  want  of  some  one  to  share  my  life 
with  me." 

That  poor  wife  tells  the  heart-story  of 
wives  in  untold  numbers,  if  not  in  these 
particulars,  at  least  in  the  general  features  of 
their  case.  They  are  perishing  by  slow  but 
agonizing  inches  for  want  of  some  one,  if 
only  a  colored  servant,  with  whom  to  talk 
over  their  pent-up  heart-troubles. 

"  The  Green-Eyed  Monster." 

We  now  come  to  a  matter  of  the  greatest 
possible  importance ;  namely,  that  great 
troubler  of  the  married  state,  that  great  bane 
of  families,  jealousy.  This  is  always  an 
unfortunate  thing,  and  sometimes  fatal. 
Yet,  if  there  be  a  great  propensity  towards 
it,  it  is  very  difficult  to  be  prevented.  One 
thing,  however,  every  husband  can  do  in  the 
way  of  prevention ;  and  that  is,  to  give  no 
ground  for  it.  And  here,  it  is  not  sufficient 
that  he  strictly  adhere  to  his  marriage  vow  5 
he  ought  further  to  abstain  from  every  act, 
however  free  from  guilt,  calculated  to  awaken 
the  slightest  degree  of  suspicion  in  a  mind, 
the  peace  of  which  he  is  bound  by  every  tie 
of  justice  and  humanity  not  to  disturb,  or , 
if  he  can  avoid  it,  to  suffer  it  to  be  disturbed 
by  others. 


THE  MODEL  HUSBAND. 


177 


A  woman  that  is  very  fond  of  her  husband, 
and  this  is  the  case  with  nine-tenths  of  Am 
erican  women,  does  not  like  to  share  with 
another  any,  even  the  smallest  portion,  not 
only  of  his  affection,  but  of  his  attentions 
and  praise;  and,  as  bestowing  them  on 
another,  and  receiving  payment  in  kind, 
can  serve  no  purpose  other  than  of  gratify 
ing  one's  vanity,  they  ought  to  be  abstained 
from,  and  especially  if  the  gratification  be 
purchased  with  even  the  chance  of  exciting 
uneasiness  in  her,  whom  it  is  your  sacred  duty 
to  make  as  happy  as  you  can. 

Domestic  Charity. 

If  the  mind  of  a  wife  be  disturbed  on  this 
score,  every  possible  means  ought  to  be  used 
to  restore  it  to  peace  ;  and  though  her  suspi 
cions  be  perfectly  groundless;  though  they 
be  wild  as  the  dreams  of  madmen ;  though 
they  may  present  a  mixture  of  the  furious 
and  the  ridiculous,  still  they  are  to  be  treated 
with  the  greatest  lenity  and  tenderness ;  and 
if,  after  all,  you  fail,  the  frailty  is  to  be 
lamented  as  a  misfortune,  and  punished  as  a 
fault,  seeing  that  it  must  have  its  foundation 
in  a  feeling  towards  you,  which  it  would  be 
the  basest  of  ingratitude,  and  the  most  feroci 
ous  of  cruelty,  to  repay  by  harshness  of  any 
description. 

The  truth  is,  that  the  greatest  security  of 
all  against  jealousy  in  a  wife  is  to  show,  to 
prove  by  your  acts,  by  your  words  also,  but 
more  especially  by  your  acts,  that  you  prefer 
her  to  all  the  world ;  and,  as  I  said  before,  I 
know  of  no  act  that  is,  in  this  respect,  equal 
to  spending  in  her  company  every  moment 
of  your  leisure  time.  Everybody  knows,  and 
young  wives  better  than  anybody  else,  that 
people  who  can  choose  will  be  where  they 
like  best  to  be,  and  that  they  will  be  along 
with  those  whose  company  they  best  like. 
If  fond  of  home  they  will  be  there. 
12 


If  acts  of  kindness  in  you  are  necessaiy  in 
all  cases,  they  are  especially  so  in  cases  of  her 
illness,  from  whatever  cause  arising.  I  will 
not  suppose  myself  to  be  addressing  any  hus 
band  capable  of  being  unconcerned  while  his 
wife's  life  is  in  the  most  distant  dangei  from 


LIEUTENANT  JAMES  B.  LOCKWOOD. 

Compact,  symmetrical  organization;  very  deter 
mined  ;  fine  example  of  heroic  will,  resolute  action 
and  successful  enterprise;  reached  the  highest  point 
ever  gained  in  Arctic  exploration. 

illness,  but,  far  short  of  this  degree  of  brutal 
ity,  a  great  deal  of  fault  may  be  committed. 
When  men  are  ill,  they  feel  every  neglect 
with  double  anguish,  and  what  then  must 
be,  in  such  cases,  the  feelings  of  women, 
whose  ordinary  feelings  are  so  much  more 
acute  than  those  of  men ;  what  must  be  theij 
feelings  in  case  of  neglect  in  illness,  and  espe 
cially  if  the  neglect  come  from  the  husband  I 
Such  neglect  is  unbearable. 

Your  own  heart  will  tell  you  what  those 
feelings  must  be,  and  will  spare  me  the  vain 
attempt  to  describe  them ;  and,  if  it  do  thus 
instruct  you,  you  will  want  no  arguments  to 


178 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


jiduce  you,  at  such  a  season,  to  prove  tlie 
sincerity  of  your  affection  by  every  kind 
word  and  kind  act  that  your  mind  can 
suggest  This  is  the  time  to  try  you ;  and, 
be  you  assured,  that  the  impression  left  on 
her  mind  now  will  be  the  true  and  lasting 
impression ;  and,  if  it  be  good,  will  be  a 
better  preservative  against  her  being  jealous, 
than  ten  thousand  of  your  professions  ten 
thousand  times  repeated.  In  such  a  case, 
you  ought  to  spare  no  expense  that  you  can 
possibly  afford ;  you  ought  to  neglect  nothing 
that  your  means  will  enable  you  to  do ;  for, 
what  is  the  use  of  money  if  it  be  not  to  be 
expended  in  this  case? 

Butj  more  than  all  the  rest,  is  your  own 
personal  attention.  This  is  the  valuable 
thing ;  this  is  the  great  balm  to  the  sufferer, 
and  it  is  efficacious  in  proportion  as  it  is 
proved  to  be  sincere.  Leave  nothing  to 
other  hands  that  you  can  do  yourself;  the 
mind  has  a  great  deal  to  do  in  all  the 
ailments  of  the  body;  and,  bear  in  mind, 
that,  whatever  be  the  event,  you  have  a  more 
than  ample  reward.  We  cannot  press  this 
point  too  strongly  upon  you ;  the  bed  of 
sickness  presents  no  charms,  no  allurements, 
and  women  know  this  well ;  they  watch,  in 
such  a  case,  your  every  word  and  every  look ; 
and  now  it  is  that  their  confidence  is  secured, 
or  their  suspicions  excited,  for  life. 

Push  and  Perseverance. 

Keep  the  conviction  firmly  fixed  on  your 
mind,  that  you  have  no  right  to  live  in  this 
world ;  that,  being  of  hale  body  and  sound 
mind,  you  have  no  right  to  any  earthly 
existence,  without  doing  work  of  some  sort 
or  other,  unless  you  have  ample  fortune 
whereon  to  live  clear  of  debt ;  and,  that  even 
in  that  case,  you  have  no  right  to  breed 


children  to  be  kept  by  others,  or  to  be  ex- 
posed  to  the  chance  of  being  so  kept.  To 
wish  to  live  on  the  labors  of  others  is,  besides 
the  folly  of  it,  to  contemplate  a  fraud  at  the 
least,  and,  under  certain  circumstances,  to 
meditate  oppression  and  robbery. 

He  who  lives  upon  anything  except  hifi 
own  labor,  is  incessantly  surrounded  by 
rivals ;  his  grand  resource  is  that  servility  in 
which  he  is  always  liable  to  be  surpassed. 
He  is  in  daily  danger  of  being  outbidden; 
his  very  bread  depends  upon  caprice ;  and 
he  lives  in  a  state  of  uncertainty  and  never- 
ceasing  fear.  His  is  not,  indeed,  the  dog's 
life,  "hunger  and  idleness;"  but  it  is  worse;, 
for  it  is  "idleness  with  slavery,"  the  latter 
being  the  just  price  of  the  former. 

And  remember  this :  you  are  to  labor  for 
an  object,  the  happiness  of  your  wife,  the 
welfare  of  your  household.  What  worthier 
object  can  there  be  ? 

Count  the  cost,  and  strike  the  balance  a? 
to  the  difference  between  a  lovely  and  hateful 
wife,  and  then  "cipher  out"  the  value  of  a 
good  one.  Solomon  placed  it  "  far  above 
rubies,"  and  rubies  are  far  above  your  store 
trash.  Yet  even  he  did  not  duly  estimate 
her  full  value.  Next,  by  addition  and  sub 
traction,  aided  by  the  Rule  of  Three,  "  deci 
pher"  how  much  that  man  gains  who,  by 
delving  early  and  late  at  his  eternal  "busi 
ness,"  spoils  a  good  wife,  in  and  by  letting 
her  affections  run  down  or  die  out.  Next,  by 
addition  and  multiplication,  find  out  how 
much  is  gained  by  cherishing  them,  and 
thereby  perpetually  reimproving  both  her 
and  yourself.  Dollars  cannot  measure  such 
problems.  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if,  in 
gaining  the  whole  world,  he  spoils  or  loses 
a  good  wife?  And  yet  most  of  our  shrewd 
est  business  men  daily  pocket  this  very  loss! 


(T 


MISS  .MELANIE)  MACKLIN, 
Colored  Beauty  of  St  Louis. 


MRS.  W.  H.  STEWARD,  Louisville,  Ky., 
Handsome  Afro-American  Woman. 


ABOVE  GOLD,  DIAMOND-SET  MEDALS  WERE  OFFERED  BY  THE  APPEAL  TO  THE 

BEAUTIFUL  MAIDEN  AND  MARRIED  LADY  OF  THE  RACE,  AND  WERP- 

WON  BY  Miss  MACKLIN  AND  MRS.  STEWARD. 


GROUP   OF  INTELLIGENT,   NEATLY  DRESSED   AFRO-AMERICAN   CHILDREN 

"  Suffer  little  children  and  forbid  them  not  to  come  unto  me,  for  of  such 

is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." — Matthew  19-14. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


The  Care  and   Management  of  Children  ;    or  Health  and 
Happiness  for  the  Little  Ones, 


B  following  plain,  golden  rules  for 
the  care  and  management  of  children 
from    the    pen    of   the    world- 


are 


renowned  physician,  Dr.  Pye  Henry  Cha- 
vasse,  who  is  known  in  both  Europe  and 
America  as  authority  upon  all  matters  relat 
ing  to  health  and  disease.  He  has  the  rare 
faculty  of  uniting  good  common  sense  with 
the  most  profound  learning  and  skill.  Dr. 
Chavasse  says : — 

The  nursery  ought  to  be  the  largest  and 
the  most  airy  room  in  the  house.  In  the 
town,  if  it  be  in  the  topmost  story  (provided 
the  apartment  be  large  and  airy)  so  much  the 
better,  as  the  air  will  then  be  purer.  The 
architect,  in  the  building  of  a  house,  ought 
to  be  particularly  directed  to  pay  attention  to 
the  space,  the  loftiness,  the  ventilation,  the 
light,  the  warming,  and  the  conveniences  of 
a  nursery.  A  bath-room  attached  to  it  will 
be  of  great  Importance  and  benefit  to  the 
health  of  a  child. 

The  ventilation  of  a  nursery  is  of  para 
mount  importance.  There  ought  to  be  a 
constant  supply  of  fresh  pure  air  in  the 
apartment.  But  how  few  nurseries  have 
fresh,  pure  air  !  Many  nurseries  are  nearly 
hermetically  sealed — the  windows  are  seldom, 
if  ever,  opened;  the  doors  are  religiously 
closed ;  and,  in  summer  time,  the  chimneys 
are  carefully  stuffed  up,  so  that  a  breath  of 
air  is  not  allowed  to  enter!  The  conse 
quences  are,  the  poor,  unfortunate  children 
are  "poisoned  by  their  own  breaths,"  and  are 
made  so  delicate  that  they  are  constantly 
catching  cold  ;  indeed,  it  might  be  said  that 
are  laboring  under  chronic  catarrhs,  all 


arising  from  Nature's  laws  being  set  at  dfc 
fiance. 

The  windows  ought  to  be  large,  and  should 
be  made  to  freely  open  both  at  top  and  bot 
tom.  Whenever  the  child  is  out  of  the 
nursery,  the  windows  ought  to  be  thrown 
wide  open ;  indeed,  when  he  is  in  it,  if  the 
weather  be  fine,  the  upper  sash  should  be  a 
little  lowered.  A  child  should  be  encouraged 
to  change  the  room  frequently,  in  order  that 
it  may  be  freely  ventilated  ;  for  good  air  is  as 
necessary  to  his  health  as  wholesome  food^ 
and  air  cannot  be  good  if  it  be  not  frequently 
changed.  If  you  wish  to  have  a  strong  and 
healthy  child,  ponder  over  and  follow  this 
advice. 

I  have  to  enter  my  protest  against  the  use 
of  a  stove  in  a  nursery.  I  consider  a  gas 
stove  without  a  chimney  to  be  an  abomina 
tion,  most  destructive  to  human  life.  There 
is  nothing  like  the  old-fashioned  open  fire 
place  with  a  good-sized  chimney,  so  that  it 
may  not  only  carry  off  the  smoke,  but  also 
the  impure  air  of  the  room. 

Be  strict  in  not  allowing  your  child  either 
to  touch  or  to  play  with  fire  ;  frightful  acci 
dents  have  occurred  from  mothers  and  nurses 
being  on  these  points  lax.  The  nursery 
ought  to  have  a  large  fire-guard,  to  go  all 
round  the  hearth,  and  which  should  be  suffi 
ciently  high  to  prevent  a  child  from  climb 
ing  over.  Not  only  must  the  nursery  have 
a  guard,  but  every  room  where  he  is  allowed 
to  go  should  be  furnished  with  one  on  the 
bars. 

Moreover,  it  will  be  advisable  to  have  9 
guard  in  every  room  where  a  fire  is  burning, 

179 


180 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


to  prevent  ladies  from  being  burned.  For 
tunately  for  them,  preposterous  crinolines 
are  out  of  fashion ;  lady-burning  ought  not 
to  be  considered  one  of  the  institutions  of 
our  land.  There  will  be  too  many  accidents 
even  with  the  utmost  care  and  caution. 

A  nursery  is  usually  kept  too  hot ;  the 
temperature  in  the  winter  time  ought  not 
to  exceed  65  degrees  Fahrenheit.  A  good 
thermometer  should  be  considered  an  indis 
pensable  requisite  to  a  nursery.  A  child  in 
a  hot,  close  nursery  is  bathed  in  perspiration  ; 
if  he  leave  the  room  to  go  to  one  of  lower 
temperature,  the  pores  of  his  skin  are  sud 
denly  closed,  and  either  a  severe  cold,  or  an 
inflammation  of  the  lungs,  or  an  attack  of 
bronchitis,  is  likely  to  ensue.  Moreover,  the 
child  is  both  weakened  and  enervated  by  the 
heat,  and  thus  readily  falls  a  prey  to  disease. 

A  child  ought  never  to  be  permitted  to  sit 
with  his  back  to  the  fire ;  if  he  be  allowed, 
it  weakens  the  spine,  and  thus  his  whole 
frame  ;  it  causes  a  rush  of  blood  to  the  head 
and  face,  and  predisposes  him  to  catch  cold. 

Everything  Must  be  Pure. 

Let  a  nurse  make  a  point  of  opening  the 
nursery  window  every  time  that  she  and  her 
little  charge  leave  the  nursery,  if  her  absence 
be  only  for  half  an  hour.  The  mother  her 
self  ought  to  see  that  this  advice  is  followed, 
pure  air  is  so  essential  to  the  well-being  of  a 
child.  Pure  air  and  pure  water,  and  let  me 
add,  pure  milk,  are  for  a  child  the  grand  and 
principal  requisites  of  health. 

Look  well  to  the  drainage  of  your  house 
and  neighborhood.  A  child  is  very  suscept 
ible  to  the  influence  of  bad  drainage.  Bad 
drains  are  fruitful  sources  of  scarlet  fever,  of 
diphtheria,  of  diarrhoea,  etc.  It  is  sad  to  be 
reminded  that,  whatever  evils  threaten  the 
health  of  population,  whether  from  pollu 
tions  of  water  or  of  air — whether  from  bad 


drainage  or  overcrowding,  they  fall  heavies^ 
upon  the  most  innocent  victims — upon  chil 
dren  of  tender  years.  Their  delicate  frame* 
are  infinitely  more  sensitive  than  the  hard 
ened  constitutions  of  adults,  and  the  breath 
of  poison,  or  the  chill  of  hardships,  easily 
blights  their  tender  life. 

A  nursery  floor  ought  not  to  be  washed 
oftener^than  once  a  week;  and  then  the 
child  or  children  should,  until  it  be  dry,  be 
sent  into  another  room. 

Poisonous  Wall-Paper. 

The  constant  wetting  of  a  nursery  is  a  fre« 
quent  source  of  illness  among  children.  The 
floor  ought,  of  course,  to  be  kept  clean  ;  but 
this  may  be  done  by  the  servant  thoroughly 
sweeping  the  room  out  every  morning  before 
her  little  charge  makes  his  appearance. 

Do  not  have  your  nursery  wall  covered 
with  green  paper-hangings.  Green  paper- 
hangings  contain  large  quantities  of  arsenic 
— arseniteofcopper(Scheele'sgreen) — which, 
I  need  scarcely  say,  is  a  virulent  poison,  and 
which  flies  about  the  room  in  the  form  of 
powder.  There  is  frequently  enough  poison 
on  the  walls  of  a  room  to  destroy  a  whole 
neighborhood. 

There  is  another  great  objection  to  having 
your  nurseiy  walls  covered  with  green  paper- 
hangings  ;  if  any  of  the  paper  should  become 
loose  from  the  walls,  a  little  child  is  very  apt 
to  play  with  it,  and  to  put  it,  as  he  does 
everything  else,  to  his  mouth.  This  is  not 
an  imaginary  state  of  things,  as  four  children 
in  one  family  have  been  known  to  lose  theii 
lives  from  sucking  green  paper-hangings. 

Green  dresses,  as  they  are  colored  with  a 
preparation  of  arsenic,  are  equally  as  danger 
ous  as  green  paper-hangings ;  a  child  ought, 
therefore,  never  to  wear  a  green  dress.  "  It 
may  be  interesting  to  some  of  our  readers," 
says  Land  and  Water ,  "to  know  that  the 


THE  ALL-IMPORTANT  NURSERY. 


181 


new  gteen,  so  fashionable  for  ladies'  dresses,  is 
just  as  dangerous  in  its  nature  as  the  green 
wall-paper,  about  which  so  much  was  written 
some  time  since.  It  is  prepared  with  a  large 
quantity  of  arsenic  ;  and  we  have  been  assured 
by  several  leading  dressmakers,  that  the  work 
women  employed  in  making  up  dresses  of  this 
color  are  seriously  affected  with  all  the  symp 
toms  of  arsenical  poisoning.  Let  our  lady 
friends  take  care." 

Dangerous  Toys. 

Children's  toys  are  frequently  painted  of  a 
green  color  with  arsenite  of  copper,  and  are 
consequently,  highly  dangerous  for  them  to 
play  with.  The  best  toy  for  a  child  is  a  box 
of  unpainted  wooden  bricks,  which  is  a  con 
stant  source  of  amusement  to  him. 

If  you  have  your  nursery  walls  hung  with, 
paintings  and  engravings,  let  them  be  of  good 
quality.  The  horrid  daubs  and  bad  engrav 
ings  that  usually  disfigure  nursery  walls,  are 
enough  to  ruin  the  taste  of  a  child,  and  to 
make  him  take  a  disgust  to  drawing,  which 
would  be  a  misfortune.  A  fine  engraving 
and  a  good  painting  expand  and  elevate  his 
mind.  We  all  know  that  first  impressions 
are  the  most  vivid  and  the  most  lasting.  A 
taste  in  early  life  for  everything  refined  and 
beautiful  purifies  his  mind,  cultivates  his  in 
tellect,  keeps  him  from  low  company,  and 
makes  him  grow  up  a  gentleman  ! 

Lucifer  matches,  in  case  of  sudden  illness, 
should,  both  in  the  nursery  and  in  the  bed 
room,  be  always  in  readiness ;  but  they  must 
be  carefully  placed  out  of  the  reach  of  chil- 
\  iren,  as  lucifer  matches  are  a  deadly  poison. 
Many  inquests  have  been  held  on  children 
who  have,  from  having  sucked  them,  been 
poisoned  by  them. 

Have  you  any  observation  to  make  on  the 
light  of  a  nursery  ? 

Let  the  window,  or  what  is  better,  the 
windows,  of  a  nursery  be  very  large,  so  as 


to  thoroughly  light  up  every  nook  an<3 
corner  of  the  room,  as  there  is  nothing  more 
conducive  to  the  health  of  a  child  than  an 
abundance  of  light  in  the  dwelling.  A  room 
cannot,  then,  be  too  light.  The  windows  of 
a  nursery  are  generally  too  small.  A  child 
requires  as  much  light  as  a  plant.  Gardeners 
are  well  aware  of  the  great  importance  of 
light  in  the  construction  of  their  greets 
houses,  and  yet  a  child,  who  requires  it  3d 
much,  and  is  of  much  greater  importance, 
is  cooped  up  in  dark  rooms ! 

Let  in  Light  and  Sunshine. 

The  windows  of  a  nursery  ought  not  only 
to  be  frequently  opened  to  let  in  fresh  air, 
but  should  be  frequently  cleaned,  to  let  in 
plenty  of  light  and  of  sunshine,  as  nothing 
is  so  cheering  and  beneficial  to  a  child  as  an 
abundance  of  light  and  sunshine ! 

With  regard  to  the  best  artificial  light  for 
a  nursery. — The  air  of  a  nursery  cannot 
be  too  pure ;  I  therefore  do  not  advise  you 
to  have  gas  in  it,  as  gas  in  burning  gives  ofl 
quantities  of  carbonic  acid  and  sulphuretted 
hydrogen,  which  vitiate  the  air.  Tne  kero 
sene  lamp,  too,  makes  a  room  very  hot  and 
close.  There  is  no  better  light  for  a  nursery 
than  either  patent  candles  or  the  electric  light 

Let  a  child's  home  be  the  happiest  house 
to  him  in  the  world ;  and  to  be  happy  he 
must  be  merry,  and  all  around  him  should 
be  merry  and  cheerful;  and  he  ought  to 
have  an  abundance  of  playthings,  to  help 
on  the  merriment.  If  he  have  a  dismal 
nurse,  and  a  dismal  home,  he  may  as  well  be 
incarcerated  in  a  prison,  and  be  attended  by 
a  jailor.  It  is  sad  enough  to  see  dismal, 
doleful  men  and  women,  but  it  is  a  truly 
lamentable  and  unnatural  sight  to  see  a  dole 
ful  child !  The  young  ought  to  be  as  play 
ful  and  as  full  of  innocent  mischief  as  a 
kitten.  There  will  be  quite  time  enough  ili 
after  years  for  sorrow  and  sadness. 


182 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


Bright  colors,  plenty  of  light,  clean  win 
dows  (mind  this,  if  you  please),  an  abund 
ance  of  good  colored  prints,  and  toys  without 
number,  are  the  proper  furnishings  of  a  nur 
sery.  Nursery!  why  the  very  name  tells 
you  what  it  ought  to  be — -the  home  of  child 
hood — the  most  important  room  in  the 
house — a  room  that  will  greatly  tend  to 
stamp  the  character  of  your  child  for  the  re 
mainder  of  his  life. 

Have  you  any  hints  to  offer  conducive  to 
the  well-doing  of  my  child  ? 

You  cannot  be  too  particular  in  the  choice 
of  those  who  are  in  constant  attendance  upon 
him.  You  yourself,  the  mother,  of  course 
must  be  his  head-nurse — you  only  require 
some  one  to  take  the  drudgery  off  your 
hands !  You  ought  to  be  particularly  care 
ful  in  the  selection  of  his  nurse.  She  should 
be  steady,  lively,  truthful  and  good  tem 
pered;  and  must  be  free  from  any  natural 
Imperfection,  such  as  squinting,  stammering, 
etc.,  for  a  child  is  such  an  imitative  creat 
ure  that  he  is  likely  to  acquire  that  defect 
which  in  the  nurse  is  natural.  Children, 
like  babies,  are  quick  at  "  taking  notice." 
What  they  see  they  mark,  and  what  they 
jnark  they  are  very  prone  to  copy. 

The  Good  Nurse. 

She  ought  not  to  be  very  young,  or  &ne 
may  be  thoughtless,  careless  and  giggling. 
You  have  no  right  to  set  a  child  to  mind  a 
child ;  it  would  be  like  the  blind  leading  the 
blind.  No  I  a  child  is  too  precious  a  treas 
ure  to  be  entrusted  to  the  care  and  keeping 
oi  a  young  girl.  Many  a  child  has  been 
ruined  for  life  by  a  careless  young  nurse 
dropping  him  and  injuring  his  spine. 

A  nurse  ought  to  be  both  strong  and 
active,  in  order  that  her  little  charge  may 
have  plenty  of  good  nursing  ;  for  it  requires 
great  strength  in  the  arms  to  carry  a  heavy 
child  for  the  space  of  an  hour  or  two  at  a 


stretch,  in  the  open  air;  and  such  is  abso 
lutely  necessary,  and  is  the  only  way  to  make 
him  strong  and  to  cause  him  to  cut  his  teeth 
easily,  and  at  the  same  time  to  regulate  his 
bowels ;  a  nurse,  therefore,  must  be  strong 
and  active,  and  not  mind  hard  work,  for 
hard  work  it  is ;  but,  after  she  is  accustomed 
to  it,  pleasant  notwithstanding. 

Ghosts  and  Hobgoblins. 

Never  should  a  nurse  be  allowed  to  weai 
a  mask,  nor  to  dress  up  and  paint  herself  as 
a  ghost,  or  as  any  other  frightful  object  A 
child  is  naturally  timid  and  full  of  fears,  and 
wliat  would  not  make  the  slightest  impres 
sion  upon  a  grown-up  person  might  throw  a 
child  into  fits — 

"  The  sleeping,  and  the  dead, 
Are  but  as  pictures :  'tis  the  age  of  childhood 
That  fears  a  painted  devil." — Shakespeare. 

Never  should  she  be  permitted  to  tell  her 
little  charge  frightful  stories  of  ghosts  and 
hobgoblins ;  if  this  be  allowed,  the  child's 
disposition  will  become  timid  and  wavering, 
and  may  continue  so  for  the  remainder  of 
his  life. 

If  a  little  fellow  were  not  terrified  by  such 
stories,  the  darkness  would  not  frighten  him 
more  than  the  light.  Moreover,  the  mind 
thus  filled  with  fear,  acts  upon  the  body, 
and  injures  the  health.  A  child  must  never 
be  placed  in  a  dark  cellar,  nor  frightened  by 
tales  of  any  sort.  Instances  are  related  of 
fear  thus  induced  impairing  the  intellect  for 
life,  or  causing  dangerous  illness. 

Night-terrors.  — This  frightening  of  a 
child  by  a  silly  nurse  frequently  brings  on 
night-terrors.  He  wakes  up  suddenly,  SOCK 
after  going  to  sleep,  frightened  and  terrified , 
screaming  violently,  and  declaring  that  he 
has  seen  either  some  ghost,  or  thief,  or  some 
object  that  the  silly  nurse  had  been  previ 
ously  in  the  day  describing,  who  is  come  for 
him  to  take  him  away.  The  little  fellow  is 


THE  ALL-IMPORTANT  NURSERY. 


183 


the  very  picture  of  terror  and  alarm;  lie 
hides  his  face  in  his  mother's  bosom,  the 
perspiration  streams  down  him,  and  it  is 
some  time  before  he  can  be  pacified — when, 
at  length,  he  falls  into  a  troubled  feverish 
slumber,  to  awake  in  the  morning  unre- 
freshed.  Night  after  night  these  terrors 
harass  him,  until  his  health  materially  suf 
fers,  and  his  young  life  becomes  miserable, 
looking  forward  with  dread  to  the  approach 
of  darkness. 

Treatment  of  night-terrors. — If  they  have 
been  brought  on  by  the  folly  of  the  nurse, 
discharge  her  at  once,  and  be  careful  to 
select  a  more  discreet  one.  When  the  child 
retires  to  rest,  leave  a  candle  burning,  and 
let  it  burn  all  night ;  sit  with  him  until  he 
be  asleep ;  and  take  care,  in  case  he  should 
rouse  up  in  one  of  his  night-terrors,  that 
either  yourself  or  some  kind  person  be  near 
at  hand.  Do  not  scold  him  for  being  fright 
ened — he  cannot  help  it ;  but  soothe  him, 
calm  him,  fondle  him,  take  him  into  your 
arms,  and  let  him  feel  that  he  has  some  one 
to  rest  upon,  to  defend  and  to  protect  him. 
It  is  frequently  in  these  cases  necessary  before 
he  can  be  cured  to  let  him  have  change  of 
air  and  change  of  scene.  Let  him  live,  in 
the  day  time,  a  great  part  of  the  day  in  the 
open  air. 

Let  the  Child  Romp. 

I  have  seen  in  the  winter  time  a  lazy  nurse 
sit  before  the  fire  with  a  child  on  her  lap, 
rubbing  his  cold  feet  just  before  putting  him 
to  his  bed.  Now,  this  is  not  the  way  to  warm 
his  feet  The  right  method  is  to  let  him  romp 
and  run  either  about  the  room,  or  the  landing, 
or  the  hall — this  will  effectually  warm  them ; 
but,  of  course,  it  will  entail  a  little  extra 
trouble  on  the  nurse,  as  she  will  have  to  use 
a  little  exertion  to  induce  him  to  do  so,  and 
this  extra  trouble  a  lazy  nurse  will  not  relish. 
Warming  the  feet  before  the  fire  will  give 


the  little  fellow  chilblains,  and  will  make 
him  when  he  is  in  bed  more  chilly.  The 
only  way  for  him  to  have  a  good  romp 
before  he  goes  to  bed,  is  for  the  mother  to 
join  in  the  game.  She  may  rest  assured, 
that  if  she  does  so,  her  child  will  not  be  the 
only  one  to  benefit  by  it.  She  herself  will 
find  it  of  marvellous  benefit  to  her  own 
health ;  it  will  warm  her  own  feet,  it  will  be 
almost  sure  to  insure  her  a  good  night,  and 
will  make  her  feel  so  light  and  buoyant  as 
almost  to  fancy  that  she  is  a  girl  again! 
Well,  then,  let  every  child,  before  going  to 
bed,  hold  a  high  court  of  revelry,  let  him 
have  an  hour — the  children's  hour — devoted 
to  romp,  to  dance,  to  shout,  to  song,  to  riot, 
and  to  play,  and  let  him  be  the  master  of  th* 
revels — 

Between  the  dark  and  the  daylight, 
When  the  night  is  beginning  to  lower, 

Conies  a  pause  in  the  day's  occupation, 
Which  is  known  as  the  Children's  Hour. 

Longfellfw. 

Let  a  child  be  employed — take  an  interest 
in  his  employment,  let  him  fancy  that  he  is 
useful — and  he  is  useful,  he  is  laying  in  a 
stock  of  health.  He  is  much  more  usefully 
employed  than  many  other  grown-up  chil 
dren  are. 

A  child  should  be  happy;  he  must,  in 
every  way  be  made  happy ;  everything  ought 
to  be  done  to  conduce  to  his  happiness,  to 
give  him  joy,  gladness,  and  pleasure.  Hap  py 
he  should  be,  as  happy  as  the  day  is  long, 
Kindness  should  be  lavished  upon  himv 
Make  a  child  understand  that  you  love  him; 
prove  it  in  your  actions — these  are  better 
than  words ;  look  after  his  little  pleasures — 
join  in  his  little  sports ;  let  him  never  hear 
a  morose  word — it  would  rankle  in  his  breast, 
take  deep  root,  and  in  due  time  bring  forth 
bitter  fruit.  Love !  let  love  be  his  pole-star ; 
let  it  be  the  guide  and  the  rule  of  all  you  do 
and  all  you  say  unto  him.  Let  your  face,  as 


1 84 


COURTSHIP,   MARRIAGE   AND    DOMESTIC   LIFE. 


well  as  your  tongue,  speak  love.  Let  your 
hands  be  ever  ready  to  minister  to  his  pleas- 
tires  and  to  his  play. 

The  Power  of  Love. 

Says  Douglass  Jerrold :  "  Blessed  be  the 
hand  that  prepares  a  pleasure  for  a  child,  for 
there  is  no  saying  when  and  where  it  may 
•again  bloom  forth.  Does  not  almost  every 
body  remember  some  kind-hearted  man  who 
showed  him  a  kindness  in  the  dulcet  days  of 
childhood?  The  writer  of  this  recollects 
himself,  at  this  moment,  a  bare-footed  lad, 
standing  at  the  wooden  fence  of  a  poor  little 
garden  in  his  native  village,  while,  with  long 
ing  eyes,  he  gazed  on  the  flowers  which  were 
blooming  there  quietly  in  the  brightness  of 
the  Sabbath  morning.  The  possessor  came 
from  his  little  cottage.  He  was  a  wood 
cutter  by  trade,  and  spent  the  whole  week 
s-t  work  in  the  woods.  He  had  come  into 
the  garden  to  gather  flowers  to  stick  in  his 
coat  when  he  went  to  church.  He  saw  the 
boy,  and  breaking  off  the  most  beautiful  of 
his  carnations  (it  was  streaked  with  red  and 
white),  he  gave  it  to  him.  Neither  the  giver 
nor  the  receiver  spoke  a  word,  and  with 
bounding  steps  the  boy  ran  home.  And 
now  here,  at  a  vast  distance  from  that  home, 
after  so  many  events  of  so  many  years,  the 
feeling  of  gratitude  which  agitated  the  breast 
of  the  boy,  expressed  itself  on  paper.  The 
carnation  has  long  since  faded,  but  it  now 
bloometh  afresh." 

The  hearty,  ringing  laugh  of  a  child  is 
sweet  music  to  the  ear.  There  are  three 
most  joyous  sounds  in  nature — the  hum  of  a 
bee,  the  purr  of  a  cat,  and  the  laugh  of  a 
child.  They  tell  of  peace,  of  happiness, 
and  of  contentment,  and  make  one  for  a 
while  forget  that  there  is  so  much  misery  in 
the  world. 

A  man  who  dislikes  children  is  unnatural ; 
he  has  no  "  milk  of  human  kindness "  in 


him  ;  he  should  be  shunned.     Give  me,  for  a 
friend,  a  man — 

Who  takes  the  children  on  his  knee, 
And  winds  their  curls  about  his  hand. — Tennyson. 

If  a  child  be  peevish,  and  apparently  in 
good  health,  have  you  any  plan  to  propose  to 
allay  his  irritability  ? 

A  child's  troubles  are  soon  over — his  tear? 
are  soon  dried;  "nothing  dries  sooner  than 
a  tear" — if  not  prolonged  by  improper  man 
agement — 

The  tear  down  childhood's  cheek  that  flows 
Is  like  the  dew-drop  on  the  rose  ; 
When  next  the  summer  breeze  comes  by, 
And  waves  the  bush,  the  flower  is  dry. — Scott. 

Never  allow  a  child  to  be  teased  ;  it  spoils 
his  temper.  If  he  be  in  a  cross  humor  take 
no  notice  of  it,  but  divert  his  attention  to 
some  pleasing  object.  This  may  be  done 
without  spoiling  him.  Do  not  combat  bad 
temper  with  bad  temper,  noise  with  noise. 
Be  firm,  be  kind,  be  gentle,  be  loving,  speak 
quietly,  smile  tenderly,  and  embrace  him 
fondly,  but  insist  upon  implicit  obedience, 
and  you  will  have  with  God's  blessing  a 
happy  child — 

"When  a  little  child  is  weak 

From  fever  passing  by, 
Or  wearied  out  with  restlessness 
,        Don't  scold  him  if  he  cry. 

Tell  him  some  pretty  story— 

Don't  read  it  from  a  book  ; 
He  likes  to  watch  you  while  you  speak. 

And  take  in  every  look. 

"  Or  sometimes  singing  gently — 

A  little  song  may  please, 
With  quiet  and  amusing  words, 
And  tune  that  flows  with  ease. 

"Or  if  he  is  impatient, 

Perhaps  from  time  to  time 
A  simple  hymn  may  suit  the  best, 
In  short  and  easy  rhyme. 

"  The  measured  verses  flowing 

In  accents  clear  and  mild, 
May  blend  into  his  troubled  thought, 
And  soothe  the  little  child. 

"  But  let  the  words  be  simple, 

And  suited  to  his  mind, 
And  loving,  that  his  weary  heart 
A  resting-place  may  find." 


THE  ALL-IMPORTANT   NURSERY. 


185 


Speak  gently  to  a  child ;  speak  gently  to 
all;  but  more  especially  speak  gently  to  a 
child.  "  A  gentle  voice  is  an  excellent  thing 
in  a  woman,"  and  is  a  jewel  of  great  price, 
and  is  one  of  the  concomitants  of  a  perfect 
lady.  Let  the  hinges  of  your  disposition  be 
well  oiled.  Would  to  heaven  there  were 
more  of  them!  How  many  there  are  who 
never  turn  upon  the  hinges  of  this  world 
without  a  grinding  that  sets  the  teeth  of  a 
whole  household  on  edge !  And  somehow 
or  other  it  has  been  the  evil  fate  of  many  of 
the  best  spirits  to  be  so  circumstanced.  To 
these  especially  the  creakings  of  those  said 
rough  hinges  of  the  world  is  one  continued 
torture,  for  they  are  all  too  finely  strung; 
and  the  oft-recurring  grind  jars  the  whole 
sentient  frame,  mars  the  beautiful  lyre,  and 
makes  cruel  discord  in  a  soul  of  music.  How 
much  of  sadness  there  is  in  such  thoughts ! 
Seems  there  not  a  Past  in  some  lives,  to 
which  it  is  impossible  ever  to  become  rec 
onciled  ? 

Let  Your  Words  be  Pleasant. 

Pleasant  words  ought  always  to  be  spoken 
to  a  child;  there  must  be  neither  snarling, 
nor  snapping,  nor  snubbing,  nor  loud  con 
tention  towards  him.  If  there  be  it  will 
ruin  his  temper  and  disposition,  and  will 
make  him  hard  and  harsh,  morose  and  dis 
agreeable. 

Do  not  always  be  telling  your  child  how 
wicked  he  is ;  what  a  naughty  boy  he  is  ; 
that  God  will  never  love  him,  and  all  the 
rest  of  such  twaddle  and  blatant  inanity ! 
Do  not,  in  point  of  fact,  bully  him,  as  many 
poor  little  fellows  are  bullied !  It  will  ruin 
him  if  you  do ;  it  will  make  him  in  after 
years  either  a  coward  or  a  tyrant.  Such 
conversations,  like  constant  droppings  of 
water,  will  make  an  impression,  and  will 
cause  him  to  feel  that  it  is  of  no  use  to  try 
to  be  good — that  he  is  hopelessly  wicked ! 


Instead  of  such  language,  give  him  confi 
dence  in  himself;  rather  find  out  his  good 
points  and  dwell  upon  them ;  praise  him 
where  and  whenever  you  can;  and  make 
him  feel  that,  by  perseverance  and  by  God's 
blessing,  he  will  make  a  good  man,  Speak 
truthfully  to  your  child  ;  if  you  once  deceive 
him,  he  will  not  believe  you  for  the  future. 
Not  only  so,  but  if  you  are  truthful  yourself, 
you  are  likely  to  make  him  truthful — like 
begets  like.  There  is  something  beautiful 
in  truth  !  A  lying  child  is  an  abomination  ! 
Sir  Walter  Scott  says  "  that  he  taught  his 
son  to  ride,  to  shoot,  and  to  tell  the  truth." 
Archdeacon  Hare  asserts  "  that  Purity  is  the 
feminine,  Truth  the  masculine  of  Honor." 

As  soon  as  a  child  can  speak  he  should  be 
made  to  lisp  the  noble  words  of  truth,  and 
to  love  it,  and  to  abhor  a  lie !  What  a  beau 
tiful  character  he  will  then  make  !  Blessed  is 
the  child  that  can  say — 

"  Parental  cares  watched  o'er  my  growing  youth, 
And  early  stamped  it  with  the  love  of  truth." 

Have  no  favorites,  show  no  partiality ;  for 
the  young  are  very  jealous,  sharp-sighted, 
and  quick-witted,  and  take  a  dislike  to  the 
petted  one.  Do  not  rouse  the  old  Adam  in 
them.  Let  children  be  taught  to  be  "  kindly 
affectioned  one  to  another  with  brotherly 
love ;  "  let  them  be  encouraged  to  share  each 
other's  toys  and  play-things,  and  to  banish 
selfishness. 

Attend  to  a  child's  little  pleasures.  It  is 
the  little  pleasures  of  a  child  that  constitute 
his  happiness.  Great  pleasures  to  him  and 
to  us  all  (as  a  favorite  author  remarks)  comt 
but  seldom,  and  are  the  exceptions,  and  not 
the  rule. 

Let  a  child  be  nurtured  in  love.  "  It  will 
be  seen,"  says  the  author  of  John  Halifax, 
"that  I  hold  this  law  of  kindness  as  the 
Alpha  and  Omega  of  education.  I  once 
asked  one,  in  his  own  house,  a  father  in 


1 86 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


everything  but  the  name,  his  authority  un 
questioned,  his  least  word  held  in  reverence, 
his  smallest  wish  obeyed — 'How  did  you 
ever  manage  to  bring  up  these  children?' 
He  said,  '  By  love?  " 

Old  Children. 

Let  every  word  and  action  prove  that  you 
love  your  children.  Enter  into  all  their 
little  pursuits  and  pleasures.  Join  them  in 
their  play,  and  be  a  "  child  again ! "  If  they 
are  curious,  do  not  check  their  curiosity; 
but  rather  encourage  it;  for  they  have  a 
great  deal — as  we  all  have — to  learn,  and 
how  can  they  know  if  they  are  not  taught  ? 
You  may  depend  upon  it  the  knowledge 
they  obtain  from  observation  is  far  superior 
to  that  obtained  from  books.  Let  all  you 
teach  them,  let  all  you  do,  ai*u  let  all  you 
say  bear  the  stamp  of  love. 

A  placid,  well-regulated  temper  is  very 
conducive  to  health.  A  disordered  or  an 
overloaded  stomach,  is  a  frequent  cause 
of  peevishness.  Appropriate  treatment  in 
such  a  case  will,  of  course,  be  necessary. 

My  child  stammers:  can  you  tell  me  the 
cause,  and  can  you  suggest  a  remedy  f 

A  child  who  stammers  is  generally  "  ner 
vous,"  quick,  and  impulsive.  His  ideas  flow 
too  rapidly  for  speech.  He  is  "nervous;" 
hence,  when  he  is  alone,  and  with  those  he 
loves,  he  oftentimes  speaks  fluently  and  well ; 
he  stammers  more  both  when  he  is  tired  and 
when  he  is  out  of  health — when  the  nerves 
are  either  weak  or  exhausted.  He  is  emo 
tional  :  when  he  is  either  in  a  passion  or  in 
excitement,  either  of  joy  or  of  grief,  he  can 
scarcely  speak — "he  stammers  all  over."  He 
is  impulsive :  he  often  stammers  in  conse 
quence.  He  is  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  bring 
out  his  words ;  they  do  not  flow  in  proper 
sequence :  hence  his  words  are  broken  and 
disjointed. 

Stammering,  of  course,  might  be  owing 


either  to  some  organic  defect,  such  as  from 
defective  palate,  or  from  defective  brain,  then 
nothing  will  cure  him ;  or  it  might  be  owing 
to  "nervous"  causes — to  "irregular  nervous 
action,"  then  a  cure  might,  with  care  and 
perseverance,  be  usually  effected. 

In  all  cases  of  stammering  of  a  child,  let 
both  the  palate  of  his  mouth  and  the  bridle 
of  his  tongue  be  carefully  examined,  to  see 
that  neither  the  palate  be  defective,  nor  the 
bridle  of  the  tongue  be  too  short — that  he 
be  not  tongue-tied. 

How  to  Cure  Stammering. 

Now  with  regard  to  Treatment. — Make 
him  speak  slowly  and  deliberately ;  let  him 
form  each  word,  without  clipping  or  chop 
ping ;  let  him  be  made,  when  you  are  alone 
with  him,  to  exercise  himself  in  elocution. 
If  he  speak  quickly,  stop  him  in  his  mid- 
career,  and  make  him,  quietly  and  deliber 
ately,  go  through  the  sentence  again  and 
again,  until  he  has  mastered  the  difficulty ; 
teach  him  to  collect  his  thoughts,  and  to 
weigh  each  word  ere  he  give  it  utterance ; 
practice  him  in  singing  little  hymns  and 
songs  for  children ;  this  you  will  find  a  valu 
able  help  in  the  cure.  A  stammerer  seldom 
stutters  when  he  sings.  When  he  sings,  he 
has  a  full  knowledge  of  the  words,  and  is 
obliged  to  keep  in  time — to  sing  neither  too 
fast  nor  too  slow.  Besides,  he  sings  in  a  dif 
ferent  key  to  his  speaking  voice.  Many  pro 
fessors  for  the  treatment  of  stammering  cure 
their  patients  by  practicing  lessons  of  a  sing- 
song  character. 

Never  jeer  him  for  stammering,  nor  turn 
him  to  ridicule ;  if  you  do,  it  will  make  him 
ten  times  worse  ;  but  be  patient  and  gentle 
with  him,  and  endeavor  to  give  him  confi 
dence,  and  encourage  him  to  speak  to  you 
as  quietly,  as  gently  and  deliberately  as  you 
speak  to  him ;  tell  him  not  to  speak  until  he 


THE  ALL-IMPORTANT  NURSERY. 


187 


rranged  his  thoughts  and  chosen  his 
words ;  let  him  do  nothing  in  a  hurry. 

Demosthenes  was  said,  in  his  youth,  to  have 
stammered  fearfully,  and  to  have  cured  him 
self  by  his  own  prescription,  namely,  by 
putting  a  pebble  in  his  mouth,  and  declaim 
ing,  frequently,  slowly,  quietly,  and  deliber 
ately,  on  the  sea-shore — the  fishes  alone  being 
his  audience — until  at  length  he  cured  him 
self,  and  charmed  the  world  with  his  eloquence 
and  with  his  elocution.  He  is  held  up,  to  this 
very  day,  as  the  personification  and  as  the 
model  of  an  orator.  His  patience,  persever 
ance,  and  practice  ought,  by  all  who  either 
are  stammerers,  or  are  interested  in  them,  to 
be  borne  in  mind  and  followed. 

Plain  Rules  for  Health. 

Do  you  approve  of  a  carpet  in  a  nursery  ? 

No ;  unless  it  be  a  small  piece  for  a  child 
to  roll  upon.  A  carpet  harbors  dirt  and  dust, 
which  dust  is  constantly  floating  about  the 
atmosphere,  and  thus  making  it  impure  for 
him  to  breathe.  The  truth  of  this  may  be 
easily  ascertained  by  entering  a  darkened 
room,  where  a  ray  of  sunshine  is  struggling 
through  a  crevice  in  the  shutters.  If  the 
floor  of  a  nursery  must  be  covered,  let  drug 
get  be  laid  down ;  and  this  may  every  morn 
ing  be  taken  up  and  shaken.  The  less  furni 
ture  a  nursery  contains  the  better ;  for  much 
furniture  obstructs  the  free  circulation  of  the 
air  and,  moreover,  prevents  a  child  from 
taking  proper  play  and  exercise  in  the  room 
—an  abundance  of  which  are  absolutely 
necessary  for  his  health. 

Do  you  approve,  during  the  summer 
months,  of  sending  a  child  out  before  break 
fast? 

I  do,  when  the  weather  will  permit,  and 
provided  the  wind  be  neither  in  an  easterly 
nor  in  a  northeasterly  direction ;  indeed,  he 
can  scarcely  be  too  much  in  the  open  air. 


He  must  not  be  allowed  to  stand  about  in 
draughts  or  about  entries,  and  the  only  way 
to  prevent  him  doing  so  is  for  the  mother 
herself  to  accompany  the  nurse.  She  will 
then  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone,  as  she  will, 
by  doing  so,  benefit  her  own  as  well  as  ba1 
child's  health.  , 

Ought  a  child  to  be  early  put  on  his  feei  tt 
walk? 

No ;  let  him  learn  to  walk  himself.  He 
ought  to  be  put  upon  a  carpet;  and  it  will 
be  found  that  when  he  is  strong  enough,  he 
will  hold  by  a  chair,  and  will  stand  alone; 
when  he  can  do  so,  and  attempts  to  walk,  he 
should  then  be  supported.  You  must,  on  first 
putting  him  upon  his  feet,  be  guided  by  his 
own  wishes.  He  will,  as  soon  as  he  is  strong 
enough  to  walk,  have  the  inclination  to  do 
so.  When  he  has  the  inclination  and  the 
strength  it  will  be  folly  to  restrain  him ;  if 
he  have  neither  the  inclination  nor  the 
strength,  it  will  be  absurd  to  urge  him  on. 
Rely,  therefore,  to  a  certain  extent,  upon  the 
inclin^'on  of  the  child  himself.  Self-reliance 
cannot  oe  too  early  taught  him,  and,  indeed, 
every  one  else. 

Crooked  Leg's. 

In  the  generality  of  instances,  however,  a 
child  is  put  on  his  feet  too  soon,  and  the 
bones,  at  that  tender  age,  being  very  flexible, 
bend,  causing  bowed  and  bandy-legs ;  and  the 
knees,  being  weak,  approximate  too  closely 
together,  and  thus  they  become  knock-kneed. 
This  advice  of  not  putting  a  child  early  on 
his  feet,  I  must  strongly  insist  on,  as  many 
mothers  are  so  ridiculously  ambitious  that 
their  young  ones  should  walk  early — that 
they  should  walk  before  other  children  of 
their  acquaintance  have  attempted — that 
they  have  frequently  caused  the  above 
lamentable  deformities. 

Supposing  it  to  be  wet  under  foot^  but  dry 


i88 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


above,  do  you  then  approve  of  sending  a  child 
out? 

If  the  wind  be  neither  in  the  east  nor 
the  north-east,  and  if  the  air  be  not  damp, 
let  him  be  well  wrapped  up  and  be  sent  out 
If  he  be  laboring  under  an  inflammation  of 
the  lungs,  however  slight,  or  if  he  be  just 
recovering  from  one,  it  would,  of  course,  be 
highly  improper.  In  the  management  of  a 
child,  we  must  take  care  neither  to  coddle 
nor  to  expose  him  unnecessarily,  as  both  are 
dangerous. 

Never  send  a  child  out  to  walk  in  a  fog ; 
he  will,  if  you  do,  be  almost  sure  to  catch 
cold.  It  would  be  much  safer  to  send  him 
out  in  rain  than  in  a  fog,  though  neither  the 
one  nor  the  other  would  be  desirable. 

Keep  the  Blood  Circulating. 

How  many  times  a  day  in  fine  weather 
ought  a  child  to  be  sent  out? 

Let  him  be  sent  out  as  often  as  it  be  pos 
sible.  If  a  child  lived  more  in  the  open 
air  than  he  is  wont  to  do,  he  would  neither 
be  so  susceptible  to  disease,  nor  would  he 
suffer  so  much  from  teething,  nor  from 
catching  cold. 

Supposing  the  day  to  be  wet,  what  exercise 
would  you  then  recommend? 

The  child  ought  to  run  either  about  a 
large  room,  or  about  the  hall ;  and  if  it  does 
not  rain  violently,  you  should  put  on  his  hat 
and  throw  up  the  window,  taking  care  while 
the  window  is  open  that  he  does  not  stand 
still.  A  wet  day  is  the  day  for  him  to  hold 
hi.c  high  court  of  revelry,  and  "to  make 
him  as  happy  as  the  day  is  long." 

Do  not  on  any  account  allow  him  to  sit 
any  length  of  time  at  a  table,  amusing  him- 
Belf  with  books ;  let  him  be  active  and  stir 
ring,  that  his  blood  may  freely  circulate  as 
it  ought  to  do,  and  that  his  muscles  may  be 
well  developed.  I  would  rather  see  him 


actively  engaged  in  mischief  than  sitting 
still,  doing  nothing !  He  ought  to  be  put 
on  the  floor,  and  should  then  be  tumbled 
and  rolled  about,  to  make  the  blood  bound 
merrily  through  the  vessels,  to  stir  up  the 
liver,  to  promote  digestion,  and  to  open  the 
bowels.  The  misfortune  of  it  is,  the  pres 
ent  race  of  nurses  are  so  encumbered  witb 
long  dresses,  and  so  screwed  in  with  tight 
stays  (aping  their  betters),  that  they  are  not 
able  to  stoop  properly,  and  thus  to  have  a 
good  game  of  romps  with  their  little  charges, 
"  Doing  nothing  is  doing  ill,"  is  as  true  a 
saying  as  was  ever  spoken. 

Supposing  it  to  be  winter,  and  the  weather 
very  cold>  would  you  still  send  a  child  out  ? 

Decidedly,  provided  he  be  well  wrapped 
up.  The  cold  will  brace  and  strengthen 
him.  Cold  weather  is  the  finest  tonic  irj 
the  world. 

To  Prevent  Falling. 

In  frosty  weather,  the  roads  being  slippery 
when  you  send  him  out  to  walk,  put  a  pau 
of  large  old  woolen  stockings  over  his,  boots 
or  shoes.  This  will  not  only  keep  his  feet 
and  his  legs  warm,  but  it  will  prtvant  him 
from  falling  down  and  hurting  himself. 

A  child,  in  the  winter  timt?,  requires,  to 
keep  him  warm,  plenty  of  flannel  and  plenty 
of  food,  plenty  of  fresh  ai'.d  genuine  milk, 
and  plenty  of  water  in  bis  tub  to  wash  and 
bathe  him  in  the  mornwg,  plenty  of  exercise 
and  plenty  of  play,  a^d  then  he  may  brave 
the  frosty  air.  It  iit  the  coddled,  the  half- 
washed,  and  the  half-starved  child  (half 
washed  and  half-j/Larved  from  either  the 
mother's  ignorance  or  from  the  mother's 
timidity),  that  7,3  the  chilly  starveling- 
catching  cold  at  every  breath  of  wind,  and 
every  time  he  either  walks  or  is  carried  out 
— a  puny,  skim?  /,  scraggy,  scare-crow,  more 
dead  than  alive,  and  more  fit  for  his  grave 


THE  ALL-IMPORTANT  NURSERY. 


189 


t'han  for  the  rough  world  he  will  have  to 

struggle  in !     7f  the  above  advice  be  strictly 

followed,  a  child  may  be  sent  out  in   the 
coldest  weather,  even — 

When  icicles  hang  by  the  wall, 

And  Dick,  the  shepherd,  blows  his  nail', 

And  Tom  bears  logs  into  the  hall, 
And  milk  comes  frozen  home  in  pail. 

Shakespeare. 

Amusements  for  Children. 

Have  you  any  remarks  to  make  on  the 
amusements  of  a  child  ? 

Let  the  amusements  of  a  child  be  as  much 
as  possible  out  of  doors ;  let  him  spend  the 
greater  part  of  every  day  in  the  open  air ;  let 
him  exert  himself  as  much  as  he  please,  his 
'eelings  will  tell  him  when  to  rest  and  wiien 
,o  begin  again  ;  let  him  be  what  Nature  in- 
Bended  him  to  be — a  happy,  laughing,  joyous 
ihild.  Do  not  let  him  be  always  poring 
over  books : 

Books  !  '  tis  a  dull  and  endless  strife, 
Come,  hear  the  woodland  linnet  I 

How  sweet  his  music !     On  niy  life, 
There's  more  of  wisdom  in  it. 

And  hark  !  how  blithe  the  throstle  sings  I 

He,  too,  is  no  mean  preacher ; 
Come  forth  into  the  light  of  things, — 

Let  Nature  be  your  teacher. 

She  has  a  world  of  ready  wealth, 

Our  minds  and  hearts  to  bless, — 
Spontaneous  wisdom  breathed  by  health, 

Truth  breathed  by  cheerfulness. 

One  impulse  from  a  vernal  wood 

May  teach  you  more  of  man, 
Of  moral  evil  and  of  good, 

Than  all  the  sages  can. —  Wordsworth. 

Ke  ought  to  be  encouraged  to  engage  in 
'hose  sports  wherein  the  greatest  number  of 
muscles  are  brought  into  play.  For  instance, 
io  play  at  ball,  or  hoop,  or  football,  to  play  at 
horses,  to  run  to  certain  distances  and  back  ; 
ind,  if  a  girl,  to  amuse  herself  with  a  skip 
ping  rope,  such  being  excellent  exercise — 

By  sports  like  these  are  all  their  cares  beguiled, 
The  sports  of  children  satisfy  the  child. — Goldsmith. 

Every  child,  where  it  be  practicable,  should 
Have  a  small  plot  of  ground  to  cultivate,  that 


he  may  dig  and  delve  in.  and  make  dirt  pica 
if  he  choose.  Children  now-a-days,  unfor 
tunately,  are  not  allowed  to  soil  their  hands 
and  their  fine  clothes.  For  my  own  part,  I 
dislike  such  model  children  ;  let  a  child  be 
natural — let  him,  as  far  as  is  possible,  choose 
his  own  sports.  Do  not  be  always  interfere 
ing  with  his  pursuits,  and  be  finding  fault 
with  him.  Remember,  what  may  be  amus 
ing  to  you  may  be  distasteful  to  him.  I  do 
not,  of  course,  mean  but  that  you  should 
constantly  have  a  watchful  eye  over  him ;  yet 
do  not  let  him  see  that  he  is  under  restraint 
or  surveillance;  if  you  do  you  will  never 
discover  his  true  character  and  inclinations. 
Not  only  so,  but  do  not  dim  the  bright  sun, 
shine  of  his  early  life  by  constantly  checking 
and  thwarting  him.  Tupper  beautifully 
says — 

And  check  not  a  child  in  his  merriment- 
Should  not  his  morning  be  sunny  ? 

When,  therefore,  he  is  either  in  the  nursery 
or  in  the  play-ground,  let  him  shout  and  riot 
and  romp  about  as  much  as  he  please.  His 
lungs  and  his  muscles  want  developing,  and 
his  nerves  require  strengthening ;  and  how 
can  such  be  accomplished  unless  you  allow 
them  to  be  developed  and  strengthened  by 
natural  means? 

The  nursery  is  a  child's  own  domain  ;  it  is 
his  castle,  and  he  should  be  Lord  Paramount 
therein.  If  he  choose  to  blow  a  whistle,  or 
to  spring  a  rattle,  or  to  make  any  other 
hideous  noise,  which  to  him  is  sweet  music, 
he  should  be  allowed,  without  let  or  hin* 
drance,  to  do  so.  If  any  members  of  the 
family  have  weak  nerves,  let  them  keep  at  a 
respectful  distance. 

Good  Little  Idiots. 

A  child  who  never  gets  into  mischief  must 
be  either  sly,  or  delicate,  or  idiotic ;  indeed, 
the  system  of  many  persons,  in  bringing  up 
children,  is  likely  to  make  them  either  the 


;OURT5HIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


one  or  the  other.  The  present  plan  of  train 
ing  children  is  nearly  all  work  (books),  and 
very  little  play.  Play,  and  plenty  of  it,  is 
necessary  to  the  very  existence  of  a  child. 

A  boy  not  partial  to  mischief,  innocent 
mischief,  and  play,  is  unnatural ;  he  is  a  man 
before  his  timet  he  is  a  nuisance,  he  is  dis 
agreeable  to  himself  and  to  every  one  around. 
He  is  generally  a  sneak  and  a  little  humbug. 

Female  Simpletons. 

Girls  at  the  present  time,  are  made  uever 
jrimpletons;  their  brains  are  worked  with 
useless  knowledge,  which  totally  unfits  them 
for  every-day  duties.  Their  muscles  are  al 
lowed  to  be  idle,  which  makes  them  limp 
and  flabby.  The  want  of  proper  exercise 
ruins  the  complexion,  and  their  faces  become 
of  the  color  of  a  tallow  candle !  And  precious 
wives  and  mothers  they  make  when  *hey 
do  grow  up  I 

What  an  unnatural  thing  it  is  to  confine  a 
child  several  hours  a  day  to  his  lessons  ;  why 
you  might  as  well  put  a  colt  in  harness,  and 
make  him  work  for  his  living !  A  child  is 
made  for  play ;  his  roguish  little  eye,  his  little 
figure,  his  antics,  and  his  drollery,  all  point 
out  that  he  is  cut  out  for  play — that  it  is  as 
necessary  to  his  existence  as  the  food  he  eats, 
and  as  the  air  he  breathes!  His  lessons 
should  be  such  as  will  amuse  while  they  in 
struct. 

A  child  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  have 
playthings  with  which  he  can  injure  either 
himself  or  others,  such  as  toy-swords,  toy- 
cannons,  toy-paint-boxes,  knives,  bows  and 
arrows,  hammers,  chisels,  saws,  etc.  He 
will  not  only  be  likely  to  injure  himself  and 
others,  but  will  make  sad  havoc  on  furniture, 
house,  and  other  property.  Fun,  frolic,  and 
play  ought,  in  all  innocent  ways  to  be  en 
couraged  ;  but  wilful  mischief  and  danger 
ous  games  ought,  by  every  means,  to  be  dis 


countenanced.     This    advice  is    frequent 
much  needed,  as  children  prefer  to  have  am 
delight  in   dangerous  toys,  and  often  coax, 
and  persuade  weak  and  indulgent  mothers 
to  gratify  their  wishes. 

Parents  often  make  Sunday  a  day  c* 
gloom :  to  this  I  much  object.  Of  aF  tlte 
days  in  the  week,  Sunday  should  be  the  most 
cheerful  and  pleasant.  It  is  considered  by 
the  Church  a  festival ;  and  a  glorious  festival 
it  ought  to  be  made,  and  one  on  which  our 
Heavenly  Father  wishes  to  see  all  His 
children  happy  and  full  of  innocent  joy !  Let 
Sunday,  then,  be  made  a  cheerful,  joyous, 
innocently  happy  day,  and  not,  as  it  frequent 
ly  is,  the  most  miserable  and  dismal  in  the 
week.  It  is  my  firm  conviction  that  many 
men  have  been  made  irreligious  by  the  ridic 
ulously  strict  and  dismal  way  they  were 
compelled,  as  children,  to  spend  their  Sun 
days.  You  can  no  more  make  a  child  re 
ligious  by  gloomy  asceticism,  than  you  can 
make  people  good  by  Act  of  Congress. 

Criminal  Folly. 

One  of  the  great  follies  of  the  present  age 
is  children's  parties,  where  they  are  allowed 
to  be  dressed  up  l^ke  grown-up  women,  stuck 
out  in  petticoats,  and  encouraged  to  eat  rich 
cake  and  pastry,  and  to  drink  wine,  and  to 
sit  up  late  at  night!  There  is  something 
disgusting  anil  demoralizing  in  all  this. 
Their  pure  minds  are  blighted  by  it  Do 
not  let  me  be  misunderstood :  there  is  not 
the  least  objection,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
great  advantage,  for  friends'  children  to  meet 
friends'  children ;  but  then  let  them  be  treated 
as  children,  and  not  as  men  and  women ! 

Do  you  approve  of  public  play-grounds 
for  children  ? 

It  would  be  well,  in  every  village,  and  in 
the  outskirts  of  every  town,  if  a  large  plot  d 
ground  were  set  apart  for  children  to  play  in 


THE  ALL-IMPORTANT  NURSERY. 


191 


and  to  go  through  regular  gymnastic  exer 
cises.  Play  is  absolutely  necessary  to  a 
child's  very  existence,  as  much  as  food  and 
sleep.  Play-grounds  and  play  are  the  best 
schools  we  have  ;  they  teach  a  great  deal  not 
taught  elsewhere ;  they  give  lessons  in  health, 
which  is  the  grandest  wealth  that  can  be 
bestowed — "for  health  is  wealth:"  they 
prepare  the  soil  for  the  future  schoolmaster  ; 
they  clear  the  brain,  and  thus  the  intellect ; 
they  strengthen  the  muscles ;  they  make  the 
blood  course  merrily  through  the  arteries; 
they  bestow  healthy  food  for  the  lungs ;  they 
give  an  appetite ;  they  make  a  child,  in  due 
time,  become  every  inch  a  man !  Play 
grounds  and  play  are  one  of  the  finest  institu 
tions  we  possess.  What  would  our  large 
public  schools  be  without  their  play  and  ball 
grounds?  They  would  be  shorn  of  half  their 
splendor  and  their  usefulness ! 

There  is  so  much  talk  now-a-days  about 
useful  knowledge,  that  the  importance  of 
play  and  play-grounds  is  likely  to  be  forgot 
ten.  I  cannot  help  thinking,  however,  that 
a  better  state  of  things  is  dawning.  It  seems 
to  be  found  out  that  in  our  zeal  for  useful 
knowledge,  that  knowledge  is  found  to  be 
not  the  least  useful  which  treats  boys  as  active, 
stirring,  aspiring,  and  ready. 

Mistakes  of  Education. 
Do  you  approve  of  infant  schools  f 
I  do,  if  the  arrangements  be  such  that 
health  is  preferred  before  learning.  Let 
children  be  only  confined  for  three  or  four 
hours  a  day,  and  let  what  little  they  learn  be 
taught  as  an  amusement  rather  than  as  a 
labor.  A  play-ground  ought  to  be  attached 
to  an  infant  school ;  where,  in  fine  weather, 
for  every  half-hour  they  spend  in-doors,  they 
should  spend  one  in  the  open  air ;  and,  in 
wet  weather,  they  ought  to  have,  in  lieu  of 
the  play-ground,  a  large  room  to  romp,  and 
shout,  and  riot  in.  To  develop  the  different 


organs,  muscles,  and  other  parts  of  the  body, 
children  require  fresh  air,  a  free  use  of  their 
lungs,  active  exercise,  and  their  bodies  to  be 
thrown  into  all  manner  of  attitudes.  Let  a 
child  mope  in  a  corner,  and  he  will  become 
stupid  and  sickly.  The  march  of  intellect,  as 
it  is  called,  or  rather  the  double  quick  march 
of  intellect,  as  it  should  be  called,  has  stolen 
a  march  upon  health.  Only  allow  the  march 
of  intellect  and  the  march  of  health  to  take 
equal  strides,  and  then  we  shall  have  "  menA 
sana  in  cor  pore  sano"  (a  sound  mind  in  9 
sound  body). 

In  the  education  of  a  young  child  it  is 
better  to  instruct  him  by  illustration,  by  pic 
tures,  and  by  encouraging  observation  on 
things  around  and  about  him,  than  by 
books.  It  is  surprising  how  much,  without 
endangering  his  health,  may  be  taught  in 
this  way. 

Over  Education. 

Children  at  the  present  day  are  too  highly 
educated — their  brains  are  over-taxed,  and 
thus  weakened.  The  consequence  is,  that  as 
they  grow  up  to  manhood,  if  they  grow  up  at 
all,  they  become  fools ! 

Screw  not  the  cord  too  sharply,  lest  it  snap. 

Tennyson. 

You  should  treat  a  child  as  you  would  a 
young  colt.  Think  only  at  first  of  strength" 
ening  his  body.  Let  him  have  a  perfectly 
free,  happy  life,  plenty  of  food  to  eat,  abund 
ance  of  air  to  breathe,  and  no  work  to  do  j 
there  is  plenty  of  time  to  think  of  his  learn 
ing — of  giving  him  brain  work.  It  will 
come  sadly  too  soon  ;  but  do  not  make  him 
old  before  his  time. 

At  what  age  do  you  advise  my  child  to 
begin  his  course  of  education — to  have  his 
regular  lessons? 

In  the  name  of  the  prophet — Figs  !  Fid 
dlesticks  !  about  courses  of  education 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


regular  lessons  for  a  child  i  You  may  as  well 
ask  me  when  he,  a  child,  is  to  begin  Hebrew, 
the  Sanscrit,  and  Mathematics  !  Let  him 
have  a  course  of  education  in  play  ;  let  him 
go  through  regulpj:  lessons  in  foot-ball,  bandy, 
playing  at  hares  and  hounds,  and  such  like 
excellent  and  really  useful  and  health-giving 
Wessons.  Begin  his  lessons !  Begin  brain 
work,  and  make  an  idiot  of  him  !  Oh  !  for 
shame,  ye  mothers !  You  who  pretend  to 
love  your  children  so  much,  and  to  tax, 
otherwise  to  injure,  irreparably  to  injure 
their  brains,  and  thus  their  intellects  and 
their  health,  and  to  shorten  their  very  days. 
And  all  for  what?  To  make  prodigies  of 
them  !  Fo-3ooth  !  to  make  fools  of  them 
in  the  erA. 

Well,  then,  as  you  have  such  a  great  objec 
tion  to  a  child  commencing  his  education  early 
in  life,  at  what  age  may  he,  with  safety,  com 
mence  his  lessons  f 

Remember,  as  above  stated,  the  brain 
must  have  but  very  little  work  until  the 
child  be  seven  years  old :  impress  this  advice 
upon  your  memory,  and  let  no  foolish  ambi 
tion  to  make  your  child  a  clever  child  allow 
you,  for  one  moment,  to  swerve  from  this 
advice. 

Build  up  a  strong,  healthy  body,  and  in 
due  time  the  brain  will  bear  a  moderate 
amount  of  intellectual  labor. 

Let  me  advise  you,  Mr.  Paterfamilias,  to 
be  careful  how  you  converse,  what  language 
you  use,  while  in  the  company  of  your  child. 
Bear  in  mind,  a  child  is  very  observant,  and 
thinks  much,  weighs  well,  and  seldom  forgets 
ail  you  say  and  all  you  do  I  Let  no  hasty 
word,  then,  and  more  especially  no  oath,  or 
no  impious  language,  ever  pass  your  lips,  if 
your  child  be  within  hearing.  It  is,  of 
course,  at  all  times  wicked  to  swear  ;  but  it 
is  heinously  and  unpardonably  sinful  to 
swear  in  the  presence  of  your  child  ! 


"Childhood  is  like  a  mirror,  catching  and 
reflecting  images.  One  impious  or  profane 
thought,  uttered  by  a  parent's  lip,  may 
operate  upon  the  young  heart  like  a  careless 
spray  of  water  thrown  upon  polished  steel, 
staining  it  with  rust,  which  no  after-scouring 
can  efface. " 

Never  talk  secrets  before  a  child — "little 
pitchers  have  long  ears ;  "  if  you  do,  and  he 
disclose  your  secrets — as  most  likely  he  will 
— and  thus  make  mischief,  it  will  be  cruel  to 
scold  him ;  you  will,  for  your  imprudence, 
have  only  yourself  to  blame.  Be  most  care 
ful,  then,  in  the  presence  of  your  child,  of 
what  you  say,  and  of  whom  you  speak. 
This  advice,  if  followed,  might  save  a  great 
deal  of  annoyance  and  vexation. 

Are  you  an  advocate  for  a  child  being 
taught  singing  ? 

I  am :  I  consider  singing  a  part  of  his 
education.  Singing  expands  the  walls  of  his 
chest,  strengthens  and  invigorates  his  lungs, 
gives  sweetness  to  his  voice,  improves  his 
pronunciation,  and  is  a  great  pleasure  and 
amusement  to  him. 

Importance  of  Sleep. 

Do  you  recommend  a  child,  in  the  middle  of 
the  day,  to  be  put  to  sleep  ? 

Let  him  be  put  on  his  mattress  awake,  that 
he  may  sleep  for  a  couple  of  hours  before 
dinner,  then  he  will  rise  both  refreshed  and 
strengthened  for  the  remainder  of  the  day.  I 
said,  let  him  be  put  down  awake.  He 
might,  for  the  first  few  times,  cry,  but,  by 
perseverance,  he  will  without  any  difficulty 
fall  to  sleep.  The  practice  of  sleeping  before 
dinner  ought  to  be  continued  until  he  be 
three  years  old,  and,  if  he  can  be  prevailed 
upon,  even  longer.  For  if  he  do  not  have 
sleep  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  he  will  all 
the  afternoon  and  the  evening  be  cross ;  and 
when  he  does  go  to  bed,  he  will  probably  be 


THE  ALL-IMPORTANT  NURSERY. 


193 


too  tired  to  sleep,  or  his  nerves  having1  been 
exhausted  by  the  long  wakefulness,  he  will 
fall  into  a  troubled,  broken  slumber,  and  not 
into  the  sweet,  soft,  gentle  repose,  so  charac 
teristic  of  healthy,  happy  childhood. 

At  what  hour  ought  a  child  to  be  put  to 
bed  in  the  evening  ? 

At  six  in  the  winter,  and  at  seven  o'clock 
in  the  summer.  Regularity  ought  to  be 
observed,  as  regularity  is  very  conducive  to 
health.  It  is  a  reprehensible  practice  to 
keep  a  child  up  until  nine  or  ten  o'clock  at 
night.  If  this  be  done,  he  will,  before  his 
time,  become  old,  and  the  seeds  of  disease 
will  be  sown. 

How  Ought  a  Child's  Feet  to  be  Clothed? 

He  ought,  during  the  winter,  to  wear 
lamb's  wool  stockings  that  will  reach  above 
the  knees,  and  thick  calico  drawers  that  will 
reach  a  few  inches  below  the  knees ;  as  it  is 
of  the  utmost  importance  to  keep  the  lower 
extremities  comfortably  warm.  It  is  really 
painful  to  see  how  many  mothers  expose  the 
bare  legs  of  their  little  ones  to  the  frosty  air, 
even  in  the  depths  of  winter. 

Be  sure  and  see  that  the  boots  and  shoes 
of  your  child  be  sound  and  whole;  for  if 
they  be  not  so,  they  will  let  in  the  damp,  and 
if  the  damp,  disease  and  perhaps  death.  If 
the  poor  would  take  better  care  of  their 
children's  feet,  half  the  infantile  mortality 
would  disappear.  It  only  costs  a  few  cents 
to  put  a  piece  of  thick  felt  or  cork  into  the 
bottom  of  a  boot  or  shoe,  and  the  difference 
is  often  between  that  and  a  doctor's  bill, 
with,  perhaps,  the  undertaker's  besides. 

Garters  ought  not  to  be  worn,  as  they  im 
pede  the  circulation,  waste  the  muscles,  and 
interfere  with  walking.  The  stocking  may 
be  secured  in  its  place  by  means  of  &  loop 
and  tape,  fastened  to  a  part  of  the  dress. 

Let  me  urge  upon  you  the  importance  of 
lot  allowing  your  child  to  wear  tight  shoes ; 
13 


they  cripple  the  feet,  causing  the  joints  of 
the  toes,  which  ought  to  have  free  play,  and 
which  should  assist  in  walking,  to  be,  in  a 
manner  useless ;  they  produce  corns  and 
bunions,  and  interfere  with  the  proper  cir 
culation  of  the  foot.  A  shoe  ought  to  be 
made  according  to  the  shape  of  the  foot — 
rights  and  lefts  are  therefore  desirable.  The 
toe-part  of  the  shoe  must  be  made  broad,  so 
as  to  allow  plenty  of  room  for  the  toes  to  ex- 
pand,  and  that  one  toe  cannot  overlap 
another.  Be  sure,  then,  that  there  be  no 
pinching  and  no  pressure. 

A  shoe  for  a  child  ought  to  be  made  with 
a  narrow  strap  over  the  instep,  and  with 
button  and  button  hole ;  if  it  be  not  made 
in  this  way,  the  shoe  will  not  keep  on  the 
foot 

It  is  a  grievous  state  of  things,  that  in  the 
nineteenth  century  there  are  but  few  shoe 
makers  who  know  how  to  make  a  shoe! 
The  shoe  is  made  not  to  fit  a  real  foot,  but  a 
fashionable  imaginary  one !  The  poor  un 
fortunate  toes  are  in  consequence  screwed 
up  as  in  a  vise  ! 

Let  me  strongly  urge  you  to  be  particular 
that  the  sock,  or  stocking,  fits  nicely — that 
it  is  neither  too  small  nor  too  large ;  if  it 
be  too  small,  it  binds  up  the  toes  unmerci 
fully,  and  makes  one  toe  to  ride  over  the 
other,  and  thus  renders  the  toes  perfectly  use 
less  in  walking;  if  it  be  too  large,  it  is 
necessary  to  lap  a  portion  of  the  sock,  or 
stocking,  either  under  or  over  the  toes,  which 
thus  presses  unduly  upon  them,  and  gives 
pain  and  annoyance. 

After  weaning,  a  child's  diet  should  con 
sist  at  first  principally  of  milk,  and  only  by 
degrees  should  custards  and  gruels  be  added 
until  solid  food  is  given.  Meat  broth  in 
which  a  raw  egg  has  been  beaten  up  may  be 
followed  by  oatmeal  gruel,  barley  water 
mixed  with  milk,  later  on  by  rice,  sago,  01 


194 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


farina  cooked  in  milk,  and  at  last  by  finely 
cut  meat  and  bread  or  crackers.  "  The  child 
must  learn  never  to  drink  its  milk  rapidly. 
The  daily  quantum  of  meat,  preferably  beef, 
lamb,  or  poultry,  may  be  increased  to  three 
or  four  ounces,  to  be  given  in  two  meals." 
Spiced  foods  or  drinks,  coffee,  tea,  wine, 
beer,  and  sharp  condiments,  are  to  be  avoided. 
When  recovering  from  exhausting  disease 
rich  wines  or  malt  extracts  are  allowable, 
but  they  are  to  be  prescribed  only  by  the 
physician.  Potatoes,  in  whatever  form,  are 
to  be  given  very  sparingly,  anu  so  too  is 
black  bread.  It  is  a  very  bad  practice  for 
parents  to  give  their  little  ones  a  portion  of 
everything  that  comes  upon  the  table.  It  13 
much  better  to  give  the  children  their  meals 
before  dinner  or  supper  time,  and  not  to  let 
them  sit  at  the  table  at  all. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  third  or  at  the  be 
ginning  of  the  fourth  year  of  its  life  a  child 
should  be  taught  to  accustom  itself  to  cold 
air  and  to  somewhat  cooler  water.  It  is  not 
well,  however,  to  force  the  hardening  of 
children  in  this  respect  Many  children  have 
an  antipathy  to  cold,  and  often  it  affects  dis 
astrously  the  brain  or  lungs. 

Cleanliness  should  be  inculcated  in  every 
respect,  as  to  dresses  and  underwear,  eating 
and  drinking,  and  all  other  requirements. 
But  we  must  not  be  too  rigid  and  exacting 
in  this  respect  The  child's  play  and  its 
freedom  of  movement  in  the  open  air  should 
not  be  allowed  to  be  hampered.  This  brings 
to  mind  the  story  related  of  Emperor  Joseph 
II. ,  of  Austria,  who,  when  a  boy,  was  asked 
'dy  his  governor  what  present  he  would  most 
like  upon  his  birthday.  "  Only  let  me  play 
9nce  the  way  those  children  are  allowed  to 
play,"  he  answered,  and  pointed  to  a  num 
ber  of  children  digging  in  a  large  heap  of 
MO& 


The  dresses  should  be  short  and  should 
not  fit  tightly,  the  head  and  neck  should 
be  left  entirely  free,  and  only  against  the  sun, 
cold  and  wind  should  protection  be  given. 

Mental  training  ought  continually  to  be 
regarded,  and  it  should  be  consistent,  dispas 
sionate,  and  severe,  but  at  the  same  time  lov« 
ing  words  should  show  the  child  that  all  is 
meant  for  its  own  good.  A  great  blessing, 
especially  to  parents  who  have  little  time  to 
spare,  are  kindergartens  after  the  method 
of  Froebel. 

During  their  school  years  children  require 
an  abundance  of  good,  substantial  food.  No 
coffee  or  tea  is  necessary:  milk  and  cocoa 
are  much  more  heathful.  Some  parents  are 
accustomed  to  forbid  the  use  of  salt,  of  dishes 
which  contain  much  fat,  and  the  free  con 
sumption  of  drinking-water.  This  must 
not  be  overdone,  since  the  human  body  re 
quires  a  considerable  supply  of  both  salt  and 
water. 

In  boarding-schools  and  other  institutions 
the  children  should  be  dressed  alike,  the 
quality  of  the  goods  as  well  as  the  cut  and 
color  of  wearing  apparel  being  exactly  simi 
lar,  in  order  to  prevent  ill-feeling  upon  the 
one  side  or  assumption  upon  the  other. 
Many  of  the  styles  worn  by  children  at  pres 
ent  actually  encourage  the  passion  for  dress 
and  finery,  especially  in  girls,  and  show  that 
parents  do  not  love  their  children  as  they 
should.  Mothers  with  common  sense  always 
strive  to  promote  a  taste  for  simplicity,  which 
alone  is  really  aristocratic,  and  thereby  to 
prevent  their  daughters  from  holding  as  their 
sole  object  in  life  the  ridiculous  and  unnat 
ural  passion  for  expensive  dress,  jewelry,  and 
display,  which  constitutes  the  sole  ambition 
of  so  many  women.  Extravagant  dress  is 
seldom  accompanied  with  neatness  and  taste, 
without  which  all  dress  is  an  abomination. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Home  Occupations  for  Leisure  Hours. 


[ERE  has  been  a  revival  of  taste  in 
common  things,  and  we  care  much 
more  than  our  grandparents  did 
about  surrounding  ourselves  with  beauty. 
The  struggle  of  life  was  harder  for  them, 
and  they  had  not  time,  as  we  have,  for 
adorning  tables  and  chairs,  arranging  corners 
so  that  they  are  artistic  and  not  hideous,  and 
making  windows  and  walls  rich  with  color 
and  fair  with  softly  falling  drapery. 

Embroidery. 

Among  the  most  popular  home  occupa 
tions  for  ladies  at  the  present  day,  we  may 
name  embroidery.  The  loom  and  the  spin 
ning-wheel,  in  one  simple  form  or  another, 
are  as  old  as  history,  and  our  devotion  to  the 
embroidery  frame  is  only  a  return  to  the 
work  which  mediaeval  ladies  found  delight 
ful.  True,  few  of  them  could  read  or  write, 
and  so  the  needle  was  their  only  form  of  ex 
pression,  while  all  doors  are  open  to  us.  But, 
though  not  shut  up  to  embroidery,  it  is 
pleasant  work  for  a  group  of  merry  girls  or 
thoughtful  women. 

To  speak  of  materials,  the  most  expensive 
are  silk,  velvet,  tissue,  gold  and  silver  cloth, 
velveteen,  and  plush.  Among  cheaper  ma 
terials  which  are  available  in  household  art, 
are  linens  of  various  degrees  of  fineness, 
crash,  sateen,  Bolton,  sheeting,  serge,  and 
canton  flannel. 

Imagine  the  old  funereal  parlor  with 
ghostly  windows,  hung  with  white  shades,  a 
marble  mantel  deathly  white,  a  marble- 
topped  table  with  a  few  ambrotypes  and 
animals  in  led  and  gilt  on  its  chilly  surface, 


and  then  think  how  even  such  a  room  may 
bloom  in  brightness  when  a  fair  magician 
has  touched  it  with  her  needle.  Behold! 
Creamy  curtains  drape  the  windows,  a  lam 
brequin  covers  the  frozen  mantel,  the  tables 
are  hidden  under  cloths  which  make  each  a 
warm  and  glowing  spot  to  attract  the  eye, 
and  a  screen  cuts  off  the  angles,  while  the 
room  seems  to  invite  you  in  to  rest  and  be 
refreshed. 

Every  lady  wno  gives  her  mind  to  it, 
whether  greatly  skilled  or  not,  can  improve 
a  dull  and  dingy  room  by  a  few  judicious 
alterations,  and  every  young  girl  may,  if  she 
choose,  learn  to  embroider  at  odd  moments, 
and  little  by  little  transform  her  abode  from 
ugliness  to  beauty. 

Crewels  are  used  for  working  on  linen, 
serge  and  flannel.  Tapestry  wool  is  much 
thicker  than  crewel  and  is  useful  on  coarse 
fabrics.  Embroidery  silk  is  preferred  for 
silk,  satin,  or  fine  materials.  In  working 
with  crewels,  cut  your  threads  into  short 
lengths.  It  is  difficult  to  use  too  long  a 
thread  without  puckering  up  the  work. 

Plush,  which  is  the  most  elegant  and 
effective  material  for  banners,  draperies,  and 
covers,  is  very  costly.  A  good  quality  is 
worth  $4.50  a  yard.  Woolen  plush  is  a  little 
less  than  silk,  but  is  also  expensive.  Canton 
flannel  which  comes  in  double  width,  and 
finished  alike  on  both  sides,  in  all  the  rich 
and  desirable  colors,  can  be  bought  for  ninety 
cents  a  yard. 

Felting,  which  is  thick  and  stubborn, 
though  useful  for  some  purposes,  costs  $1.50 

195 


196 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


a  yard,  and  is  two  yards  wide.  Velveteen 
tan  be  had  from  $1.00  a  yard  and  upward. 
Velvets  and  satins  cost  anywhere  from  $3.00 
to  $6.00,  and  satin  brocatelle  is  $10.00  a  yard. 

STITCHES. — Stem-stitch  is  very  simple.  It 
is  just  a  single  long  stitch  forward,  and  a 
short  one  backward,  and  then  another  long 
ttitch  a  little  in  advance  of  the  first.  In 
working  outlines,  great  care  must  be  taken 
to  keep  precisely  the  line  of  the  pattern,  and  to 
keep  the  thread  to  the  left  of  the  needle. 
Some  knowledge  of  drawing  is  necessary  to 
a  good  embroiderer.  Leaves  and  flowers  or 
conventional  designs,  should  be  nicely  drawn 
o*  stamped  before  beginning  to  work,  though 
sometimes  a  lady  is  so  deft  with  her  needle 
that  she  can  compose  her  pattern  as  she  goes 
on.  The  stem-stitch  may  be  longer  or 
shorter  according  to  fancy,  but  it  must  be 
even. 

Split-stitch  is  a  variety  of  stem-stitch,  but 
in  bringing  the  needle  up  through  the  mate 
rial,  it  is  passed  through  the  embroidery  silk 
or  crewel. 

Satin-stitch  is  the  same  on  both  sides. 
The  needle  must  be  taken  back  each  time  to 
the  point  from  which  it  started.  Rope-stitch 
is  a  twisted  chain-stitch ;  blanket-stitch  is  the 
ordinary  buttonhole  stitch  less  closely  worked, 
and  feather-stitch  is  a  broken  stitch,  worked 
in  a  light  airy  way,  to  suit  the  convenience 
of  the  seamstress. 

Drawn-work  consists  in  drawing  out  the 
threads  of  linen,  and  working  designs,  or 
filling  in  the  sort  of  lace  foundation  thus 
made  with  whatever  stitch  the  lady  pleases. 
This  is  very  lovely  for  tidies,  and  for  the 
bordering  of  pillow-shams,  spreads,  and 
curtains. 

The  embroiderer  needs  a  smooth  thimble, 
as  a  sharp  one  catches  in  her  silk,  a  very 
gharp  and  pointed  pair  of  scissors,  and  a  set 
of  needles  of  different  sizes. 


The  best  crewels  will  not  be  injured  by  a 
careful  laundress.  Covers  of  linen  or  sheet 
ing,  should  be  dipped  in  water  in  which  bran 
has  been  boiled.  Never  use  soda,  soap,  or 
washing-powders  for  your  pretty  things.  Do 
not  wring  them,  but  rinse  with  care,  hang 
up  to  dry,  and  when  almost  dry  stretch  care 
fully  on  a  flat  surface  and  fasten  with  pins: 
you  may  thus  safely  clean  all  cheap  embroi  * 
dered  work.  Very  costly  articles,  when 
soiled,  which  need  not  be  the  case  in  years 
of  use,  should  be  taken  to  a  cleaner. 

Applique  work  is  simply  transferred  work. 
Cut  out  pretty  figures  from  damask  or  cre 
tonne,  or  the  best  parts  of  old  and  worn 
embroideries,  and  fasten  them  securely  on  a 
foundation  of  lace,  linen  or  silk. 

Pretty  Things  which  may  be  Embroidered. 

To  leave  curtains,  lambrequins,  screens, 
and  panels,  which  are  larger  undertakings 
than  some  busy  women  have  time  for,  cush 
ions  and  chair-backs  may  be  made  in  great 
variety.  Sofa  cushions  are  always  desirable 
as  gifts.  A  long  narrow  cushion  for  the 
back  of  an  invalid's  chair,  or  a  neck-rest  for 
a  rocker,  covers  of  cool  gray  linen  to  be 
slipped  over  a  chair  that  has  lost  its  freshness, 
covers  of  all  kinds,  little  round  mats  for  the 
table,  scarf-shaped  pieces  to  brighten  the 
centre  of  a  dinner-table,  portfolios  and  letter- 
cases,  slippers,  neck  ribbons,  and  dainty 
sewing  and  knitting-aprons,  with  pockets  to 
hold  a  bit  of  work  and  a  thimble,  and  the 
needles  in  their  sheath,  are  among  the 
articles  clever  girls  can  have  on  hand. 

Tissue  Paper. 

Cut  a  piece  of  paper  the  size  yoi\  wish 
your  mat  to  be,  including  the  fringe.  The 
mat  is  prettiest  made  of  two  contrasting 
colors,  and  you  need  two  whole  sheets  cut 
into  eight  square  pieces. 

Take  the  sixteen  pieces  and  fold  each  one 


HOME  OCCUPATIONS  FOR  LEISURE  HOURS. 


197 


over  about  three-quarters  of  an  inch  wide. 
After  all  are  folded,  braid  or  weave  them  to 
gether,  half  one  way  and  half  another,  to 
form  a  square. 

Sew  the  outside  pieces  as  far  as  the  centre 
of  your  mat,  then  cut  the  fringe  as  deep  as 
you  wish  it,  and  dampen  it  by  pressing  on  it 
a  wet  cloth.  Shake  it  very  gently  until  it 
is  dry.  The  fringe  will  curl  up  and  be  very 
pretty. 

Tissue  paper  flowers  are  made  by  cutting 
the  petals  as  much  like  real  flowers  as  possi 
ble,  and  fastening  them  by  stems  of  flexible 
wire.     This  is  nice  work  for  little  fingers. 
Crochet. 

The  little  crochet  hook  is  very  old.  Its 
charm  is  that  with  so  small  a  tool  so  many 
beautiful  things  may  be  produced.  From  a 
counterpane  to  a  collar,  almost  anything  may 
be  made  with  the  crochet  needle.  Babies' 
afghans  diid  sofa  quilts  for  convalescents  are 
often  crocheted.  There  are  few  occupations 
more  fascinating  than  this. 
Knitting1. 

The  delight  of  knitting  is  its  sociability. 
One  must  give  her  close  attention  to  her  em 
broidery,  but  the  lady  who  knits  may  talk  at 
the  same  time,  and  be  witty  or  wise  as  she 
pleases.  What  pictures  rise  in  our  mind's 
eye  of  dear  old  ladies  knitting  by  the  fire, 
their  silvery  needles  flashing  and  their 
thoughts  busy  with  the  past.  Shawls  for 
breakfast  or  evening  wear  are  both  knitted 
and  crocheted.  Among  our  most  dearly- 
prized  treasures  is  a  sofa-quilt,  knitted  in  broad 
stripes,  each  like  a  gay  Roman  ribbon,  and 
crocheted  together  in  black  and  gold,  with 
deep  fringe  knotted  in  the  edge,  the  work  of 
a  lady  who  has  counted  her  seventy-six  years, 
and  reached  life's  evening  leisure. 
Patch-Work. 

Let  no  one  despise  this  homely  art.     It  is 
an  accomplishment  worth  boasting  of  to  make 


a  really  elegant  patch-work  quilt.  *f  yots 
have  pretty  patterns  or  can  procure  them, 
save  them  carefully,  for  sooner  or  later  you 
will  meet  some  elderly  woman  who  keeps  a 
quilt  on  hand,  and  fills  up  her  "  betweenities" 
by  combining  tints  and  matching  pieces  with, 
poetic  harmony. 

Elegant  Drawn  Work. 
Since  much  of  the  popular  fancy-work  of 
to-day  consists  of  what  is  genetally  known 
as  drawn  work,  we  will  devote  some  sp£.ce 
to  a  description  of  the  various  stitches  axid 
designs  used  in  that  form  of 


No.  1.— To  Hemstitch  a  Doily. 

for  the  home.  We  will  commence  at  the 
beginning  with  the  simple  hemstitch,  and 
thence  proceed  with  the  more  difficult  de 
signs. 

Draw  six  threads  one  inch  and  an  eightb 
from  the  edge,  on  all  its  four  sides,  and  baste 
the  hem  so  that  it  will  be  a  half-inch  wide. 
Beginning  at  the  left  side  of  doily,  fasten  the 
thread.  Be  sure  the  knot  is  out  of  sight 
Place  the  needle  in  under  five  or  six  threads 
from  right  to  left,  draw  it  through  and  take 
an  ordinary  hemming  stitch  at  the  right  of 
the  threads,  as  in  illustration  No.  i.  A 
practiced  eye  will  not  need  to  count  th<* 
number  of  threads. 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE, 


Draw  out  three  or  four  threads  about  two 
indies  from  the  edge,  the  distance  determin- 
i  tig  the  depth  of  your  fringe ;  then  taking 


No.  2.— For  a  Fringed  Doily. 


Jp  a  group  of  threads,  as  in  illustration  No. 
3,  draw  the  thread,  with  which  you  are 
forking,  down  tightly  under  the  needle 
•point  toward  your  right,  thus  tying  a  firm 


No.  3. 


knot  and  securing  an  edge  which  would 
otherwise  soon  become  loose  and  inelegant, 
|f  it  did  not  ravel  out. 


If  at  first  this  knot  is  a  stumbling  bloc! 
and  looks  clumsy,  console  yourself  by  think- 
ing  that  in  it  is  contained  the  essence  of 
drawn  work,  and  that  when  it  is  once  con 
quered  and  can  be  made  quickly  and  evenly 
and  almost  unconsciously,  what  follows  is 
comparatively  easy.  After  going  around 
your  piece  of  work  with  this  stitch,  begin  a* 
the  inside  to  draw  the  threads  for  your  fringe. 

The  next  step  is  the  preparation  of  our 
work  for  a  narrow  pattern — an  inch  wide*. 


No.  4. 

We  draw  out  threads  for  that  space,  and 
fasten  each  side  with  the  stitch  shown  in 
No.  2.  All  work  ready  for  a  design  to  be 
executed  on  it  must  present  appearance  o! 
No.  3.  Any  uneven  divison  of  threads  will 
cause  confusion  and  a  most  unsatisfactory 
result  Some  of  the  simplest  designs  are 
shown  in  No.  4.  Doubtless  they  are  familiar 
to  every  one,  disagreeably  so,  it  may  be,  for 
their  endless  repetition  row  upon  row,  as  WR 
are  used  to  seeing  them  on  bouffet  scarfs,  7S 


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199 


tiresome  in  the  extreme.  Perhaps  I  shall  be 
able  to  demonstrate  further  on  their  proper 
use  in  setting  off  or  relieving  more  elaborate 
work;  so  you  are  to  take  my  word  for  it 
that  they  come  in  properly  right  here. 

And  now,  if  those  who  have  followed  me 
so  far  wish  to  continue  under  my  leadership, 
rthey  will  not  regret  (if  they  have  fallible 
memories  like  mine)  starting  a  sampler.  I 
have  one — a  strip  of  ecru  niomie  cloth 
about  a  yard  long  and  an  eighth  wide, 
covered  with  patterns.  This  valuable  piece 
of  linen  preserves  for  me  many  ideas  which 
would  otherwise  have  been  lost,  gathered  as 
they  were  in  various  places  at  widely  separ 
ated  times.  Of  its  usefulness  to  others  you 


No.  5. 

may  judge  when  I  tell  you  it  has  traveled 
from  Halifax  to  California,  and  has  been 
photographed  by  some  of  its  admirers  who 
could  not  keep  it  long  enough  to  master  all 
its  details. 

So  then  let  me  urge  you  to  commence  a 
sampler,  and  on  my  word  you  will  never 
regret  so  doing. 

So  far  we  have  gone  without  any  artificial 
aid ;  but  beyond  this  we  cannot  progress 
without  a  frame  of  some  kind  to  hold  our 
work  firmly  in  place.  Those  of  us  who  live 
in  large  cities  can  easily  procure  the  light 
cloth-covered  wooden  frames  sold  for  this 
purpose,  in  the  fancy  goods  stores.  If  these 
are  not  obtainable,  almost  any  hardware 


merchant  or  plumber  will  make,  for  about 
fifteen  cents,  a  good  frame  of  boiler-wire, 
bent  in  shape  with  the  ends  welded  together. 
This  must  be  wound  with  strips  of  cotton 
cloth  torn  straight,  not  cut  bias.  There  is 
yet  another  way:  Anyone  possessing  some 
smooth  strips  of  pine  wood  and  a  little  iii- 
genuity  can  construct  a  frame  as  serviceable, 
perhaps,  as  either  of  the  others.  No  matter 
how  the  result  is  reached  so  that  it  gives  you 
a  firm,  not  too  heavy  cloth-covered  frame, 
half  a  yard  long  by  not  over  eight  inches 
wide.  On  this  is  securely  basted  whatever 
article  is  to  be  decorated. 


No.    6. 


A  word  right  here  about  linen  thread : 
Some  dry  goods  stores  have  two  or  three 
kinds  of  spool-linen — many  more  keep  only 
one  manufacturer's  thread.  If  you  have  thre^ 
together,  it  is  an  easy  task  to  decide  which 
suits  you  best  in  texture  and  color,  but  if 
only  one  kind  is  at  hand,  and  that  proves  in 
using  to  be  harsh,  uneven  or  knotty,  next 
time  try  another  manufacture.  I  hesitate  to 
name  the  thread  I  prefer  myself,  lest  I  seem 
to  discriminate  against  the  others  nearly  as 
good  ;  so  experience  will  be  your  best  guide, 
and  not  a  very  dear  one  with  linen  only  ten 
cents  for  two  hundred  yards ;  and  softness 


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COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


and  evenness  of  finish,  and  harmony  of  color 
will  determine  your  choice. 

And  now  we  enter  upon  a  new  field  of 
study  in  which  one  may  become  hopelessly 
involved  unless  content  to  advance  one  step 
at  a  time.  Supposing  the  work  to  be  care 
fully  basted  on  a  frame  of  some  sort  (a  round 
embroidery  hoop  serves  admirably  for  sam 
ples),  and  a  space  less  than  an  inch  wide 
drawn  out,  the  threads  divided,  with  a 
slender  darning-needle  and  No.  25  thread, 
divide  the  strands  of  your  open  space  into 


No.    7. 

groups  of  four  or  five,  and  knot  them  firmly 
down  the  middle.  This  is  illustrated  by 
thread  a  in  No.  5.  Then  with  a  longer 
thread,  3,  knot  each  strand  of  the  groups 
separately,  crossing  and  recrossing  the  divid 
ing  line  a.  The  thread  c  is  used  exactly  as 
b,  only  that  at  the  intersection  of  the  three 
threads,  another  knot  is  tied.  If  you  wish 
this  knot  to  be  more  conspicuous,  a  deft 
weaving  of  your  thread  in  and  out,  around 
the  centre  will  make  it  so. 

For  No.  6  a  little  wider  space  is  drawn 
Dut,  another  strand  is  added  in  each  group 


and  another  thread  each  side  of  the 
middle  line.  At  the  intersection  of  all  the 
threads,  a  knot  is  tied  as  in  No.  5,  and  the 
wheel  is  made  by  simple  basket-weaving  in 
and  out  around  the  centre  until  the  desired 
size  is  reached. 

In  No.  7  a  yet  wider  space  is  prepared, 
the  limit  being  from  one-and-a-half  inches 
to  two-and-a-half.  Here  each  group  con 
tains  eight  strands,  and  three  threads  are 
used  each  side  of  the  middle.  The  greatei 


No.  8. 

space  is  here  filled  in  with  a  large  wheei 
made  by  back-stitching  round  and  round  the. 
central  knot.  The  success  of  this  wheel 
depends  entirely  upon  the  angle  at  which 
each  line  crosses  the  middle,  and  upon  the 
evenness  of  tension  of  the  radiating  spokes. 
If  these  spokes  of  your  backstitched  wheel 
will  lean,  and  twist  and  curve,  don't  dis* 
hearten  yourself;  fingers  and  eyes  will  do 
better  and  truer  work  every  time. 

No.  8  keeps  still   the   thread   down  the 
middle.     You  don't  know  yet  what  a  help 


HOME  OCCUPATIONS  FOR  LEISURE  HOURS. 


201 


that  dividing  line  has  been  to  you,  nor  will 
you  appreciate  it  until,  as  with  other  bless 
ings,  you  have  to  do  without  it  In  this 
No.  8  we  take  a  still  wider  space  ;  increase 
again  the  number  of  working  threads.  Learn 
a  new  wheel  and  an  altogether  new  design. 
For  this  pattern  the  space  may  be  from  two 
to  four  inches,  the  narrower  being  best  to  prac 
tice  on  and  the  wider  being  used  mostly  for 
showy,  open  drapery.  The  eight  strands  of 
each  group  are  a  very  convenient  number  to 
work  on,  though  sometimes  on  a  material  of 
closer  mesh,  ten  strands  give  the  same  effect. 
For  the  wheel  begin  as  before,  with  a  knot 
at  the  intersection  of  all  the  threads,  and  then 
knot  each  radiating  thread  round  and  round 
the  centre  until  the  space  is  filled.  It  does 
not  at  all  resemble  a  spider's  web  here,  does 
it  ?  Just  try  it  some  time  when  you  have  a 
great,  bare,  square  corner  to  fill,  and  see  then 
how  the  knots  will  dwindle  away  and  the 
spider's  web  appear. 

Now  we  come  to  the  new  design  and  to 
the  end  of  our  second  lesson.  As  you  see 
by  the  illustration,  there  are  eight  converse 
threads  on  each  side  of  the  middle  line.  We 
begin  at  the  centre  and  weave  our  thread  just 
as  one  darns  a  stocking,  in  and  out,  back 
and  forth  through  six  threads  in  two  of  the 
groups,  and  through  three  in  the  other  two 
composing  the  figure.  Less  practice  is  re 
quired  to  become  skillful  in  doing  this,  than 
in  making  any  of  the  wheels ;  and  alternating 
with  the  wheel  in  No.  7,  it  makes  up  one  of 
the  most  popular  patterns  of  drawn  work. 

Has  this  lesson  been  long  and  difficult? 
Learn  it  well,  then,  for  next  time  we  must  do 
without  aids  we  have  had  here  and  depend 
more  and  more  each  one  on  her  own  judg 
ment. 

Going  on  with  our  study  we  reach  the 
point  where  we  must  learn  to  do  without 
the  straight  thread  through  the  middle  of 


our  work.  It  has  been  a  great  help  this 
dividing  line,  for  if  made  right  in  the  first 
place  the  rest  of  the  pattern  could  not  ge 
very  far  askew. 

Perhaps  No.   9  will  be  better  than  any 
other  to   try  first  without  our  old  guide. 
Bach  group  of  six  strands 
is  tied  firmly  in  the  centre, 
as  we  have  learned  before, 
only  on  the  wrong  side  in 
this  case,  and  the  working 
llllllllj  thread  is  carried  up  to  the 
'""'  margin  and  down  to  the 

No' 9>  next  group  to  be  fastenedv 

and  so  on  across  the  frame.  It  might  be 
easier,  after  tying  each  group,  to  cut  off  the 
thread,  but  that  would  leave  raw  ends  which 
would  be  sure  to  show.  There  is  nothing 
else  about  No.  9,  I  think,  that  needs  expla 
nation. 

In  No.  10  we  go  a  step  furthei  and  separ 
ate  the  strands  in  two  places.  It  may  require 
some  practice  to  do  this 
well  and  keep  all  the 
spaces  even,  but  the  ex 
perience  will  be  valuable, 
for  the  design  is  one  upon 
which  may  be  rung  a 
dozen  changes.  By  in 
creasing  the  number  of 
spaces  and  working  threads,  it  can  be  made 
as  wide  as  you  will,  and  this  can  be  said  of 
very  few  other  drawn- work  patterns. 

No.  ii  is  merely  a  modification  of  No.  9, 
the  groups  containing  eight  strands  instead 
of  six,  and   the   working 
threads    crossing    at     one 
point  instead  of  at  right  an 
gles,  as  in  No.  9.     It  is  one 
of  those  patterns  that  look 
well  on  any  material,  and 
may  be  made  almost  any 
NO.  11.          width  not  over  fovu  inches. 


No.  1O. 


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COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


I  would  try  drawing  out  a  space  about 
two  inches  wide  for  a  sample.  You  see  I 
am  taking  it  for  granted  you  have  followed 
my  advice  about  a  sample.  If  I  had  not 
my  own  before  me  as  I  write,  I  should  not 
be  able  to  instruct  you 
at  all ;  for  while  I  might 
still  have  a  dim  and 
general  idea  of  drawn- 
work  and  might  be  able 
to  do  some  pretty,  hap- 
No,  is.  hazard  work,  I  should 
long  since  have  forgotten  the  number  of 
inches  and  knots  and  strands. 

No.  12  brings  us  to  something  more  diffi 
cult,  but  which  amply  repays  any  time  and 
skill  spent  in  learning  it,  as  it  is  the  most 
showy  work  we  have  considered.  It  is 
essentially  a  design  for  light,  open-meshed 
material,  such  as  linen 
scrim,  and  is  never  en 
tirely  satisfactory  on 
heavier  linen.  I  call  No. 
12  showy,  but  it  cannot 
be  made  very  wide,  not 
much  over  two  inches, 
and  is  always  supplement 
ed  by  something  simple  and  narrow  on  each 
side.  The  great  fault  I  find  with  people  who 
try  to  learn  No.  12  is  that  they  are  deter 
mined  to  make  it  wide,  the  effect  is  spoiled 
and  the  pretty  wheel — anything  but  a  wheel. 
But  to  go  back  for  a  little  explanation. 
I  take  for  granted  we  have  a  space  about 
two  inches  drawn  out, 
and  groups  of  eight 
strands  separated  and 
tied  firmly.  Before 
this  we  have  worked  in 
the  space  between  each 
NO.  14.  two  groups,  but  now, 

you  will  see  by  the  illustration,  we  skip  with 
our  working  threads  entirely  over  each  alter- 


nate  group.  No.  12  shows  how  this  is  done. 
Nos.  13  and  14  I  introduce  without  ex 
planation,  just  to  show  you  how  almost  every 
design  is  susceptible  of  endless  variation  ac 
cording  to  the  ingenuity, 
taste  and  fabric  used  by 
each  individual  worker. 
Doubtless  there  are  others 
which  our  readers  would 
wish  added  to  these;  but 
the  scope  of  my  plan  in 
preparing  these  papers,  No.  15. 

only  permits  me  to  give  such  instruction  as 
shall  enable  you  to  copy  other  designs  you 
may  come  across  elsewhere. 

And  now  just  a  word  about  fringes.     The 
manner  of  preparing   work   that   is   to   be 
fringed  out  has  been  described  in  the  first  ot 
these  articles.     No.   15  shows  the   simplest 
kind  of  a  knotted  fringe. 
No.    1 6   a    plain,    woven 
fringe,  and  No.  17  a  popu 
lar    combination    of    the 
two.     If  you  will  use  a 
crochet  needle  to  draw  the 
strands  through  in  weav 
ing  or  knotting,  you  can 
NO.  16.  work  much  more  quickly 

than  without  its  use.  Begin  always  at  the 
right  hand  side  of  your  work,  follow  care 
fully  every  detail  of  the  pattern  you  are 
copying. 

When  you  can  tie  a  row  straight  across 
your  work,  and  can  do  plain  weaving  well, 
then,  but  not  before,  try 
No.  1 8.  In  this  the  fringe 
is  divided  into  groups  of 
eight  strands,  and  each 
group  is  woven  into  a 
square.  Going  back  to 
the  beginning  weave  a 
second  row  of  squares  be 
low  the  first,  and  tie  this  NO.  17 


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203 


No.  18. 


group  into  a  .hard  knot.  That  makes  the 
broken-looking  weaving  just  above  «ach 
tassel.  These  tassels  may  be  long  or  sh  jrt, 
half  a  finger  or  quarter  of  a  yard  in  depth, 
according  to  the  article  they  are  designed  to 
arnainent 

There  are  hundreds  of 
other  fringes,  just  as 
there  are  many  other 
drawn- work  designs.  I 
have  given  these  partic 
ular  patterns  because 
they  seemed  to  me  spe 
cially  useful  to  begin 
ners. 

A  neat  and  serviceable  scarf  for  a  butler's 
tray  may  be  made  of  heavy  butcher's  linen, 
hemstitched  on  its  two  sides  and  fringed  ac 
cording  to  any  one  of  the  above  designs, 

Decalcomanie. 

Beautiful  jars,  vases,  umbrella  holders,  and 
boxes  may  be  made  in  this  favorite  work, 
for  which  scrap  pictures  are  necessary.  It 
requires  taste  to  arrange  these  tastefully,  and 
when  well  gummed,  they  should  be  varn 
ished  to  preserve  them,  and  to  impart  a 
finish.  Potichomanie  requires  glass  for  its 
foundation.  Choose  boxes,  vases,  or  bowls 
of  clear,  flawless  glass.  Cut  and  gum  your 
picture  very  carefully  on  the  vase,  which 
must  then  be  varnished.  Imitate  Chinese, 
Assyrian,  or  Etruscan  vases,  if  you  wish,  but 
do  not  undertake  this  work  in  a  hurry.  Pass 
a  coating  of  gum  over  the  inside  of  the  vase, 
then,  if  the  outside  is  quite  dry,  paint  it  in  oil, 
in  any  color  you  please.  Tall  vases  to  fill  with 
cat-tails,  grasses,  and  clematis,  or  to  stand 
with  a  pot-pourri  inside  shedding,  when 
ever  stirred,  its  faint,  spicy  odor  over  the 
drawing-room,  are  very  important  decora 
tions.  They  have  an  air  about  them  as  who 
should  say,  "We  are  of  very  long  descent 
Our  lineage  dates  back  to  the  cradle  of  civili 


zation.     Egypt  knew  us  in  her  palmy  days, 
and  so  did  Greece  and  Rome." 

"Wax  Flowers. 

Though  three-fourths  of  the  wax  flowers 
made  are  but  clumsy  imitations  of  the  lovely 
blossoms  which  adorn  the  garden,  or  smile 
at  us  from  their  hiding-places  in  the  woods 
and  wayside  fields,  we  need  not  sneer  at  the 
artist  in  wax,  nor  laugh  at  her  handiwork. 
For  there  are  artists  in  wax  flowers  and  fruits 
who  are  so  successful  as  to  almost  cheat  the 
bees  and  the  birds. 

Do  not  be  discouraged  if  your  first  attempts 
are  unsuccessful.  Practice  in  this,  as  in  all 
other  things,  makes  perfect  You  may  have 
to  label  your  productions  to  let  people  know 
what  they  are.  You  may  try  to  make  one 
flower,  and  come  so  near  making  another 
that  your  original  thought  will  be  entirely 
lost  If  you  cannot  rise  above  such  little 
failures  you  will  never  become  an  artist. 

One  advantage  you  have  is  that  your 
model  is  perfect  You  are  not  required  to 
make  any  improvements  upon  nature  ;  you 
have  only  to  imitate,  and  your  lovely  pattern 
is  before  you. 

Practice  will  fit  you  for  reproducing  what 
nature  produced  in  the  first  place,  and  the 
exact  imitation  of  her  work  is  what  you  are 
to  aim  at  Your  models  are  at  hand ;  spring 
and  summer  always  bring  them,  and  you 
have  only  to  go  to  the  garden  or  breezy  field 
to  obtain  your  copy. 

You  are  making  flowers  to  blossom,  leaves 
to  put  on  their  delicate  hues,  lilies  to  clothe 
themselves  in  purest  white,  fuchsias  to  bud 
and  bloom.  To  say  there  is  a  peculiar  fas 
cination  in  this  art  is  only  to  express  what 
has  been  realized  by  nearly  all  who  have 
tried  it  And  when  you  have  succeeded  and 
your  productions  bear  a  close  resemblance 
to  their  original  copies,  your  home  has  beau 
tiful  ornaments. 


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COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


In  order  to  make  a  violet,  a  pond  lily,  or 
a  pansy,  well,  or  to  combine  a  disli  of  plums 
and  grapes  with  the  sun-kissed  peach  and 
the  yellow  pear,  you  must  study  your  origi 
nal  and  work  from  it.  Take  a  real  flower, 
or  a  real  plum  or  peach  as  your  model,  and 
imitate  it  as  closely  as  you  can.  If  at  first 
you  don't  succeed,  try,  try  again,  and  keep 
on  trying  till  you  see  as  the  result  of  your 
efforts,  not  a  clumsy  wooden  affair,  but  some 
thing  that  is  worth  having  and  worth  giving 
away. 

You  do  not  need  a  great  many  tools,  but 
those  you  have  should  be  of  the  best,  and 
should  be  kept  clean  and  neat,  and  by  them 
selves.  Nobody  should  think  it  too  much 
trouble  to  take  good  care  of  her  brushes, 
paints,  and  wax. 

Wax  should  be  kept  in  a  box,  closely  cov 
ered  from  dust,  and  in  a  cool  place.  You 
require  a  brush  for  every  color  you  use, 
strictly  kept  for  that  one  tint.  It  is  well  to 
have  a  separate  brush  for  every  shade.  Your 
sable  pencils  may  be  cleansed  after  using  for 
one  color,  and  employed  in  another. 

Always  use  a  pair  of  scissors  to  cut  out 
your  petals,  and  take  as  your  pattern  the 
flower  you  wish  to  copy. 

In  purchasing  it  is  economy  to  go  to  the 
most  trustworthy  dealers  and  buy  the  very 
best  wax.  You  will  need  white,  cream- 
tinted,  very  pale  green,  smilax,  tea-rose  leaf, 
pale  spring,  and  deep  spring-green  tints  for 
wax,  but  you  need  not  buy  all  these  at  once. 
It  is  necessary  to  purchase  at  first  only  a  very 
few  materials.  In  paints,  both  in  powder 
and  cake,  the  wax-worker  should  have  car 
mine,  chrome-yellow,  burnt  sienna,  burnt 
umber,  Prussian  blue,  indigo,  crimson-lake, 
violet,  carmine,  rose-madder,  French  ultra 
marine,  flake-white,  and  Indian  yellow;  fif 
teen  tinting-brushes,  and  four  sable  pencils ; 
some  modeling  pins,  No.  i  and  3,  wires  cov 


ered  with  silk  for  fine,  and  with  cotton  foa 
coarse  stems ;  a  palette  and  a  palette  knife  j, 
some  best  Bermuda  arrow-root;  green  and 
white  down  for  leaves ;  two  sizes  of  wooden 
molds  for  the  lily  of  the  valley,  and  a  cutter 
for  heliotrope,  and  a  bar  of  India  ink.  This 
is  a  much  larger  outfit  than  the  novice  re 
quires.  If  you  succeed  with  your  work, 
you  will  probably  obtain  it  gradually. 

To  take  the  pattern  of  a  petal,  place  it  on 
white  paper,  and  brush  it  over  with  a  tinting- 
brush.  The  form  of  the  petal  will  be  left 
white  on  the  paper,  and  may  be  cut  out  If 
you  like,  however,  you  may  lay  your  petal 
on  a  piece  of  paper,  and  cut  its  pattern  in 
that  way.  Always  cut  the  petals  with  the 
grain  of  the  wax.  The  fingers  are  excellent 
modeling  tools.  A  few  drops  of  glycerine 
used  on  the  hands  an  hour  or  two  before 
working  makes  them  soft  and  pliant.  Do 
not  work  with  brittle  wax.  To  remove  its 
brittleness,  set  it  awhile  in  a  warm  room,  if 
it  has  been  in  the  cold. 

To  take  a  mold  for  flower  or  fruit,  mix 
some  very  fine  plaster  of  Paris  in  a  bowl 
with  water,  to  the  thickness  of  cream.  Pour 
it  lightly  over  leaf,  or  fruit,  or  bud,  which  it 
is  well  to  place  for  the  purpose  on  a  glass 
slab.  In  about  ten  minutes  the  plaster  will  be 
hardened  sufficiently  to  lift  it  from  the  slab. 
Pare  away  with  a  penknife  any  plaster  that 
may  have  run  over.  Let  the  mold  stay  in 
the  sun,  having  removed  the  leaf  or  bud, 
until  it  has  hardened.  In  twenty-four  hours 
it  will  be  ready  for  a  coat  of  varnish,  which 
must  be  very  thin  indeed. 

"  To  take  the  mold  of  such  a  flower  as  a 
fuchsia  or  an  unopened  bud  ;  oil  it,  pour  you* 
thick  plaster  into  a  paper  form,  and  allow 
the  bud  to  sink  otv  its  side  in  the  plaster. 
Let  it  sink  only  to  the  centre  line,  leaving 
one-half  exposed."  This  direction  is  given 
by  a  teacher  of  expe*ience.  "  Lift  the  mold 


HOME  OCCUPATIONS  FOR  LEISURE  HOURS. 


zoc 


tmt  of  the  plaster  before  it  is  set  too  hard, 
scrape  the  rim  smooth,  and  with  the  point  of 
a  penknife  make  two  little  cavities,  one  at 
the  stem  end,  the  other  at  the  point  where 
the  four  sepals  of  the  calyx  fold,  and  care 
fully  brush  away  any  little  particles  of  plas 
ter  ;  place  this  half  of  the  mold  back  in  the 
paper  form,  and  paint  the  rim,  the  hollow, 
and  the  little  cavities  with  ^.weet  oil ;  place 
the  bud  again  in  the  cast,  and  pour  enough 
plaster  over  the  exposed  part  to  fill  the  paper 
form." 

In  order  to  take  a  Wc,x  mold  from  this, 
dip  it  into  cold  water,  and  pour  melted  wax 
into  one  half;  fit  the  other  half  to  it,  turn 
it  upside  down,  slowly,  and  hold  in  your 
hand  till  it  has  hardened.  On  removing  the 
mold  you  will  have  the  perfect  bud.  If  you 
were  able  before  the  plaster  became  too  firm, 
to  bore  a  little  hole  in  the  mold  at  the  stem 
end,  you  can  slip  the  wire  stem  through  be 
fore  the  wax  hardens. 

Proceed  in  the  same  manner  to  make  molds 
for  fruit,  using  your  judgment  according  to 
shape  and  size. 

A  panel  covered  with  black  velvet,  on 
which  is  fastened  a  dainty  tea-rose  and  bud 
with  a  cluster  of  leaves,  and  this  set  upon  a 
silvered  or  gilted  easel  is  an  ornament  on  any 
table.  A  cross  of  white  pine,  covered  with 
wax  roughly  coated  to  resemble  coral,  the 
whole  wreathed  with  a  passion  vine  and 
flower,  is  a  beautiful  symbol  at  Easter ;  or  a 
cross  of  dark  wood  garlanded  with  leaves  is 
very  lovely.  Exquisite  bouquets  of  apple- 
blossoms,  lilacs,  and  crocuses  may  be  set  in 
slender  vases.  Pond  lilies  look  best  mounted 
on  dark  green  velvet,  and  covered  with  a 
glass  case. 

Wax-flowers  and  fruit  are  very  salable  at 
fairs  and  bazaars,  and  the  lady  who  knows 
how  to  make  them  well,  is  always  sure  of 
presenting  her  favorite  table  with  something 


which  will  make  a  fine  display,  and  bring  in 
a  good  profit  when  disposed  of. 

Phantom  L<eaves. 

Phantom  or  skeleton  leaves  are  the  ghosts 
of  leaves  that  wave  on  the  trees  in  summer. 
They  are  troublesome  to  prepare,  but  are 
very  pretty  when  finished.  Gather  the  leaves 
when  they  are  perfect,  and  then  lay  them  in 
a  large  jar,  filled  with  water.  Leave  them 
there  until  they  decay,  and  the  fleshy  part  of 
the  leaves  is  easily  detached  from  the  frame 
work,  or  what  we  may  call  the  bones.  The 
ethereal,  thread-like  form  of  this  delicate 
veined  work  is  very  beautiful.  Having 
loosened  the  green  part,  bleach  the  remain 
der  by  infusion  in  a  strong  solution  of  soda. 
When  quite  white,  make  bouquets  or  wreaths 
of  different  leaves  in  combination,  and  ar 
range  them  on  a  dark  back-ground,  or  set 
under  glass. 

A  few  Words  about  Gathering  Ferns. 

Many  a  happy  hour  is  passed  by  the  dear 
folks  at  home  in  gathering  and  pressing  ferns 
and  autumn  leaves,  with  which  to  brighten 
the  house  when  winter  winds  are  wild. 

Never  have  too  many  of  these  in  one 
apartment,  for  ornament  should  always  be 
subordinate,  and  never  ought  to  appear  over 
loaded  or  too  profuse.  A  parlor  ought  not 
to  be  smothered  with  either  growing  vines 
or  plants,  nor  should  ferns  and  branches  be 
so  multiplied  as  to  give  a  spotty  effect  to 
walls. 

All  the  young  people  may  help  in  decora 
ting  the  home  with  leaves,  the  girls  pressing 
and  preparing  them,  dipping  the  brilliant 
maple  and  the  somber  oak  foliage  into  thin 
nest  wax,  or  varnishing  it,  or  perhaps  merely 
pressing  it  with  a  half-warm  flat-iron,  and 
the  boys  climbing  the  step-ladder,  and  placing 
the  bright  bunches  and  vivid  festoons  where 
their  sisters  direct. 


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COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


The  fern-gatherer  should  go  to  the  woods 
with  a  long  basket,  the  sides  and  bottom  of 
which  are  lined  with  fresh  leaves.  Lay  the 
ferns  in  this,  and  as  they  wilt  very -quickly, 
cover  them  with  leaves. 

Press  them  immediately  on  arriving  home, 
between  old  newspapers,  or,  if  you  have  it 
handy,  large  sheets  of  blotting-paper.  Large 
old  books  will  answer  if  you  have  them. 
Place  a  layer  of  ferns,  face  down ;  cover 
with  several  thicknesses  of  paper,  on  which 
lay  a  thin,  smooth  piece  of  board.  Cover 
this  with  a  weight  evenly.  Three  or  four 
weeks  will  press  them  perfectly. 

Ferns  and  autumn  leaves  make  a  pretty 
picture  framed  against  a  black  ground.  They 
are  a  substitute  for  a  bouquet  in  winter,  when 
no  plants  are  in  bloom. 

Baskets  and  Wall-Pockets. 

Loosely  plaited  straw  baskets,  lined  with 
satin,  silk,  soft  worsted,  or  even  silesia, 
tied  with  an  immense  bow,  and  ornamented 
(with  artificial  flowers,  or  pressed  ferns,  a 
bunch  of  wheat,  oats,  grass,  or  corn-ears, 
make  charming  wall  pockets.  These  pock 
ets  are  not  only  pretty  in  relieving  the  mo 
notony  of  a  wall,  but  they  are  very  useful, 
enabling  the  neat  housekeeper  to  put  aside 
the  baker's  dozen  of  odds  and  ends  that  ac 
cumulate  in  spite  of  her,  and  assisting  her 
to  live  up  to  that  golden  maxim,  "  A  place. 
for  everything,  and  everything  in  its  place." 

Lace. 

Macrame  lace  is  made  of  cord  and  is  too 
intricate  to  be  learned  without  personal  in 
struction.  It  is  by  no  means  difficult 
when  one  has  the  knack  of  it,  and  is  utilized 
for  the  making  of  pretty  bags  for  shopping, 
and  of  drapery,  to  finish  off  brackets,  or 
lambrequins,  and  add  variety  to  table-covers. 
Finer  laces,  made  of  thread,  and  a  pretty 
lace-like  trimming  of  which  feather-edge 


braid  is  the  foundation,  are  strong,  lasting 
almost  forever,  and  are  very  useful  where 
one  has  many  garments  to  adorn,  but  they 
are,  one  and  all,  exceedingly  trying  to  the 
eyesight. 

White  Embroidery. 

Except  for  the  marking  of  initials  on 
handkerchiefs  or  table  linen,  no  lady  ought 
to  practice  white  embroidery  in  these  days 
of  cheap  Hamburg  edging.  Machinery  ex 
ecutes  such  work  with  a  precision  and  ele 
gance  to  which  few  hands  can  attain,  and 
life  is  too  short  to  be  spent  in  the  slow  set 
ting  of  white  wreaths  and  eyelets  and  but 
ton-holes  and  hem-stitching,  when  daintily 
perfect  work  of  the  same  kind  can  be  bought 
for  a  song, 

Trifles. 

Among  pretty  articles  to  give  one's  broth 
er  or  gentleman  friend,  a  shaving  case  may 
be  mentioned.  Take  a  small  Japanese  paper 
fan,  cover  it  with  silk  or  silesia,  cut  a  piece 
of  pasteboard  the  size  of  the  fan,  and  cover  it 
with  silk  or  satin.  Trim  the  edge  with 
plaited  ribbon,  paint  a  spray  of  flowers  on  it, 
or  paste  a  graceful  picture.  Fasten  paper 
leaves  nicely  pinked  to  the  fan  part,  and 
then  join  the  two  sides  together  finishing 
with  a  bow,  and  a  loop  to  hang  it  by. 

An  embroidered  hat  band,  or  band  to  hold 
a  dinner  napkin  are  pretty  gifts  for  a  gentle 
man. 

A  foot-rest,  worked  on  canvas  in  the  old 
fashioned  cross-stitch,  filled  in,  and  made  up 
by  an  upholsterer  over  a  box  to  contain 
blacking  brushes  and  shoe  polish  is  sure  to 
be  acceptable  to  papa. 

Pretty  little  work-baskets  may  be  made  of 
the  paper  boxes  in  which  one  carries  home 
ice-cream  from  the  confectioners.  Scrap- 
pictures  are  easily  procured  to  ornament 
them.  They  may  be  cozily  lined,  and  fie- 
ished  with  a  bow. 


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207 


Exquisite  little  hair-receivers  are  made  of 
Japanese  umbrellas,  bought  for  three  cents, 
inverted  and  hung  by  a  loop  of  ribbon. 

These  and  many  other  little  things  are  the 
merest  trifles,  but  mother  and  the  girls  have 
good  times  together  while  they  are  tossing 
them  off;  the  foam  of  merry  hours,  when 
good-natured  talk,  gossip  without  a  spice  of 
malice,  and  lively  jests  make  home  the 
blithest  place  in  the  world. 

China  Painting. 

This  is  very  captivating.  Procure  your 
colors  in  tubes,  and  you  will  acquire  a  great 
er  variety  than  you  would  for  either  oil  or 
water-color  painting.  Though  it  is  permit 
ted  to  use  water-color  brushes,  it  is  advisable 
to  have  a  different  set,  and,  if  you  try  both, 
keep  your  tools  separate.  The  colors  most  in 
use  are  black,  white,  gray,  five  shades  of  red, 
two  of  brown,  three  of  green,  four  of  yellow, 
and  two  of  purple.  These  may  be  obtained 
at  any  art-store.  The  tube  colors  are  diluted 
jwith  turpentine.  You  will  require  a  porce 
lain  palette,  a  glass  slab  eight  inches  square, 
several  camel's  hair  brushes  of  different 
sizes,  several  blenders,  a  quart  bottle  of 
spirits  of  turpentine,  a  quart  bottle  of  98  per 
cent,  alcohol,  a  small  bottle  of  oil  of  tur 
pentine,  one  of  oil  of  lavender,  and  one  of 
balsam  of  copaiva.  A  steel  palette  knife, 
and  one  of  horn  or  ivory  ;  a  rest  for  the  hand 
while  painting,  made  of  a  strip  of  wood 
about  an  inch  long  and  twelve  inches  wide, 
supported  at  each  end  by  a  foot,  an  inch  and 
a  half  in  height ;  a  small  glass  muller ;  and 
a  fine  needle  set  in  a  handle  for  removing 
tiny  particles  of  dust. 

Such  an  outfit  will  cost  from  ten  to  twelve 
dollars. 

A  plate,  a  flat  plaque,  or  a  tile  is  best  to 
begin  with.  Let  your  first  design  be  very 
simple.  You  will  learn  by  degrees  how 
to  use  the  colors  which  will  best  stand  the 


firing,  which  is  the  crucial  test.  There  are 
places  in  the  cities  to  which  cups  and  sau 
cers,  vases,  plates,  and  all  china  articles  may 
be  sent  to  be  fired,  few  people  having  th& 
facilities  for  doing  this  in  their  homes.  ., 

Painting  can  be  applied  to  china,  to  velvet, 
to  satin,  to  cloth,  and  to  almost  every  fabric 
and  material  in  use  among  civilized  peoples. 

By  study,careful  watching  of  processes,  at 
tention  to  details,  and  obedience  to  the  di 
rections  of  the  best  manuals,  one  may  learn 
to  paint  creditably  without  a  master.  But 
all  arts  are  rendered  less  difficult  by  a  pains 
taking  teacher,  and  therefore  it  is  well,  if  one 
can,  to  join  a  class. 

A  circle  of  young  people  at  home,  and  3 
few  friends  with  them,  might  club  togethei 
and  engage  the  services  of  a  good  teacher, 
who  would  come  to  them  twice  a  week. 
They  would  find  that  their  rapid  progress 
would  well  repay  them  for  the  time  giveu 
and  money  spent. 

The  Care  of  Pets. 

A  very  engrossing  home  occupation  is 
found  in  the  care  of  pets.  Sometimes,  in 
deed,  the  pets  take  more  of  the  family  atten 
tion  than  outside  friends  approve.  Over~ 
indulged  pets  behave  a  good  deal  like  spoiled 
children.  When  the  parrot  has  his  napkin 
on  the  dinner  table,  and  poising  there,  utterly 
refuses  to  eat  anything  but  a  dainty  morsel 
on  a  guest's  plate,  when  puss  occupies  the 
easiest  chair  and  Ponto  the  sofa,  the  pets  are 
too  daintily  lodged  and  too  much  considered. 

But  every  boy  should  have  some  deaf 
dumb  animals  to  love  and  care  for,  pigeons, 
rabbits,  a  feathered  owl  with  his  wise  phiz, 
a  frolicsome  monkey,  a  darling  chipmunk,  a 
chattering  parrot,  a  faithful  dog,  a  pony,  a 
gentle  Alderney  cow — how  long  is  the  list  ot 
our  four-footed  and  two-footed  friends  in  fur 
or  feathers,  who  serve  us,  amuse  us,  bear  with 
us,  love  us,  mind  us,  and  no  doubt  wondet 


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COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


at  our  queer  vagaries  and  odd  dispositions. 

Pets  should  be  regularly  tended,  kept 
clean  and  comfortable,  given  pleasant  and 
roomy  houses  of  their  own,  fed  plentifully, 
And,  by  gentle  means,  taught  to  obey  their 
masters  and  mistresses.  Well-cared  for,  they 
will  reward  by  the  pleasure  they  give,  and 
sometimes  they  will  manifest  a  kind  and  de 
gree  of  intelligence,  which  might  shame 
some  stupid  bipeds  who  belong  to  our  human 
race. 

Photography. 

To  have  one's  pjjture  taken  used  to  be 
talked  of  as  a  family  event,  in  the  early 
days  before  we  had  found  out  what  a  swift 
and  obliging  miniature  painter  was  our 
friend,  the  sun.  In  these  days  photography 
is  put  to  medical  and  scientific  uses,  and 
helps  nearly  all  the  other  arts. 

An  amateur  photographer's  outfit  is  not 
very  expensive,  and  a  young  man  possessed 
of  any  skill  in  carpentering,  can  easily 
build  himself  a  little  cabin  outdoors,  where 
he  can  keep  his  apparatus  and  chemicals,  and 
obtain  great  popularity  among  the  girls  by 
taking  their  charming  faces  on  tin-types, 
if  not  on  paper. 

Collections. 

A  geological  or  mineralogical  cabinet,  or  a 
fine  collection  of  moths  and  butterflies,  is  a 
never  ending  source  of  pleasure  and  profit 
to  the  young  student  of  natural  history.  No 
matron,  however  neat,  should  object  if  her 
sons,  bent  on  botany  and  geology,  bring 
weeds  and  stones  into  the  house  for  classifi 
cation.  A  boy  must  have  elbow-room.  He 
will  be  the  better  man,  the  larger  every  way, 
and  very  likely  the  more  affectionate  son, 
brother,  and,  after  a  time,  husband,  if  he  is 
allowed  to  feel  that  his  tastes  are  of  some  ac 
count,  and  that  he  may  have  sufficient  space 
in  the  house  to  indulge  them. 

A  hobby  sometimes  grows  tiresome   to 


others,  if  ridden  too  constantly.  But  if 
Emily  has  her  painting,  Louisa  her  music, 
Alice  her  books,  Nanette  her  pretty  dresses, 
and  Lucille  her  housekeeping,  why  shall  not 
Ned  go  poking  among  the  rocks  with  his 
bag  and  little  mallet,  always  making  won 
derful  discoveries,  and  Rex  prepare  lures  for 
the  moths,  and  sally  out  with  box  and  net 
for  beetles  and  butterflies,  and  Tom  take 
photographs,  and  Hugh  collect  stamps  and 
postmarks.  In  the  ideal  home  there  is  lib 
erty  to  indulge  the  individual,  so  that  each 
person  may  be  developed  symmetrically,  and 
the  happiness  of  all  be  insured. 
Chisel  and  Plane. 

Change  of  work  is  often  the  best  way  or 
resting.  A  young  man,  occupied  in  a  store 
or  the  counting-room,  and  using  one  set  of 
faculties  exclusively,  has  a  great  advantage 
over  his  companion  who  doesn't  know  what 
to  do  with  himself  out  of  business  hours,  if 
he  has  a  turn  for  carpentering. 

Such  a  youth  can  do  wonders,  if  the  ladies 
help  him,  with  old  furniture.  There  is  a 
discarded  sofa  in  the  attic ;  it  began  life  in 
the  drawing-room,  in  great  pride  and  honor; 
went  from  there  to  the  dining-room,  in  the 
course  of  time  was  taken  to  the  privacy  of  a 
bedroom,  and  at  last,  being  scorned  as  a 
miracle  of  ugliness,  was  packed  off  to  the 
obscurity  of  old  lumber.  But  Arthur  and 
Susie,  with  new  springs  and  stuffing,  gay 
covering,  varnish,  and  brass-headed  nails, 
renew  the  despised  article,  and  it  is  restored 
to  its  former  glory,  and  becomes  the  family 
boast. 

Bookcases,  only  tolerable  where  people  use 
and  love  their  books,  may  be  made  by  the 
handy  young  man,  who  thinks  nothing  of 
undertaking  a  set  of  portable  shelves,  their 
edges  finished  with  a  band  of  bright  morocco, 
deep  enough  to  shield  the  precious  volumes 
from  dust. 


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209 


It  takes  a  great  deal  of  tinkering  to  keep 
house,  grounds,  fences,  and  gates  in  that 
state  of  perfect  repair  which  indicates  the 
highest  thrift.  If  Charlie  has  tools  and  knows 
how  to  use  them,  then,  when  a  shutter  is  awry, 
or  a  sash-cord  breaks,  or  a  door  cjeaks,  or  a 
gate  hangs  badly,  he  attends  to  it  at  once, 
and  the  neighbors  admire  the  manner  in 
which  the  folks  at  Charlie's  keep  things  up. 
Fret-Sawing-,  Wood-Carving-. 

Wood-carving  and  fret-sawing  is  often  left 
as  a  home  occupation  for  the  boys,  but  it  is 
not  exclusively  theirs.  Panels,  easels,  brack 
ets,  boxes,  frames,  and  the  various  pretty 
carved  articles  for  the  table  in  which  the 
ladies  delight,  may  be  made  by  both  broth 
ers  and  sisters. 

The  amateur  wood-carver  must  be  provi 
ded  with  a  strong  deal  table,  which  should 
stand  in  a  good  light.  He  must  have  three 
chisels  of  different  sizes,  one  an  eighth  of  an 
inch  wide,  the  others  a  quarter  and  a  half 
inch  wide.  These  should  be  ground  rather 
slantingly.  An  oil-stone  to  set  the  edges,  a 
number  of  gouges,  which  are  chisels  of  a 
different  pattern,  a  supply  of  wood — a  bit  of 
smooth  pine  or  an  old  cigar-box  will  do — 
are  all  that  are  indispensable  at  first. 

Try  some  simple  leaf,  with  very  few  inden 
tations  at  first.  Draw  it  on  paper,  the  back 
of  which  is  rubbed  with  red  chalk  ;  pin  this 
on  the  board,  and  press  over  it  a  bodkin  or 
crochet-needle,  and  when  lifted  the  outline 
will  be  found  on  the  wood.  Next  stab  out  your 
outline,  either  with  a  chisel  or  with  a  little 
wheel,  a  notched  instrument  which  is  very 
easy  to  manage. 

In  cutting  away  the  wood,  the  chisel  should 
be  held  in  the  right  hand,  the  wrist  of  the  left 
hand  being  held  firmly  on  the  panel,  and  the 
tool  guided  by  the  forefinger  of  the  left  hand. 
Begin  to  cut  out  the  wood  at  some  distance 
from  the  outline,  shaving  gradually  to  it. 


Do  everything  very  neatly,  and  without 
haste.  Leave  no  litter  about  when  you  are 
done.  Be  sure  to  cut  thoroughly,  not  dig 
ging  or  tearing  away  the  wood. 

The  fret-saw  consists  of  a  frame  with  a  cross 
bar  and  two  side  pieces.  There  are  hand 
saws,  and  there  are  foot-power  saws  worked 
by  treadles.  The  pattern  must  always  be 
outlined  first,  and  the  operator  must  not 
hurry.  The  cost  of  a  good  fret-saw  is  from  * 
$i  to  $5,  according  to  size.  Full  direc 
tions  accompany  the  machines. 

A  lad  who  is  ambitious  may  make  a  good 
deal  of  pocket-money  by  selling  the  pretty 
articles  he  turns  out  from  his  fret-saw. 
Wood-carving  is  much  used  in  house-build 
ing,  and  railings,  shelves,  and  cornices  may 
be  made  for  the  new  home,  if  the  family  are 
to  have  one,  by  the  cunning  hands  of  the 
sons  and  daughters. 

Amateur  Printing. 

There  is  still  another  fascinating  pastime1 
for  young  gentlemen,  and  one  which  effec 
tually  keeps  them  removed  from  outside 
temptation,  and  that  is  the  printing-press. 
Many  a  little  fellow's  highest  ambition  is 
gratified  when  he  is  able  to  print  visiting 
cards  for  his  rriends  among  the  ladies,  and 
circulars  for  his  business  acquaintances.  The 
number  of  amateur  newspapers  edited,  com 
posed,  set  up,  and  passed  through  the  press 
by  boys  on  their  small  presses  is  very  much 
larger  than  the  uninitiated  suppose. 

"  Art  is  long  and  time  is  fleeting."  Change 
and  vicissitude  come  to  us  all.  The  fledg 
lings  find  their  wings  and  fly  from  the  home 
nest.  While  they  are  still  there,  i{  Is  good 
economy  to  make  the  nest  so  cozy,  and  to  so 
fill  the  air  with  song  and  sweetness,  that 
every  memory  of  the  dear  place  in  all  coming 
days  shall  vibrate  to  the  air  of  "Home,  Sweet 
Home." 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


Our  grandmothers  did  not  think  their 
kouse  furnishing  complete  without  screens. 
These  are  useful  for  breaking  off  the  heat 
where  there  is  an  open  grate,  and  for  plac 
ing  near  a  door  often  opened,  to  prevent  a 
draft  Screens  are  again  coming  into  fashion. 
Feather  Screens. 

To  make  a  screen,  begin  as  follows :  Mould 
a  piece  of  wire  into  the  shape  of  a  heart,  and 
cover  this,  by  means  of  a  needle  and  thread, 
with  dark  colored  gauze  or  tarlatane.  Round 
the  edge  of  this  frame  fasten  a  row  of  pea 
cocks'  feathers  with  gum.  A  very  little  gum 
put  under  the  quills,  and  left  to  dry  with  a 
weight  on  them,  will  make  them  easily 
adhere.  Place  a  second  row  of  feathers,  so 
that  the  eyes  of  them  come  just  between 
those  of  the  first  row.  Next  make  another 
frame  in  the  same  manner  as  before,  only  let 
the  edge  of  it  only  extend  as  far  as  the  quills 
of  the  second  row  of  feathers.  Border  this 
with  the  side  fringe  feathers  of  the  peacock's 
tail,  and  then  dispose  of  some  red  ones  at  the 
top,  or  any  kind  fancy  may  dictate  or  you 
possess,  finishing  off  with  a  bunch  of  gray 
fluff  feathers,  or  a  knot  of  crimson  ribbon 
and  a  gilt  handle.  For  the  back,  cut  a  piece 
of  card-board  the  exact  shape  and  size  of  the 
foundation  of  the  screen,  cover  it  with  crim 
son  silk,  and  gum  on  behind.  Another  even 


prettier  screen  is  made  as  follows,  both  sides 
alike: 

Prepare  a  frame — circular  in  shape — as 
before,  edge  it  thickly  all  around,  by  means 
of  a  needle  and  thread,  with  the  fringe  feath 
ers  of  the  peacock's  tail.  Then  put  altern 
ately  in  the  six  spaces,  between  the  points  of 
the  star,  rows  of  the  small  brown,  gold  and 
green  feathers  from  the  neck  and  back  of 
the  bird.  Cut  out  a  star  in  card-board,  edge 
it  on  each  side  with  a  small  red  feather,  and 
cover  the  whole  of  the  rest — by  means  of 
gum — one  close  over  the  other,  with  the 
bright  blue  feathers  from  the  peacock's  breast 
Cut  out  a  small  circle  in  card-board,  which 
edge  with  a  row  of  canary  bird  or  any  dyed 
yellow  feathers,  letting  the  centre  be  scarlet 
On  this  a  gold  monogram  in  repousse  work 
may  be  placed.  A  gilt  handle  and  knot  of 
ribbon  completes  so  elegant  a  fan  that  one 
made  for  a  wedding  present  was  supposed  to 
be  the  finest  Brazilian  work. 

Mats  made  of  cloth  or  straw  are  very  pretty 
with  a  border  of  feathers.  These  -^ay  also 
be  utilized  for  trimmings  of  hats,  mufls,  or 
jackets,  particularly  pheasants'  and  pea-fowls'. 
Trimmings  are  made  by  sewing  the  feathers 
on  in  rows  of  three  and  two,  or  three  and 
four,  one  over  the  other,  on  a  narrow  ribbon 
of  the  same  color. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 


How  to  Make  Home  Cheerful ;    Entertainment  for  Young 
and  Old ;  Amusements  and  Pastimes. 


T  MERRY  CHRISTMAS-TIME,  or 
on  a  wet  day  in  the  country,  or 
in  the  city  too,  for  that  matter,  or 
on  a  winter's  evening,  when  the  lampS4  are 
lighted,  young  folks  are  often  at  a  loss,  and 
their  elders  too,  sometimes,  to  know  how  to 
amuse  themselves.  Some  people  will  say, 
There  are  books,  let  them  read.  We  would 
whisper  in  their  ears  an  adage  as  old  as  the 
hills,  but  none  the  less  true  or  pithy  ;  it  is 
this :  "  All  work  and  no  play  makes  Jack  a 
dull  boy."  And  again,  let  us  remember  that 
we  also  were  once  young,  and  laughed 
as  heartily  over  "  Blind  Man's  Buff"  as  the 
youngest  of  our  acquaintance. 

All  the  apparatus  required  in  "  Home 
Pastimes  "  is  good  temper,  good  spirits,  and 
gentleness,  so  that  at  any  moment  amuse 
ment  for  an  evening  can  be  obtained  by 
anybody  who  wills  it 

We  do  not  wish  to  read  our  young  friends 
a  homily  upon  politeness,  but  we  would  im 
press  upon  them  that  good  temper  is  indis 
pensable  in  games  of  any  kind.  We  have 
known  the  pleasure  of  a  whole  party  marred 
simply  by  the  unreasonableness  and  ill-humor 
of  one  of  the  players,  who,  because  he  could 
not  guess  the  answer  of  some  game,  declared 
that  we  had  cheated  him,  and  refused  to  play 
any  longer,  thus  casting  a  gloom  upon  all 
who  were  playing. 

Roughness,  too,  we  would  particularly 
caution  our  boy  friends  to  avoid.  Very  often, 
when  carried  away  by  the  buoyancy  of  their 
spirits,  they  are  apt  to  forget  that  young 
ladies  are  present,  and  participating  in  the 


pleasures  of  the  game.  There  is  no  occasion 
for  an  exhibition  of  strength;  if  you  are 
caught,  submit  to  it ;  if  you  are  forfeited,  pay 
the  fine  without  a  murmur,  or  with  a  pleas 
ant  remark. 

Very  often  your  little  brothers  or  sisters 
will  spoil  a  game  by  revealing  who  it  is  that 
is  caught,  or  telling  the  answer  to  "Twenty 
Questions,"  before  the  person  whose  turn  it 
is  to  guess  it,  has  given  it  up.  Do  not 
be  angry  with  them,  but  take  another 
question,  and  begin  again,  for  in  all  proba 
bility  letting  the  secret  out  was  merely  child 
ish  importance,  in  knowing  the  answer  as 
well  as  his  elder  brothers  and  sisters.  Ex 
plain  to  him  that  he  must  not  do  so  for  the 
future,  as  he  spoils  the  game  ;  and,  take  our 
word  for  it,  he  will  try  to  avoid  doing  so 
again. 

We  have  heard  many  people  say,  "  Oh,  he's 
too  young,  he  can't  play."  We  say,  not  so  ; 
no  child  is  too  young  to  join  in  healthy  and 
innocent  pastime.  There  is  no  occasion  to 
give  a  child  a  prominent  part  to  perform,  or 
to  let  him  perform  any  part  at  all ;  but  you 
can  lead  him  to  believe  that  his  presence  is 
in  every  way  as  desirable  as  that  of  the  old 
est  person  present. 

Many  of  these  games  are  quite  new,  and 
have  never  appeared  in  print  before.  With 
these  remarks  we  leave  our  readers  to  enjoy 
themselves  over  Home  Pastimes. 

The  Game  of  Earth,  Air,  Fire,  and  Water. 

In  this  game  the  party  sit  in  a  circle ;  one 
throws  a  handkerchief  at  another,  and  calk 

Ml 


212 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


out  Air!  The  person  whom  the  handkerchief 
hits  must  call  Eagle,  Vulture,  Lark,  Sea- 
Mew,  Partridge,  Woodcock,  Snipe,  or  some 
other  bird  belonging  to  the  air,  before  the 
caller  can  count  ten,  which  he  does  in  a  loud 
voice,  and  as  ^s_  as  possible.  If  a  creature 
who  does  not  live  in  the  air  is  named,  or  if 
the  person  fails  to  speak  quick  enough,  a  for 
feit  must  be  paid.  The  person  who  catches 
the  handkerchief  throws  it  to  another,  in 
turn,  and  calls  out  Earth!  The  person  who 
is  hit  must  call  out  Elephant,  Horse,  Dog, 
Cat,  Mouse,  Guinea  Pig,  Ox,  or  any  other 
creature  which  lives  upon  the  earth,  in  the 
same  space  of  time  as  allowed  before.  Then 
throw  the  handkerchief  to  another,  and  call 
out  Water!  The  one  who  catches  the  hand 
kerchief  observes  the  same  rules  as  the  pre 
ceding,  and  is  liable  to  the  same  forfeits,  un 
less  they  call  out  immediately,  Trout,  Mack 
erel,  Herring,  Cod,  or  the  name  of  some  fish 
that  lives  in  the  water.  Any  one  who  mentions 
a  bird,  beast,  or  fish  twice  is  likewise  liable 
to  a  forfeit.  If  any  player  calls  FireJ  every 
one  must  keep  silence,  because  no  creature 
lives  in  that  element. 

The  Game  of  the  Huntsman. 

This  game  is  one  of  the  liveliest  winter 
evening's  pastimes  that  can  be  imagined.  It 
may  be  played  by  any  number  of  persons 
above  four.  One  of  the  players  is  styled  the 
"  Huntsman,"  and  the  others  must  be  called 
after  the  different  parts  of  the  dress  or  ac 
coutrements  of  a  sportsman  :  thus,  one  is  the 
coat,  another  the  hat,  whilst  the  shot,  shot- 
belt,  powder,  powder-flask,  dog,  and  gun, 
and  every  other  appurtenance  belonging  to 
a  huntsman,  has  its  representative.  As  many 
chairs  as  there  are  players,  excluding  the 
huntsman,  should  next  be  ranged  into  two 
rows,  back  to  back,  and  all  the  players  must 
then  seat  themselves ;  and  being  thus  pre 
pared,  the  huntsman  walks  round  the  sitters, 


and  calls  out  the  assumed  name  of  one  of 
them  ;  for  instance,  "  Gun ! "  when  that 
player  immediately  gets  up,  and  takes  hold 
of  the  coat  skirts  of  the  huntsman,  who  con 
tinues  his  walk,  and  calls  out  the  others  one 
by  one.  Each  must  take  hold  of  the  skirts 
of  the  player  before  him,  and  when  they  are 
all  summoned,  the  huntsman  sets  off  running 
round  the  chairs  as  fast  as  he  can,  the  other 
players  holding  on  and  running  after  him. 
When  he  has  run  round  two  or  three  times, 
he  shouts  out "  Bang !  "  and  immediately  sits 
down  on  one  of  the  chairs,  leaving  his  fol 
lowers  to  scramble  to  the  other  seats  as  they 
best  can.  Of  course  one  must  be  left  stand 
ing,  there  being  one  chair  less  than  the 
number  of  players,  and  the  player  so  left 
must  pay  a  forfeit.  The  huntsman  is  not 
changed  throughout  the  game  unless  he  gets 
tired  of  his  post 

The  Acrostic  Sale. 

This  is  an  excellent  game  for  young  per 
sons,  stimulating  their  inventive  talents,  and 
is  a  good  exercise  in  spelling.  The  person 
who  opens  the  game  announces  that  he  has 
just  returned  from  the  city,  where  he  pur 
chased  an  article,  which  he  names,  the  name 
containing  just  as  many  letters  as  the  num 
ber  of  the  company  assembled  to  play  the 
game.  He  further  states,  that  he  is  willing 
to  barter  the  article  for  as  many  other  articles 
as  the  company,  excluding  himself,  number  ; 
but  the  initial  letter  of  each  article  offered 
must  be  in  regular  succession  the  letters 
composing  the  article  bartered.  Furnished 
with  a  pencil  and  paper,  the  seller 
notes  down  the  offers  of  the  buyers,  and 
when  correctly  completed,  he  reads  them 
aloud  ;  and,  in  an  affected,  pompous  manner, 
though  quite  impromptu,  declares  what  he 
intends  to  do  with  the  articles  thus  acquired. 
For  example,  in  a  company  composed  of 
eleven  persons,  the  seller  says : — 


HOME  PASTIMES  AND  AMUSEMENTS. 


213 


"I  have  just  returned  from  the  city,  where 
I  purchased  a  pianoforte,  but  I  wish  to  bar 
ter  it — speaking  to  the  first  person — what 
will  you  give  for  the  first  letter,  P?"  The 
first  person  and  the  other  nine,  make  conse 
cutively  their  offers,  and  the  seller  carefully 
records  them,  after  which  he  says  : — 
"  You  propose  to  barter  for  my 

P  a  Pen.  F  a  Fan. 

I    an  Inkbottle.  O  an  Oar. 

A  an  Anchor.  R  a  Ruby. 

N  a  Newspaper.  T  a  Teacup. 

O  an  Orchard.  E  an  Evergreen. 

"  I  accept  the  offer,  and  this  is  the  way  I 
intend  to  use  articles  so  acquired. 

"  The  Ruby  I  will  have  mounted  in  a  ring, 
and  will  ever  treasure  it  in  remembrance  of 
the  donor.  The  Fan  I  will  present  to  a  cer 
tain  lady,  who,  at  present,  shall  be  nameless. 
Then  I  will  ride  into  the  country,  where, 
sitting  in  my  Orchard,  I  will  read  my  News 
paper,  and  with  my  Pen  and  Inkbottle,  write 
letters  to  you,  my  dear  friends,  from  whose 
agreeable  society  I  shall  then  be  absent. 
When  tired  of  writing,  I  will  proceed  to  the 
river,  where,  with  my  Oar,  I  will  row  on  the 
water  till  evening,  then  Anchor  the  boat ; 
and,  after  taking  tea  from  my  Teacup,  will 
go  into  the  garden,  and  superintend  the 
planting  my  Evergreen" 

This  relation  being  terminated,  the  ten 
other  players  become  the  sellers  of  various 
articles  in  the  same  manner.  Forfeits  are 
levied  when  articles  are  offered  for  sale  con 
taining  more  or  less  letters  than  the  number 
of  purchasers,  or  for  any  error  in  the  spelling 
of  the  articles  offered  in  exchange. 
The  Trades. — A  Game  of  Pantomime. 

Each  one  of  the  company  chooses  a  trade, 
which  he  exercises  in  the  following  manner : 
The  shoemaker  mends  shoes. 
The  washerwoman  washes  clothes. 
The  painter  paints  a  portrait. 
The  cook  kneads  the  bread. 


The  locksmith  hammers  upon  an  anvil. 

The  spinner  turns  her  wheel,  etc.,  etc., 
etc. 

One  of  the  players  acts  as  king  or  queen, 
and  commences  the  game  by  working  at  his 
own  trade.  In  the  meanwhile  all  the  others 
must  make  the  movements  appropriate 
to  theirs.  If  the  king  suddenly  changes  his 
trade,  and  takes  up  that  of  one  of  the  com 
pany,  all  the  rest  must  remain  inactive  except 
the  player  whom  the  king  is  imitating,  and 
he  must  at  once  take  up  the  king's  trade, 
until  the  latter  is  pleased  to  adopt  another ; 
then  that  player  in  his  turn  takes  the  king's 
trade,  and  all  the  rest  remain  idle  until  the 
king  returns  to  his  original  trade,  which  is 
the  signal  for  all  present  to  recommence 
their  own. 

If  any  one  of  the  company  makes  a  mistake 
he  pays  a  forfeit. 

The  Fickle  Musician. 

This  game  is  but  a  variation  of  the  pre 
ceding  one,  and  is  thought  to  be  more  enter 
taining. 

All  the  company  form  a  circle  in  the 
apartment.  The  person  who  leads  the  game 
takes  his  place  in  that  part  of  the  circle 
where  he  is  most  easily  visible  to  all.  When 
the  other  players  have  each  chosen  their  trades, 
they  must  perform  the  gestures  suited  to 
them  to  the  best  of  their  ability — for  exam 
ple,  the  writer  by  writing  and  folding  a 
letter,  the  painter  by  sketching  upon  the 
wall,  and  so  on. 

Then  he  who  leads  the  game  moves  his 
fingers  as  if  playing  upon  the  flageolet,  and 
may  if  he  chooses  at  the  same  time  sing 
some  well  known  song. 

As  soon  as  he  ceases  and  takes  up  the 
trade  of  one  of  the  players,  the  latter  must 
play  the  flageolet  in  his  turn,  moving  his 
fingers  as  if  he  had  the  instrument  in  his 
hand,  without  however  being  obliged  to 


214 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


sing,  but  when  the  leader  of  the  game  re 
sumes  the  flageolet,  or  takes  up  the  trade  of 
another  of  the  players,  he  who  is  playing 
the  flageolet  must  at  once  turn  to  his  own 
trade ;  if  he  fails  to  do  so  he  pays  a  forfeit  to 
the  leader  of  the  game. 

It  is  evident  that  this  game  requires  much 
attention,  for  when  the  leader  of  the  game 
possesses  address  and  quickness,  it  is  in  his 
power  to  obtain  a  great  many  forfeits. 
The  Echo. 

This  game  is  played  by  reciting  some  lit 
tle  story,  which  Echo  is  supposed  to  inter 
rupt,  whenever  the  narrator  pronounces  cer 
tain  words  which  recur  frequently  in  his  nar 
rative.  These  words  relate  to  the  profession 
or  trade  of  him  who  is  the  subject  of  the 
story.  If,  for  example,  the  story  is  about  a 
soldier,  the  words  which  would  recur  the 
oftenest  would  be  those  which  relate  to  mili 
tary  apparel — such  as  the  uniform,  ^as.  gaiters, 
the  musket,  the  sabre,  the  scabbard,  the  bay 
onet,  the  knapsack,  the  cap,  the  plume,  the 
pouch,  the  powder  flask,  and  accoutrements. 

Each  one  of  the  company,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  the  person  who  tells  the  story, 
takes  the  name  of  soldier,  uniform,  gaiters, 
etc.,  etc.,  except  accoutrements,  which  word 
comprises  all  these  objects  in  general.  When 
ihe  speaker  pronounces  one  of  these  words, 
lie  who  has  taken  it  for  his  name,  ought,  if 
the  word  has  been  said  only  once,  to  pro 
nounce  it  twice  ;  if  it  has  been  said  twice  to 
pronounce  it  once ;  when  the  word  accoutre 
ments  is  uttered,  all  the  players,  except  the 
soldier,  ought  to  repeat  together  the  word 
accoutrements,  either  once  or  twice,  as  di 
rected  above. 

EXAMPLE. 

A  brave  soldier,  soldier  (soldier)  received 
one  morning  orders  to  inarch.  Too  regard 
ful  of  fris  duty  to  subject  himself  to  blame, 
he  at  once  opened  his  knapsack  (knapsack, 


knapsack],  from  which  he  drew  out  a  pair  of 
bran  new  gaiters  (gaiters,  gaiters),  he  put  on 
his  uniform,  uniform  (uniform},  took  his 
sabre  (sabre,  sabre],  his  pouch,  pouch  (pouch], 
his  musket  (musket,  musket],  armed  himself 
with  his  bayonet,  bayonet  (bayonet},  and, 
placing  his  cap  (cap,  cap)  upon  his  heady 
after  having  well  dusted  the  plume,  plume 
(plume],  he  gaily  descended  the  stairs  to  bid 
adieu  to  his  hostess,  and  set  out  for  the  army 
without  forgetting  any  of  his  accoutrements 
(all,  except  the  soldier,  accoutrements,  accou 
trements}. 

When  he  had  gone  about  three  miles,  he 
was  so  tired  that  he  was  obliged  to  stop  for 
a  moment,  in  a  wood  through  which  he  had 
to  pass ;  at  the  foot  of  an  oak  he  found  a 
seat  of  moss,  very  convenient  for  him  to  re 
pose  upon,  and  leaving  his  musket  (musket, 
musket)  against  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  he  sat 
down  and  soon  fell  asleep.  He  had  not 
slumbered  long  when  piercing-  cries  awaked 
him.  He  at  once  seized  his  musket,  musket 
(musket},  and  ran  with  all  speed  towards  the 
place  whence  the  cries  seemed  to  come. 
What  a  spectacle !  Four  ruffians  were  drag 
ging  off  a  young  woman,  to  whom  they  ad 
dressed  insulting  epithets,  as  she  struggled 
in  their  grasp.  At  first  the  soldier,  soldier 
(soldier],  takes  aim  with  his  musket  (musket, 
musket],  but  the  young  woman  struggled  so 
violently  that  he  was  fearful  of  wounding 
her  in  his  attempt  to  render  her  assistance. 
Nothing  remained  for  him  to  do  but  to  re 
sort  to  another  weapon,  his  sabre,  sabre 
(sabre),  and  his  bayonet  (bayonet,  bayonet}. 
"  Stop,  ruffians  1"  he  cried.  The  bandits  see 
ing  that  they  had  only  to  deal  with  one 
man,  divide  into  two  parties ;  two  of  them 
secure  the  woman,  while  the  other  two  ad-, 
vance  to  attack  the  soldier,  soldier  (soldier).\ 
The  latter  takes  advantage  of  the  moment, 
when,  without  danger  to  the  lady,  he  can  use  his 


HOME  PASTIMES  AND  AMUSEMENTS. 


215 


other  weapon,  and  brings  to  the  ground  one  of 
his  assailants,  by  a  shot  from  his  musket  (mus 
ket,  musket}.  The  other,  to  avenge  his  com 
rade,  discharges  a  pistol,  which  pierces  the 
cap  (cap,  cap}  of  the  soldier,  soldier  (soldier)) 
without  wounding  him.  The  latter  attacks 
him  with  the  bayonet  (bayonet,  bayonet},  and 
Stretches  him  upon  the  ground  beside  his 
comrade.  At  sight  of  this,  the  two  others 
set  the  woman  at  liberty  and  take  to  flight. 
The  brave  soldier  (soldier,  soldier}  casts  upon 
the  ground  his  knapsack,  uniform,  gun» 
pouch  and  cap  (repeat  each  of  these  words 
twice)  in  less  than  a  second.  "  Take  care  of 
my  accoutrements"  (all:  accoutrements,  ac 
coutrements},  he  says  to  the  woman,  and 
with  his  drawn  sabre  (sabre,  sabre}  in  his 
hand,  he  flies  in  pursuit  of  the  bandits.  One 
of  them  stumbles  over  the  root  of  a  tree  and 
falls ;  the  soldier,  soldier  (soldier),  without 
stopping  for  a  moment,  strikes  him  with  his 
sabre  (sabre,  sabre),  upon  the  head,  and  then 
hastens  after  the  fourth  brigand,  whom  he 
overtakes  and  fells  to  the  ground.  He  then 
returns  to  the  spot  where  he  had  thrown 
down  his  accoutrements  (accoutrements,  ac 
coutrements)  that  he  might  run  the  faster; 
woman,  knapsack,  musket,  pouch,  cap  (re 
peat  twice  each  word),  all  had  disappeared,  as 
well  as  the  two  ruffians  whom  he  had  first 
wounded ;  nothing  was  left  to  him  but  his 
gaiters  (gaiters,  gaiters}  and  sabre,  sabre 
(sabre},  without  the  scabbard  (scabbard,  scab 
bard},  and  he  was  obliged  to  repair  to  the 
nearest  magistrate  to  make  a  deposition  of 
the  facts,  and  complete  his  accoutrements 
(all :  accoutrements,  accoutrements). 

This  story  may  serve  as  a  model  for  an  in 
finite  number  of  others.  The  narrator  must 
be  careful  to  require  forfeits  from  those  who, 
carried  away  by  the  interest  of  the  tale,  for 
get  to  perform  the  part  of  ECHO,  or  who  fail 
to  do  so  the  requisite  number  of  times. 


How  Do  You  Like  It  ? 

This  is  an  excellent  and  very  amusing 
game  for  winter-evening  parties.  It  may  be 
played  by  any  number  of  persons.  The  com 
pany  being  seated,  one  of  the  party,  called 
the  Stock,  is  sent  out  of  the  room,  and  the 
company  then  agree  upon  some  word  which 
will  bear  more  than  one  meaning.  When  the 
Stock  comes  back,  he  or  she  asks  each  of  the 
company  in  succession,  "How  do  you  like 
it?  'J  One  answers,  "  I  like  it  hot ;"  another, 
"  I  like  it  cold  ; "  another,  "  I  like  it  old ; " 
another,  "  I  like  it  new."  He  then  asks  the 
company  in  succession,  again,  "  When  do  you 
like  it?"  One  says,  "At  all  times ;"  another, 
"Very  seldom;"  a  third,  "At  dinner;"  a 
fourth,  "  On  the  water ; "  a  fifth,  "  On  the 
land,"  etc.  Lastly  the  Stock  goes  round  and 
asks,  "Where  would  you  put  it?"  One 
says,  "I  would  put  it  up  the  chimney;" 
another,  "I  would  throw  it  down  a  well;" 
a  third,  "I  would  hang  it  on  tree;"  a 
fourth,  "I  would  put  it  in  a  pudding." 
From  these  answers,  a  witty  girl  may  guess 
the  word  chosen ;  but,  should  she  be  unable 
to  do  so,  she  has  to  pay  a  forfeit.  Many 
words  might  be  chosen  for  the  game,  such 
as — 

Aunt  and  ant          Rain  and  rein. 

Plane  and  plain.       Vice,  a  tool ;  and  vice, 

a  crime. 
Key,  of  a  door  ;  and  quay,  a  place  for  ships. 

Twirl  the  Trencher. 

A  wooden  platter  or  a  plate  is  brought  in, 
and  given  to  a  person  who  is  to  be  the  leader. 
The  leader  then  takes  a  name  himself,  and 
gives  a  name  to  each  of  the  company.  Num 
bers  will  do,  or  the  Christian  or  familiar 
names  by  which  they  are  usually  known,  or 
the  names  of  animals  or  flowers  may  be 
adopted.  Each  person  must  be  sharp  enough 
to  remember  his  or  her  name  directly  it  is 
mentioned.  Each  person  has  a  chair,  and  a 


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COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


large  circle  (the  larger  the  better)  is  formed 
around  the  plate.  The  leader  then  gives 
the  plate  a  spin,  and  calls  out  the  name  of 
the  person  who  is  to  catch  it  Leader  then 
runs  to  his  seat,  leaving  the  plate  spinning, 
and  when  the  person  named  fails  to  catch  the 
plate  before  it  has  done  spinning,  he  or  she 
must  pay  a  forfeit,  which  must  be  held  until 
all  the  players  have  forfeited. 

This  game  excites  a  great  deal  of  merri 
ment,  and  should  be  played  in  a  spirited 
manner.  The  plate  should  be  fairly  spun, 
and  the  names  distinctly  but  quickly  called 
out.  A  little  stratagem  should  be  employed 
by  looking  towards  one  person,  and  then 
calling  out  the  name  of  another  quite  unex 
pectedly.  Nobody  should  demur  to  pay  a 
forfeit  if  fairly  fined,  and  each  person  should 
remember  his  own  forfeits. 

The  Game  of  Twenty  Questions. 

This  is  a  pleasant  game  enough  for  winter 
evenings,  and  is  played  by  one  person  fixing 
on  a  word  denoting  a  substance,  object,  etc. 
— substance  (for  the  purposes  of  the  game) 
being  unshapen  masses,  such  as  marble,  clay, 
wood  ;  objects  having  both  shape  and  form. 
Thus,  clay  is  a  substance,  but  a  flower-pot  an 
object :  marble  a  substance,  and  the  chimney- 
piece  an  object,  and  so  forth.  The  others 
try  to  discover  it,  in  turn,  by  putting  ques 
tions,  of  which  twenty  only  are  allowed, 
the  answers  being  confined  to  "  yes ! "  and 
"  no ! "  with  the  exception  of  that  defining 
whether  it  be  animal,  vegetable,  or  mineral. 
The  inquiries,  of  course,  will  be  governed  by 
the  an=-yers  given  as  the  game  proceeds,  and 
must  depend  on  the  tact  of  the  questioner. 
It  is  difficult  to  give  any  rules  for  guidance ; 
the  three  leading  questions,  however,  are 
usually — i.  Is  it  animal,  vegetable  or  min 
eral?  2.  Is  it  useful  or  ornamental?  3. 
Is  it  manufactured  or-  unmanufactured  ? 


The  Three  Kingdoms. 

This  game  is  somewhat  similar  to  "  Twen 
ty  Questions,"  and  both  are  popular.  We 
have  known  instances  of  these  games  being 
played  every  week  for  several  seasons  in  suc 
cession  and  by  the  same  parties. 

The  player  who  has  proposed  the  game 
withdraws  into  an  adjoining  chamber,  while 
the  rest  of  the  company  agree  upon  an  object 
that  he  must  guess. 

When  the  word  is  agreed  upon  they  recall 
him  ;  he  has  the  right  to  ask  twelve  ques 
tions,  which  refer  at  first  to  the  kingdom 
to  which  the  object  belongs  that  is  expressed 
by  the  word  selected,  upon  the  present  con 
dition  of  this  object,  the  country  where  it  is 
most  frequently  found,  and  finally,  upon  the 
metamorphosis  which  it  has  undergone,  its 
use,  and  its  qualities. 

There  are  three  kingdoms  in  nature,  to  wit, 
The  Animal  Kingdom — which  comprehends 
every  thing  that  has  life  and  movement,  and 
everything  that  has  formed  part  of  an  ani 
mated  being,  such  as  horn,  ivory,  skin,  hair, 
wool,  silk,  etc.,  etc. 

The  Vegetable  Kingdom,  which  includes 
trees,  plants,  flowers,  leaves,  fruits,  bark  ;  in  a 
word,  all  that  the  earth  produces  which  has 
life  without  movement. 

The  Mineral  Kingdom,  which  includes 
everything  that  has  neither  life  nor  move 
ment,  as  stones,  diamonds,  etc. 

An  object  may  belong  to  two  or  even  the 
three  kingdoms  at  once.  A  shoe,  for  instance, 
belongs  to  the  animal  kingdom  by  the  leather 
and  the  skin  of  which  it  is  composed,  to  the 
vegetable  kingdom  by  the  thread  with  which 
it  is  sewed,  and  to  the  mineral  kingdom,  if 
it  is  furnished  with  nails. 

It  is  necessary,  therefore,  before  selecting 
a  word,  to  enumerate  its  different  parts,  which 
may  connect  it  with  one  or  more  of  the 
three  kingdoms. 


HOME  PASTIMES  AND  AMUSEMENTS. 


The  players  should  answer  in  a  manner 
calculated  to  describe  the  object,  yet  not  too 
plainly.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  those  who 
give  false  notions  of  the  object  are  liable  to 
the  penalty  of  a  forfeit.  The  questioner  who, 
after  twelve  answers  which  are  recognized 
as  satisfactory  by  the  company,  fails  to 
guess  the  object,  pays  a  forfeit  in  his  turn, 
and  withdraws,  while  the  rest  of  the  players 
agree  upon  another  word,  which  he  must 
try  to  guess  in  the  same  manner. 

EXAMPLE. 

The  questioner,  having  heard  the  signal, 
re-enters,  and  directs  his  questions  somewhat 
in  this  manner : 

1.  "To   what  kingdom  does   the   object 
thought  of  belong?  " 

One  of  the  players  answers :  "  To  the  Ve 
getable  Kingdom,  and  no  other." 

2.  "  Is  it  growing  at  present,  or  put  to 
use?" 

"  Put  to  use." 

3.  "  Is  it  an  article  of  furniture  ?  " 
"No." 

4.  "  What  use  is  it  commonly  put  to?  " 

"  It  is  commonly  covered,  at  regular  inter 
vals,  with  a  fluid  of  a  color  completely 
opposite  to  its  own." 

5.  "In  what  places  is  it  most  commonly 
produced?" 

"  In  New  England,  New  York,  and  New 
Jersey." 

6.  "  Ah,  I  know  that  it  is  not  linen,  for 
neither  of  these  States  is  celebrated  for  that 
article." 

"  No,  but  linen  has  something  to  do  with 

it" 

7.  "What   metamorphosis  has   it  under 
gone  ?  " 

"  A  very  great  one.  It  has  been  cast  into 
the  water,  beaten,  crushed,  reduced  to  pulp, 
then  reunited  into  a  solid  body,  such  as  we 
see  it  every  day." 


8  "ItisP^rthen?" 

"  You  have  guessed  it" 

The  player  whose  answer  leads  the  ques* 
tioner  to  guess  the  riddle,  then  pays  a  forfeit, 
and  becomes  the  questioner  in  his  turn. 

Let  us  suppose  that  he  is  trying  to  divine 
the  object  next  thought  of,  he  begins  with 
the  same  question  as  his  predecessor. 

1.  "To  what  kingdom  does  it  belong  ?  " 
"To  the  three  kingdoms." 

2.  Is  it  put  to  use  then?" 
"  Yes." 

3.  "  Is  it  an  article  of  furniture?  w 
"  Portable  furniture." 

4.  "What  is  its  ordinary  use?" 
"  To  guard  against  dampness." 

One  of  the  players  here  makes  the  observa 
tion  that  this  reply  is  not  exact,  and  that  the 
respondent  owes  a  forfeit. 

The  latter  replies— "  Why,  if  I  said  that 
it  shielded  from  the  rain,  he  would  guess  it 
without  difficulty." 

The  questioner  replies  hastily,  "It  is  an 
umbrella.'1'1 

"  There  !  I  could  not  save  my  forfeit ;  it  is 
very  annoying." 

"  Go  into  the  next  room  ;  it  is  your  turn 
to  guess." 

The  umbrella,  in  truth,  belongs  to  the  ani* 
mat  kingdom  by  its  silk  covering  and  its 
whalebone  frame,  to  the  mineral  kingdom 
by  its  fastenings  of  copper  and  of  steel  wire, 
and  to  the  vegetable  kingdom  by  its  handle, 
of  what  wood  soever  it  may  be  made. 

Paper  made  of  old  rags  is  of  the  veg  /table 
kingdom  purely,  since  the  linen  is  m  zde  of 
hemp  or  flax,  and  muslin  and  calico  arc  made 
of  cotton,  which  belong  to  the  vegetable 
kingdom. 

Game  of  Consequences. 

This  game  requires  paper  and  pen?  >ls,  and 
each  one  is  to  write  according  to  the  direc 
tions  which  are  given  by  the  leads  r.  The 


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COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


first  one  is  told  to  write  one  or  more  terms 
descriptive  of  a  gentleman,  who  does  so,  and 
then  folds  down  the  paper  so  as  to  conceal 
what  is  written,  and  hands  it  to  the  next  one, 
who,after  receiving  the  order,  writes,  folds 
the  paper  down  as  before,  and  passes  it  on  to 
the  next  one,  and  so  on,  until  the  directions 
are  exhausted.  The  leader  then  reads  the  con 
tents  of  the  sheet  aloud,  which  will  cause 
much  amusement. 

Let  us  suppose  these  to  be  the  directions 
of  the  one  acting  as  leader  : 

"  Begin  by  writing  a  term  descriptive  of  a 
gentleman." 

"A  gentleman's  name;  some  one  you 
know  or  some  distinguished  person." 

"  An  adjective  descriptive  of  a  lady.*' 

"A  lady's  name." 

"Mention  a  place  and  describe  it." 

"  Write  down  some  date  or  period  of  time 
when  a  thing  might  happen." 

"  Put  a  speech  into  the  gentleman's  mouth." 
.      "  Make  the  lady  reply." 

"Tell  what  the  consequences  were? " 

"And  what  the  world  said  of  it? " 

The  paper  being  opened,  we  will  suppose 
it  to  read  as  follows  : 

"  The  modest  and  fascinating  Living  Skele 
ton  met  the  beautiful  and  charming  Fat 
Woman  at  the  Dime  Museum,  on  the  4th  of 
July,  1891.  He  said,  *  Dearest,  I  adore  you,' 
and  she  replied,  '  I'm  very  fond  of  it'  The 
consequences  were,  that  they  were  married, 
and  the  world  said,  'All's  well  that  ends 
well.' " 

Geographical  Play. 

Let  each  person  of  a  party  write  on  a 
piece  of  paper  the  name  of  some  town,  coun 
try  or  province ;  shuffle  these  tickets  to 
gether  in  a  little  basket,  and  whoever  draws 
out  one  is  obliged  to  give  an  account  of 
some  production,  either  natural  or  manufac 
tured,  for  which  that  place  is  remarkable. 


This  game  brings  out  a  number  of  curious 
bits  of  information  which  the  party  may 
have  gleaned  in  reading  or  in  travelling, 
and  which  they  might  never  have  mentioned 
to  each  other,  but  from  some  such  motive.  , 

Let  us  suppose  there  to  be  drawn  Nurem 
berg,  Turkey,  Iceland  and  Florida,  of  which 
the  drawers  narrate  thus :  »• 

Nuremberg  has  given  to  the  world  many 
useful  inventions.  Here  were  first  made  the 
pocket-watch,  the  air-gun,  gun-lock,  and 
various  mathematical  and  musical  instru 
ments  ;  and  at  present  half  the  children  of 
Europe  are  indebted  to  Nuremberg  for  toys; 
and  the  industry  of  the  inhabitants  is  ex 
tended  to  teaching  birds  to  pipe. 

Turkey  is  celebrated  for  its  costly  carpets, 
which  all  the  efforts  of  European  art  and 
capital  have  failed  in  closely  imitating ;  yet 
these  carpets  are  woven  by  the  women 
among  the  wandering  tribes  of  Asiatic  Tur 
key.  The  "Turkey  Bird"  is,  however, 
very  absurdly  named,  since  it  conveys  the 
false  idea  that  the  Turkey  orginated  in  Asia, 
whereas  it  is  a  native  of  America.  Neither 
is  "  Turkey  Coffee"  grown  in  Turkey,  but  is 
so  named  from  the  great  consumption  of 
coffee  in  that  country. 

Iceland  produces  in  abundance  a  certain 
lichen  called  Iceland  Moss,  which  is  brought 
to  America  as  a  medicine,  but  is  in  its  na 
tive  country  used  in  immense  quantities  as  an 
article  of  common  food.  When  the  bitter 
quality  has  been  extracted  by  steeping  in 
water,  the  moss  is  dried  and  reduced  to  pow 
der,  and  then  made  into  a  cake  with  meal  or 
boiled  and  eaten  with  milk. 

Florida  is  celebrated  for  its  -mild  and 
genial  climate,  its  extensive  orange  groves, 
immense  swamps  and  numerous  alligators. 
The  skin  of  the  alligator  is  now  used  for 
many  purposes,  such  as  binding  books,  mak 
ing  hand-bags,  pocket-books,  etc. 


HOME  PASTIMES  AND  AMUSEMENTS. 


219 


Tie  Wild  Beast  Show. 

A  screen  must  be  placed  at  the  end  of  the 
room;  behind  it  is  placed  a  mirror  and  a 
light  The  showman  stands  before  the  scene 
and  offers  to  exhibit  his  wild  animals  to  any 
person  who  will  promise  not  to  describe 
what  he  has  seen  when  he  comes  out.  Then 
the  person  who  gives  the  promise  and  de 
mands  admittance  is  asked  what  animal  he 
wishes  to  see.  On  his  naming  one,  the 
shoman  proceeds  to  describe  it.  The  de 
scription  should  be  very  witty,  and  should 
have  some  application  (either  compliment 
ary  or  satirical)  to  the  person  who  wishes  to 
see  the  show.  The  person  is  then  admitted 
ard  is  shown  himself  in  the  looking-glass. 
Marriages  and  Divorces. 

These  two  games  form  in  fact  but  one, 
such  is  the  resemblance  between  the  course 
to  be  pursued  by  both. 

The  company  commence  by  seating  them 
selves  before  a  table ;  the  ladies  are  seated  on 
one  side,  the  gentlemen  on  the  other.  The 
gentleman  and  lady  opposite  each  other  are 
the  future  spouses  in  the  game  of  Marriages, 
or  the  discontented  spouses  in  the  game  of 
Divorces. 

If  there  are  one  or  more  gentlemen  or 
ladies  left  after  the  couples  have  been 
formed,  they  compose  the  tribunal ;  if  there 
are  none  left,  one  of  the  couples  is  chosen 
to  represent  it.  Then  each  person  takes  a 
sheet  of  paper,  and  without  any  concert  with 
the  others,  traces  upon  it  a  sketch  of  his 
character. 

When  all  have  finished,  and  it  should  be 
done  as  quickly  as  possible,  the  tribunal, 
which  is  seated  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table, 
calls  up  the  pair  of  future  spouses  most  dis 
tant  from  it,  and  commands  them  to  give 
up  the  several  sheets  of  paper  upon  which 
they  have  written  their  characters  the  tri 
bunal  then  reads  aloud  the  qualities  or  de 


fects  which  the  couple  have  attributed  to 
themselves.  If  there  is  a  great  similarity  of 
character  between  the  pair,  they  are  declared 
man  and  wife,  and  invited  to  form  part  of 
the  tribunal ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  their  tastes 
are  opposite,  the  tribunal  decides  that  there 
is  no  reason  why  the  marriage  should  take 
place,  and  requires  a  forfeit  from  each.  , 

In  the  game  of  Divorces  the  only  difference 
is  that  the  marriage  is  confirmed,  where  there 
is  a  similarity  of  tempers,  and  both  are  re 
quired  to  give  a  forfeit  for  having  demanded 
a  separation,  without  just  cause ;  while,  on 
the  contrary,  the  marriage  is  dissolved  where 
incompatibility  really  exists,  and  the  pair  is 
divorced,  and  invited  to  augment  the  num 
ber  of  the  judges. 

Compliments. 

A  circle  is  formed  ;  a  gentleman  and  lady 
sitting  alternately.  Politeness  demands  that 
the  game  should  be  commenced  by  a  lady. 

"  I  should  like,  "  she  says,  "  to  be  such  or 
such  an  animal.  "  (The  more  abject  or  dis 
gusting  this  animal  is,  the  more  difficult  is  it 
to  invent  the  compliment  which  the  lady  has 
the  right  to  expect) 

Suppose,  for  example,  she  has  chosen  the 
hornet.  She  inquires  of  her  left  hand  neigh 
bor  if  he  knows  why  she  has  made  so  strange 
a  choice. 

The  latter,  who  is  not  expected  to  pay  her 
a  compliment,  replies  simply,  from  the  well 
known  nature  of  the  animal,  "  Because  you 
wish  that  all  living  beings  should  avoid  the 
place  where  you  have  chosen  your  abode. " 

The  lady  inquires  of  her  right  hand 
neighbor,  "What  advantage  would  I  find 
in  this  transformation?" 

Answer.  "  That  of  escaping  from  a  crowd 
of  admirers  whom  your  modesty  makes  you 
look  upon  as  importunate." 

If  the  gentleman  first  addressed  pays  the 
lady  a  compliment,  or  if  the  second  fails  to 


22O 

do  so,  both  pay  a  forfeit  already  agreed  upon. 

Then  it  becomes  the  turn  of  him  who  pays 
the  compliment  to  form  a  wish. 

He  expresses,  for  example,  a  desire  to  be  a 
goose.  Then  he  asks  the  lady  whom  he  has 
just  complimented  if  she  can  divine  what 
can  be  his  motive  ?  "  It  is,  "  she  replies, 
"that  you  may  inhabit  indifferently  either 
the  land  or  the  water. "  Then  addressing 
himself  to  the  lady  on  his  right  hand,  he 
says — "  What  advantage  would  I  find  in 
such  a  metamorphosis  ?  "  "  The  hope  so 
dear  to  your  heart  of  one  day  saving  your 
country,  as  the  geese  of  the  capitol  once 
saved  Rome.  " 

One  round  is  enough  at  this  game,  because 
nothing  is  more  tiresome  than  compliments, 
when  prolonged,  however  much  they  may 
be  merited.  It  is  necessary,  however,  to 
complete  the  entire  round,  in  order  to  de 
prive  110  one  of  his  or  her  turn,  as  the  little 
part  each  plays  is  always  flattering  to  the 
vanity,  even  of  those  among  the  company 
the  least  susceptible  of  it. 

The  Dutch  Concert. 

In  this  game  all  the  parties  sit  down.  Each 
person  makes  a  selection  of  an  instrument — 
say  one  takes  a  flute,  another  a  drum,  a  third 
the  trombone,  and  a  fourth  the  piano,  and 
each  person  must  imitate  in  the  best  way  he 
can  the  sound  of  the  instrument,  and  the 
motions  of  the  player.  The  leader  of  the 
band,  commencing  with  his  instrument,  all 
the  others  follow,  tuning  some  popular  air, 
such  as  "Yankee  Doodle,"  "Pop  goes  the 
Weasel,"  "Bobbing  Around,"  "In  the  Days 
when  we  went  Gipseying,"  or  any  other  air. 
The  fun  consists  in  this,  that  the  leader  may 
take  any  instrument  from  either  of  the  play 
ers,  who  must  watch  the  leader,  and  take  the 
instrument  which  he  was  previously  playing. 
If  he  fails  to  do  so,  he  pays  a  forfeit.  Or  if 
he  makes  a  mistake,  and  takes  the  wrong 


,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


instrument,  he  pays  forfeit  Suppose  A  be 
the  leader,  playing  the  violin,  and  B  to  be 
one  of  the  band,  playing  the  trombone. 
Directly  A  ceases  to  play  the  violin 
and  imitates  the  trombone,  B  must  cease 
the  trombone,  and  imitate  the  violin,  and 
immediately  A  returns  to  the  violin,  B 
must  take  the  trombone,  or  whatever  other 
instrument  A  was  playing  the  moment 
before  he  took  the  violin.  If  he  makes  a 
mistake,  he  pays  forfeit. 

This  is  a  very  laughable,  though  rather 
noisy  game.     It  should  not  be  continued  too 
long.     A  good  leader  will  soon  be  able  to 
impose  forfeits  upon  all  the  players. 
Tombola. 

This  novel  game  is  productive  of  much 
fun. 

The  mistress  of  the  house  who  desires  to 
set  up  a  lottery,  should  have  provided  be 
forehand  a  number  of  fancy  articles,  toys, 
and  elegant  nicknackeries ;  and  among  these 
should  be  prepared  one  in  particular,  destined 
to  the  discomfiture  of  some  luckless  expect' 
ant.  This  lot  should  be  carefully  enveloped 
in  several  wrappers  of  tissue  paper,  and  well 
laid  up  in  cotton,  and  may  consist  of  any 
absurd  and  childish  or  worthless  article.  It 
should  be  placed  the  last  according  to  the 
law  of  gradation  observed  with  respect  to 
the  remaining  lots,  set  out  on  the  table  and 
left  uncovered. 

When  the  time  of  drawing  has  arrived, 
the  master  of  the  house  takes  a  pack  of 
cards,  which  he  distributes  among  the 
drawers,  according  to  their  several  wishes— 
an  agreed  price  being  set  upon  each  card. 
When  this  is  done  he  takes  another  pack, 
from  which  a  number  of  cards  are  drawn 
without  being  looked  at,  equal  to  the 
number  of  lots,  and  one  is  placed  under 
each.  He  then  turns  up  the  remainder  of 
the  pack,  laying  down  each  card  in  succes- 


HOME  PASTIMES  AND  AMUSEMENTS. 


221 


f.ion  and  calling  it  out.  The  drawer  who 
has  a  similar  card  to  the  one  called  out, 
places  his  beside  it.  When  the  whole  are 
thus  gone  through,  those  who  remain  holders 
of  cards  corresponding  to  those  under  the 
lots  are  declared  the  winners ;  but  of  what, 
remains  to  be  seen.  The  card  under  each 
lot  is  called  out,  beginning  with  the  first ;  and 
the  drawer  who  holds  a  similar  one  carries 
off  the  lot.  Thus  in  succession  through  all 
the  lots,  until  the  last,  or  the  great  "sell"  lot. 

So  much  for  the  technical  arrangement  of 
the  game;  now  let  us  sketch  its  dramatic 
effect — the  movement  and  excitement  to 
which  it  gives  rise.  As  one  by  one  the 
cards  in  the  drawers'  hands  are  proclaimed 
worthless,  the  laugh  at  their  disappointment 
stimulates  them  to  make  another  venture, 
and  a  general  bidding  takes  place  for  those 
that  remain,  and  as  their  number  diminishes, 
and  the  consequent  probability  of  any  one 
of  them  becoming  a  prize  increases,  they 
fetch  higher  and  still  higher  prices.  The 
anxiety — the  mingled  hope  and  fear  with 
which  all  eyes  are  fixed  on  the  card  about  to 
be  turned  up,  are  emotions  which  not  the 
coolest  and  soberest  of  the  company  can 
guard  against;  and  when,  at  last,  the  lots 
are  distributed  to  the  winners,  each  is  in 
more  or  less  trepidation,  lest  his  prize  entitle 
him  to  the  honor  of  contributing  to  the 
general  mirth  by  being  presented  with  the 
"sell,"  and  having  deliberately  to  unfold 
layer  after  layer  of  the  paper  and  wool  until 
he  reaches  the  kernel  of  the  mortifying  joke 
which  is  cracked  against  him. 

The  mistress  of  the  house  retains  from  the 
proceeds  of  the  lottery  the  cost  of  the  various 
articles  drawn  for,  and  the  remainder  is  de 
voted  to  some  charitable  purpose. 
The  Bouquet. 

Each  player  in  his  turn  supposes  himself  a 
bouquet,  composed  of  three  different  flowers. 


Each  one  must  name  aloud  to  the  leader  oi 
the  game  the  three  flowers  of  which  he  con 
siders  himself  composed. 

The  leader  of  the  game  writes  down  the 
names  of  the  three  flowers,  and  adds  to  what 
he  has  written,  without  informing  the  other, 
the  names  of  any  three  persons  of  the  com 
pany  he  may  choose. 

He  then  asks  the  player  to  what  use  he 
intends  to  put  the  three  flowers  he  has 
chosen.  The  player  tells  him  to  what  use 
he  means  to  put  them,  and  the  leader  of  the 
game  applies  it  to  the  three  persons  that  he 
has  written  down. 

EXAMPLE. 

THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GAME.  Miss  Julk, 
choose  your  three  flowers. 

JULIA.  The  Marigold,  the  Bachelor's  but 
ton,  and  the  Rose. 

THE  LEADER.  I  have  written  them  down. 
Now  what  will  you  do  with  your  Marigold  ? 

JULIA.     I  will  throw  it  over  my  shoulder. 

THE  LEADER.  And  the  Bachelor's  Button  ? 

JULIA.     I  will  put  it  at  my  window. 

THE  LEADER.     And  the  Rose? 

JULIA.     I  will  put  it  on  the  mantel-piece. 

THE  LEADER.  Very  well,  you  have  thrown 
Adolphus  over  your  shoulder,  you  have  put 
Miss  Maria  at  your  window,  and  adorned 
your  mantel-piece  with  Charles.  And  now, 
Mr.  Adolphus,  it  is  your  turn  to  speak 
Choose  your  three  flowers. 

Flora's  Bouquet. 

Each  player  chooses  three  flowers,  having 
a  well-known  signification,  either  compli 
mentary  or  uncomplimentary,  to  suit  the 
person  for  whom  he  secretly  designs  them ; 
he  binds  them  together,  deposits  the  bouquet 
in  a  vase,  writes  upon  the  vase  a  motto,  and 
sends  it  to  the  person  whom  he  intends  it 
for.  Even  in  the  gift  on  an  uncomplimen 
tary  flower  the  flower  itself  is  some  compen 
sation  for  the  slur  it  conveys. 


222 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


EXAMPLE. 

A  young  lady,  who  is  annoyed  by  the 
importunities  of  a  disagreeable  admirer, 
expresses  herself  thus: 

"I  choose  a  Poppy,  a  Pink,  and  a  Thistle. 

"The  Poppy  is  a  symbol  of  the  wearisome- 
?iess  which  leads  to  sleep,  the  Pink  is  that  of 
gelf-conceit,  and  the  Thistle  is  that  of  the 
wreath  which  self-conceit  merits. 

"To  tie  this  bouquet,  I  take  a  piece  of 
ribbon-grass. 

"I  place  it  in  a  vase  of  the  commonest 
earth. 

"  I  write  upon  the  vase :  *  Praise  be  accord 
ing  to  merit' 


"  I  address  the  whole  to  Mr. 


and 


spare  him  the  trouble  of  thanking  me." 

A  young  man  composes  his  bouquet  in  the 
following  manner: 

"  I  choose  a  Rose,  a  Pansy,  and  a  Lily  of 
the  Valley. 

"The  Rose  is  the  symbol  of  beauty,  the 
Pansy  that  of  wit,  and  the  Lily  of  the  Valley 
that  of  virgin  simplicity. 

"I  tie  this  bouquet  with  a  piece  of  ivy 
symbolical  of  my  constancy. 

"  I  place  it  in  a  vase  of  gold,  upon  which 
I  write:  'To  Beauty,  adorned  by  Virtue.' 

"And  I  present  it  to  Miss ." 

The  Blind  Postman, 

The  game  of  the  Blind  Postman  is  one 
especially  adapted  for  a  large  party.  It  is 
played  as  follows : 

The  postman  is  selected  by  lot,  while  the 
postmaster-general  either  volunteers  his  ser 
vices,  or  he  is  elected  by  the  company.  The 
person  on  whom  the  unwished-for  honor  of 
enacting  postman  falls  (it  may  be  either  a 
lady  or  a  gentleman)  is  blindfolded ;  the  re 
mainder  of  the  company  meanwhile  seating 
themselves  around  the  room.  The  number 
of  chairs  is  limited,  so  that  there  shall  be  one 
less  than  the  number  of  players.  The  post 


master-general  then  wntes  the  names  of  cei 
tain  cities  and  towns  on  slips  of  paper,  giv 
ing  one  to  each  person,  so  that  they  maj1 
remember  by  what  name  they  are  to  answer. 
Should  there  be  but  few  players.,  the  namei 
can  be  given  orally.  The  postman  is  placed 
in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  the  postmaster* 
general  takes  up  a  position  from  which  he 
can  address  the  entire  company. 

He  commences  the  game  by  calling  out 
"  New  York  to  Philadelphia  "  (or  any  othet 
places  which  he  may  select).  The  players 
bearing  these  names  must  instantly  rise,  and 
endeavor  to  change  seats  with  each  other; 
while  the  postman  tries  to  capture  one  of 
them  before  they  accompish  the  change. 
Should  he  succeed  he  removes  the  bandage 
from  his  eyes,  and  takes  the  chair  which  his 
captive  has  vacated,  while  the  latter  is  blind 
folded  and  becomes  postman  in  turn  in  ad 
dition  to  paying  a  forfeit 

Forfeits  are  also  incurred  by  those  svho  do 
not  spring  to  their  feet  and  endeavor  to 
change  seats  with  the  town  or  city  whose 
name  is  called  in  connection  with  their  own. 
Forfeits  are  also  demanded  of  those  who,  in 
their  hurry  to  be  in  time,  answer  when  their 
name  has  not  been  called.  The  confusion 
caused  by  these  blunders  places  many  chances 
in  the  postman's  favor.  The  postmaster- 
general  may  hold  his  appointment  till  the 
end  of  the  game,  but  if  he  tire  of  his  honors 
he  may  resign. 

Cross  Purposes. 

THIS  is  another  very  entertaining  game. 

One  player  goes  round  among  the  circle 
and  whispers  in  each  one's  ear  an  answer  he 
is  to  make  to  the  next  player  who  comes 
after  him  asking  questions.  For  instancy 
Charles  goes  round  to  Nos.  -f,  2,  3  and  4. 

To  No.  i  he  whispers— "  Hot,  sweet,  and  strong/' 
To  No.  2,  "With  pepper  and  vinegar.'* 
To  No.  3,  "With  my  best  love." 
To  No.  4,  "  No,  indeed." 


HOME  PASTIMES  AND  AMUSEMENTS. 


223 


And  to  the  whole  circle  an  answer  of 
(Some  kind. 

Jane  comes  after  Charles,  to  ask  any  ques 
tions  her  own  wit,  we  will  suppose,  may  sug 
gest. 

She  asks  No.   rs   "  What  kind  of  a  week  have  you 

passed?" 

No.  i,  Hot,  sweet,  and  strong." 
To  No.  2,  Shall  you  ever  marry  ?  " 
No.  2,  "With  pepper  and  vinegar." 
To  No.  3,  "  How  will  you  keep  house  on  these  ?  " 
No.  3,  "  With  my  best  love." 
To  No.  4,  "Do  you  love  me ?  " 
No.  4,  "No,  indeed!" 

Much  amusement  is  made  by  the  total 
variance  of  the  questions  and  answers,  and 
sometimes  a  very  hard  blow  is  administered 
to  some  of  the  company,  but,  of  course,  no 
offence  should  be  taken. 

The  Traveller's  Tour. 

This  game  may  be  played  by  any  number 
of  persons. 

One  of  the  party  announces  himself  the 
Traveller,  and  about  to  take  a  little  tour. 
He  calls  upon  any  of  the  party  for  informa 
tion  respecting  the  objects  of  the  greatest  in 
terest  to  be  noticed  in  the  different  towns  and 
villages  through  which  he  intends  passing. 

He  is  given  an  empty  bag,  and  to  each  of 
the  persons  joining  in  the  game  are  distribut 
ed  sets  of  counters  with  numbers  on.  Thus, 
if  twelve  persons  were  playing,  the  counters 
required  would  be  up  to  number  twelve,  and 
a  set  of  ones  would  be  given  to  the  first  per 
son,  twos  to  the  second,  threes  to  the  third, 
and  so  on. 

When  the  traveller  announces  the  name 
of  the  place  he  intends  stopping  at,  the  first 
person  is  at  liberty  to  give  any  information, 
or  make  any  remark  respecting  it ;  if  he  can 
not  do  so,  the  second  person  has  the  chance, 
or  the  third,  or  it  passes  on  until  some  one 
is  able  to  speak  concerning  it.  If  the  travel 
ler  considers  it  correct  information,  or  worthy 
of  notice,  he  takes  from  the  person  one  of 


his  counters,  as  a  pledge  of  the  obligation  he 
is  under  to  him.  The  next  person  in  order 
to  the  one  who  spoke  last  is  to  proceed,  so 
as  not  each  time  to  begin  with  number  one. 
If  no  one  of  the  party  speaks,  the  traveller 
may  consider  there  is  nothing  worthy  of 
notice  at  the  place  he  has  announced,  and  he 
then  passes  on  to  another. 

After  he  has  reached  his  destination,  he 
turns  out  his  bag  to  see  which  of  the  party 
has  given  him  the  greatest  amount  of  infor 
mation,  and  that  person  is  considered  to 
have  won  the  game,  and  is  entitled  to  be  the 
Traveller  in  the  next  game. 

If  it  should  happen  that  two  or  more  per 
sons  should  have  given  the  same  number  of 
counters,  those  persons  are  to  be  allowed  m 
succession  to  continue  to  assist  the  Traveller 
and  deposit  their  pledges,  until  one  alone 
remains. 

EXAMPLE  OF  THE  GAME. 

TRAVELLER.  I  intend  to  take  a  little  ex 
cursion  this  summer,  and  shall  soon  start 
from  New  York  for  Niagara ;  but  as  I  wish 
to  stop  at  several  places,  I  shall  travel  slowly. 
My  route  will  be  by  steamboat  up  the  Hud 
son  to  Albany,  thence  through  the  centre  ol 
the  state  to  the  Falls. 

NUMBER  ONE.  Soon  after  leaving  New 
York  city  you  come  to  the  Palisades,  which 
form  one  of  the  first  objects  of  interest  in 
your  route.  The  noble  river  is  then  walled 
in  for  thirty  miles  by  high  precipitous  rocks, 
upon  whose  summits  imagination  has  but  to 
place  some  ruined  castles  to  suggest  olden 
memories,  and  the  inferiority  of  the  scenery 
of  the  vaunted  Rhine  to  that  of  the  HudsoE 
must  be  confessed. 

TRAVELLER.  Thank  you  for  this  infor 
mation  ;  pray  deposit  a  counter  in  my  bag, 
that  I  may  remember  to  whom  I  owe  it  I 
propose  to  stop  at  Tarrytown. 

NUMBERS  Two  and  THREE  not  answering 


224 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


NUMBER  FOUR.  Pray  visit  the  spot  of 
Andre's  arrest  After  the  final  arrangements 
with  Arnold  in  regard  to  the  betrayal  of 
West  Point  were  made,  Andre  proceeded  on 
horseback  to  New  York,  and  when  he  reach 
ed  this  spot  supposed  himself  to  be  within  the 
British  lines,  and  thus  secure  from  danger. 
Here  he  was  stopped  by  three  soldiers,  whose 
names  will  ever  be  held  in  remembrance— 
Paulding,  Williams,  and  Van  Wart  Instead 
of  showing  his  passport,  he  inquired  whence 
they  came,  and  receiving  for  answer  "  From 
below,"  he  responded  "So  do  I,"  showing  at 
the  same  time  his  uniform  as  a  British  officer. 
"We  arrest  you  as  an  enemy  to  our  country," 
replied  these  soldiers;  and  resisting  all  his 
attempts  at  bribery,  they  led  him  captive  to 
the  head-quarters  of  the  American  general. 
His  sad  fate  is  well  known.  Hung  as  a  spy 
near  this  place,  his  remains  were  left  here  a 
few  years,  but  are  deposited  among  England's 
illustrious  dead  in  Westminster  Abbey. 
Number  Four  deposits  a  counter. 

NUMBER  SEVEN.  The  Hudson  is  rich  in 
revolutionary  reminiscences.  A  short  dis 
tance  from  Tarrytown,  on  the  opposite  shore, 
you  will  reach  Stony  Point,  the  scene  of  Mad 
Anthony  Wayne's  daring  exploit  in  1779, 
when,  without  firing  a  single  gun,  the  fort 
here  situated  was  surprised  and  taken  by  as 
sault,  forming  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
Exploits  achieved  during  the  war.  A  counter 
of  Number  Seven  is  put  into  the  bag. 

TRAVELLER.  I  cannot  stop  long  here, 
but  must  proceed  with  my  journey.  Where 
shall  I  stop  next? 

NUMBER  NINE.  You  pass  then  at  once 
into  the  Highlands.  Here  the  Hudson  has 
burst  its  way  at  some  distant  period  through 
the  mountains,  leaving  on  each  side  a  ram 
part  of  almost  perpendicular  hills  of  from  six 
hundred  to  seventeen  hundred  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  river.  Most  prominent  among 


them  are  the  Dunderberg,  Anthony's 

and  Butter  Hill.     Number  Nine  deposits  a 

counter. 

NUMBER  TWELVE.  In  the  bosom  of  the 
Highlands  you  will  find  West  Point,  which 
is  unquestionably  the  most  romantic  spot  or 
the  river.  The  village  is  placed  upon  tli£ 
top  of  a  promontory  one  hundred  and  eighty- 
eight  feet  above  the  river,  where  there  is 
spread  out  a  level  plateau  or  terrace  more 
than  one  mile  in  circumference.  Numbei 
Twelve  puts  a  counter  into  the  bag. 

TRAVELLER.  Can  you  give  me  any 
other  information  ? 

NUMBER  Two.  West  Point  is  the  seat 
of  the  United  States  Military  Academy,  es 
tablished  in  1812  ;  the  land  was  ceded  to  the 
United  States  by  New  York  in  1826.  Num 
ber  Two  deposits  a  counter. 

NUMBER  Six.  It  is  famous  as  the  scene 
of  Arnold's  treason.  During  the  Revolution 
this  post  was  consideied  the  key  of  the  Hud 
son,  and  a  heavy  chain  was  here  stretched 
from  shore  to  shore.  The  British  were  very 
anxious  to  obtain  possession  of  this  place, 
which  they  would  have  done  had  Arnold's 
treason  succeeded.  Number  Six  hands  the 
Traveller  a  counter. 

TRAVELLER.  Are  there  more  objects  ol 
interest  on  the  river  ? 

NUMBER  EIGHT.  Notice  the  Catskill 
Mountains,  which  present  a  very  abrupt 
front  to  the  river  and  run  nearly  parallel  to 
it  for  twenty  miles.  The  views  from  the 
Mountain  House  are  grand  and  majestic — 
up  and  down  the  Hudson  one  can  see  foi 
seventy  milts  either  way — and  the  Fall  oi 
the  Katers  Kill,  three  miles  from  the  House, 
is  exceedingly  beautiful.  Number  Eigh', 
deposits  a  counter. 

TRAVELLER.  My  time  will  not  permit 
me  to  visit  all  objects  and  places  of  interest ; 
the  principal  ones  must  content  me;  mj 


HOME  PASTIMES  AND  AMUSEMENTS. 


225 


next  resting  place  will  be  the  city  of  Albany. 

NUMBER  THREE.  You  will  find  Albany 
pleasantly  situated.  From  the  top  of  the 
capitol,  which  is  built  on  a  hill,  the  view  is 
very  fine.  You  will  find  all  the  public  State 
buildings  worthy  a  visit,  as  well  as  those  for 
educational  and  literary  purposes,  Albany 
being  distinguished  for  these  last.  Number 
Oftiree  deposits  a  counter. 

TRAVELLER.  I  shall  no  doubt  find  pleas- 
are  in  visiting  them,  but  after  leaving  Albany 
I  shall  be  obliged  to  hasten,  taking  the  cars 
from  there  as  the  most  expeditious  way. 
Shall  I  stop  at  Schenectady  ? 

No  one  replies,  so  the  Traveller  considers 
there  is  nothing  peculiarly  interesting  th^re, 
and  proceeds  to  another  place,  asking — 
"Where  would  you  advise  me  to  stop? " 

NUMBER  FIVE.  The  beauty  of  Trenton 
Falls  is  well  and  widely  celebrated.  Stop 
ping  at  Utica,  you  will  have  a  slight  detour 
of  sixteen  miles  to  make  in  order  to  reach 
them,  but  you  will  be  fully  compensated  for 
the  trouble.  Number  Five  deposits  a  counter. 

NUMBER  NINE.  When  again  on  your 
route,  do  not  fail  to  stop  at  Syracuse,  at 
which  place,  in  connection  with  the  village 
of  Salina,  a  few  miles  distant,  you  will  find 
the  most  extensive  salt  manufactories  in  the 
United  States.  Salt  is  obtained  from  the 
various  salt-springs  here  abundant,  in  several 
ways,  by  boiling,  evaporation,  etc., — and  the 
processes  are  exceedingly  interesting.  Num 
ber  Nine  hands  a  counter. 

TRAVELLER.  Shall  I  find  more  objects  of 
interest  here? 

NUMBER  ELEVEN.  Syracuse  is  situated  on 
Onondaga  Lake.  In  the  southern  part  of 
this  State  lie  a  cluster  of  lakes  of  which  this 
is  one,  all  remarkable  for  beautiful  scenery. 
The  tourist  for  pleasure  will  not  regret  the 
time  spent  among  them.  Number  Eleven 
deposits  a  counter. 
IS 


TRAVELLER.  I  am  much  indebted  to  my 
friends  for  the  information  I  have  received  j 
which  one  will  give  me  an  account  of  my 
destination? 

NUMBER  NINE.  On  the  western  border 
of  the  State,  in  a  river  or  strait  of  thirty-four 
miles  in  length,  running  from  Lake  Erie  to 
Lake  Ontario,  and  pouring  the  waters  of  the 
Great  Lakes  over  a  precipice  of  one  hundred 
and  sixty-five  feet  in  perpendicular  height^ 
thunders  the  far-famed  and  unrivalled  catar 
act  of  Niagara,  in  whose  presence  all  stand 
dumb  with  no  power  to  describe,  but  only  tc 
wonder  and  adore.  About  three  miles  belou 
its  commencement  the  river  divides  into  two 
arms,  which  embrace  an  island  called  Grand 
Island,  twelve  miles  long  and  from  two  tc 
seven  wide.  Nearly  three  miles  below  Grand 
Island  the  Rapids  commence,  and  after  i 
course  of  rather  more  than  half  a  mile,  ter 
minate  in  the  Great  Cataract.  Goat  Island, 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide  and  half  a  mile  long, 
extends  to  the  very  brow  of  the  precipice,  and 
divides  the  Falls  into  two  portions,  the  highej 
of  which  is  on  the  American  side,  but  the 
greatest  body  of  water  is  on  the  Canadian. 
The  American  Fall  is  again  subdivided  very 
unequally  by  Iris  Island,  with  the  greater  of 
these  subdivisions  nearest  the  New  York 
shore.  Of  the  grandeur  and  sublimity  of  this 
scene,  and  of  the  emotions  with  which  it  fills 
the  soul,  I  am  utterly  unable  to  speak. 

The  Traveller  having  reached  his  place  of 
destination,  examines  his  bag,  and  finding  that 
Number  Nine  has  deposited  the  most  count 
ers,  he  is  considered  to  have  won  the  game 
and  is  entitled  to  be  the  Traveller  in  the 
next  game. 

The  Lawyer. 

THE  company  must  form  in  two  rows, 
opposite  to  and  facing  each  other,  leaving 
room  for  the  Lawyer  to  pass  up  and  down 
between  them. 


226 

When  all  are  seated,  the  one  who  person 
ates  the  Lawyer  will  ask  a  question  or  ad 
dress  a  remark  to  one  of  the  persons  present, 
fcHher  standing  before  the  person  addressed, 
;>r  calling  his  name.  The  one  spoken  to  is 
uot  to  answer,  but  the  one  sitting  opposite 
to  him  must  reply  to  the  question.  The  ob 
ject  of  the  Lawyer  is  to  make  either  the  one 
he  speaks  to  answer  him,  or  the  one  that 
should  answer  to  keep  silent ;  therefore  he 
should  be  quick  in  hurrying  from  one  to  an 
other  with  his  questions,  taking  them  by 
surprise,  and  noticing  those  who  are  the 
most  inattentive.  No  one  must  be  allowed 
to  remind  another  of  his  turn  to  speak. 
Wheii  the  Lawyer  has  succeeded  in  either 
making  one  speak  that  should  not,  or  find 
ing  any  that  did  not  answer  when  they 
should,  they  must  exchange  places  with  each 
other,  and  the  one  caught  becomes  Lawyer. 

This  game  will  be  found  quite  amusing  if 
Conducted  with  spirit. 

The  Sorcerer  Behind  the  Screeti. 

The  players  conceal  behind  a  screen,  or 
behind  the  door  of  an  adjacent  chamber,  the 
one  of  their  number  from  whom  they  wish 
to  obtain  forfeits.  The  rest  of  the  company 
place  themselves  out  of  his  sight,  and  the 
one  who  leads  the  game  calls  out  to  him — 

"Are  you  there?  Are  you  ready?"  "Yes, 
begin!" — "Do  you  know  Miss  — — ?"  (nam 
ing  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  company)  "Yes." 
—"Do  yea  know  her  dress?"  "Yes." — 
"Her  shawl?  "Yes." — "Do  you  know  her 
slippers?"  'Yes."— "Her  collar?"  "Yes."— 
"  Her  glovts:?  "  "  Yes."—"  And  her  ring?  " 
"Yes." — "You  know  then  everything  that 
fche  wears?"  "Yes."— "Her  belt?"  "Yes." 
-  '  Her  fan?"  "Yes." 

The  questioner  adds  as  many  articles  of 
dress  as  he  pleases,  or  changes  them  at  his 
pleasure.  The  other  always  answers,  "Yes." 


"Since  you  know  her  so  well,  tell  me  what 
article  of  her  dress  I  touch?" 

If  the  sorcerer  has  not  been  let  into  the 
secret  before  the  commencement  of  the 
game,  he,  of  course,  names  a  number  ol 
articles  before  he  hits  upon  the  right  one, 
and  he  pays  a  forfeit  for  every  mistake  he 
commits;  he  pays  a  forfeit  also  when  he 
names  an  article  which  the  questioner  has 
not  mentioned. 

If  acquainted  with  the  game  he  would 

say,  "You  touch  Miss 's  ring,"  because 

this  is  the  only  article  before  which  the 
questioner  has  placed  the  conjunction  "and^ 
which  is  the  word  of  recognition  to  the 
sorcerer  instructed  in  the  game. 

When  any  of  the  player?  acquainted  with 
the  game  wisli  to  impose  upon  one  of  their 
number,  previous  to  selecting  him  they 
choose  two  or  three  sorcerers,  who  know  the 
game.  The  latter  feign  to  mistake  once  or 
twice  to  excite  no  suspicion,  and  as  soon  as 
the  last  one  of  them  has  guessed  rightly 
(which  he  could  have  done  at  first  if  he  had 
chosen),  he  names  as  his  successor  the  pool 
dupe  at  whose  expense  they  have  previous!} 
agreed  to  amuse  themselves. 

The  Pigeon  Flies. 

This  is  a  very  simple  game.  Each  one  of 
the  company  places  a  finger  upon  a  table,  or 
upon  the  lap  of  the  leader  of  the  game,  and 
each  must  raise  his  finger  as  soon  as  the 
leader  says — "Pigeon  (or  he  may  name  any 
other  bird) _/&>.?." 

If,  out  of  mischief  he  names  any  object 
that  is  not  a  bird,  and  anyone  of  the  players 
raises  his  finger  by  mistake,  the  latter  pays  a 
forfeit,  for  he  ought  not  to  raise  it  excep« 
after  the  name  of  some  bird  or  winged  insect 
This  game  teaches  young  people  close  attri 
tion,  quick  perception  and  ?  knowledge  of 
ornithology. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


Helps,  Flints  and  Advice  to  the  "Queen  of  the  Household;'* 
Cooking,  Preserving,  Cleaning  and  Mending. 


rE  following  collection  of  receipts  for 
use  in  cooking  has  been  gathered 
from  the  best  sources,  and  will  be  of 
great  value  in  the  kitchen.  All  the  receipts 
here  given  are  such  as  have  been  tried  and 
proved. 

Beef  Soup. — Select  a  small  shin  of  beef 
of  moderate  size,  crack  the  bone  in  small 
pieces,  wash  and  place  it  in  a  kettle  to  boil, 
\vith  five  or  six  quarts  of  cold  water.  Let 
it  boil  about  two  hours,  or  until  it  begins  to 
get  tender,  then  season  it  with  a  tablespoonful 
of  salt,  and  a  teaspoonful  of  pepper;  boil  it 
one  hour  longer,  then  add  to  it  one  carrot, 
two  turnips,  two  tablespoonfuls  of  rice  or 
pearl  barley,  one  head  of  celery  and  a  tea- 
spoonful  of  summer  savory  powdered  fine; 
the  vegetables  to  be  minced  up  in  small 
pieces  like  dice.  After  these  ingredients 
have  boiled  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  put  in  two 
potatoes  cut  up  in  small  pieces ;  let  it  boil 
half  an  hour  longer,  take  the  meat  from  the 
soup,  and  if  intended  to  be  seived  with  it, 
take  out  the  bones  and  lay  it  closely  and 
neatly  on  a  dish,  and  garnish  with  sprigs  of 
parsley. 

Serve  made  mustard  and  catsup  with  it 
It  is  very  nice  pressed  and  eaten  cold  with 
mustard  and  vinegar,  or  catsup.  Four  hours 
are  required  for  making  this  soup.  Should 
any  remain  over  the  first  day,  it  may  be  heat- 
ad,  with  the  addition  of  a  little  boiling  water, 
and  served  again.  Some  fancy  a  glass  of 
brown  sherry  added  just  before  being  served. 
Serve  very  hot 

Veal  Sotlp. — Put  a  knuckle  of  veal  into 
tJiree  quarto  of  cold  water,  with  a  small 


quantity  of  salt,  and  one  small  tablespoonfo, 
of  uncooked  rice.  Boil  slowly,  hardly  above 
simmering,  four  hours,  when  the  liquoi 
should  be  reduced  to  half  the  usual  quantity, 
remove  from  the  fire.  Into  the  tureen  put 
the  yolk  of  one  egg,  and  stir  well  into  it  a 
teacupful  of  cream,  or,  in  hot  weather,  new 
milk ;  add  a  piece  of  butter  the  size  of  a 
hickory-nut;  on  this  strain  the  soup,  boiling 
hot,  stirring  all  the  time.  Just  at  the  last^ 
beat  it  well  for  a  minute. 

Chicken  Cream  Soup. — An  old  chicken 
for  soup  is  much  the  best  Cut  it  up  into 
quarters,  put  it  into  a  soup  kettle  with  half 
a  pound  of  corned  ham,  and  an  onion ;  add 
four  quarts  of  cold  water.  Bring  slowly  to 
a  gentle  boil,  and  keep  this  up  until  the 
liquid  has  diminished  one-third,  and  the  meat 
drops  from  the  bones ;  then  add  half  a  cup 
of  rice.  Season  with  salt,  pepper,  and  ti 
bunch  of  chopped  parsley. 

Cook  slowly  until  the  rice  is  tender,  then 
the  meat  should  be  taken  out.  Now,  stir  in 
two  cups  of  rich  milk  thickened  with  a  little 
flour.  The  chicken  could  be  fried  in  a  spoon 
ful  of  butter  and  a  gravy  made,  reserving 
some  of  the  white  part  of  the  meat,  chopping 
it  and  adding  it  to  the  soup. 

Ox-Tail  Soup. — Two  ox-tails,  two  slices 
of  ham,  one  ounce  of  butter,  two  carrots, 
two  turnips,  three  onions,  one  leek,  one  head 
of  celery,  one  bunch  of  savory  herbs,  pep 
per,  a  tablespoonful  of  salt,  two  tablespoon- 
fuls  of  catsup,  one-half  glass  of  port  wine 
three  quarts  of  water. 

Cut  up  the  tails,  separating  them  at  thfc 
joints;  wash  them,  and  put  them  in  a  stew 

227 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


pan  with  the  butter.  Cut  the  vegetables  in 
slices  and  add  them  with  the  herbs.  Put  in 
one-half  pint  of  water,  and  stir  it  over  a 
quick  fire  till  the  juices  are  drawn.  Fill  up 
the  stewpan  with  water,  and  when  boiling, 
add  the  salt.  Skim  well,  and  simmer  very 
gently  for  four  hours,  or  until  the  tails  are 
tender.  Take  them  out,  skim  and  strain  the 
soup,  thicken  with  flour,  and  flavor  with  the 
catsup  and  port  wine.  Put  back  the  tails, 
simmer  for  five  minutes  and  serve. 

Another  way  to  make  an  appetizing  ox 
tail  soup.  You  should  begin  to  make  it  the 
day  before  you  wish  to  eat  the  soup.  Take 
two  tails,  wash  clean,  and  put  in  a  kettle 
with  nearly  a  gallon  of  cold  water;  add  a 
«nall  handful  of  salt ;  when  the  meat  is  well 
cooked,  take  out  the  bones.  Let  this  stand 
in  a  cool  room,  covered,  and  next  day,  about 
an  hour  and  a  half  before  dinner,  skim  off 
the  crust  or  cake  of  fat  which  has  risen  to 
the  top.  Add  a  little  onion,  carrot,  or  any 
vegetables  you  choose,  chopping  them  fine 
first ;  summer  savory  may  also  be  added. 

Corn  Soup. — Cut  the  corn  from  the  cob, 
and  boil  the  cobs  in  water  for  at  least  an 
hour,  then  add  the  grains,  and  boil  until  they 
are  thoroughly  done;  put  one  dozen  ears. of 
corn  to  a  gallon  of  water,  which  will  be  re 
duced  to  three  quarts  by  the  time  the  soup 
is  done ;  then  pour  on  a  pint  of  new  milk, 
two  well-beaten  eggs,  salt  and  pepper  to 
your  taste;  continue  the  boiling  a  while 
longer,  and  stir  in,  to  season  and  thicken  it 
a  little,  a  tablespoonful  of  good  butter  rubbed 
up  with  two  tablespoonfuls  of  flour.  Corn 
soup  may  also  be  made  nicely  with  water  in 
which  a  pair  of  grown  fowls  have  been  boiled 
or  parboiled,  instead  of  having  plain  water 
for  the  foundation. 

Split  Pea  Soup. — One  pint  of  split  peas, 
previously  soaked  in  cold  water  over  night ; 
wash  in  cold  water  and  drain,  add  two-thirds 


of  a  medium-sized  carrot  sliced ;  one  onioE 
quartered,  with  a  clove  stuck  into  each  piece ; 
two  ounces  of  fat  salt  pork  cut  into  dice, 
Make  a  bouquet  of  the  following  herbs  ;  one 
sprig  of  parsley,  thyme,  celery  and  one  bay 
leaf  tied  together ;  if  not  obtainable  use  one 
half  teaspoonful  of  celery  salt.  Put  on  all  to 
gether  over  a  brisk  fire  with  three  quarts  of 
cold  water.  When  it  boils  up,  set  back  and 
allow  to  cook  slowly  about  three  hours  or 
until  done.  Season  with  salt  and  pepper, 
strain  and  serve. 

Green  Pea  Soup.— Wash  a  small  quarter 
of  lamb  in  cold  water,  and  put  it  into  a  soup- 
pot  with  six  quarts  of  cold  water ;  add  to  it 
two  tablespoonfuls  of  salt,  and  set  it  over  a 
moderate  fire — let  it  boil  gently  for  two 
hours,  then  skim  it  clear;  add  a  quart  of 
shelled  peas,  and  a  teaspoonful  of  pepper; 
cover  it,  and  let  it  boil  for  half  an  hour ; 
then  having  scraped  the  skins  from  a  quart 
of  small  young  potatoes,  add  them  to  the 
soup ;  cover  the  pot  and  Tet  it  boil  for  half 
an  hour  longer ;  work  quarter  of  a  pound  of 
butter  and  a  dessert  spoonful  of  flour  together, 
and  add  them  to  the  soup  ten  or  twelve 
minutes  before  taking  it  off  the  fire. 

Serve  the  meat  on  a  dish  with  parsley 
sauce  over,  and  the  soup  in  a  tureen. 

Turtle  Soup  from  Beans. — Soak  over 
night  one  quart  of  black  beans;  next  day 
boil  them  in  the  proper  quantity  of  water, 
say  a  gallon,  then  dip  the  beans  out  of  the 
pot  and  strain  them  through  a  colander. 
Then  return  the  flour  of  the  beans,  thus 
pressed,  into  the  pot  in  which  they  were 
boiled.  Tie  up  in  a  thin  cloth  some  thyme, 
a  teaspoonful  of  summer  savory  and  parsley, 
and  let  it  boil  in  the  mixture.  Add  a  table- 
spoonful  of  cold  butter,  salt  and  pepper. 
Have  ready  four  hard-boiled  yolks  of  eggs 
quartered,  and  a  few  force  meat  balls ;  add 
this  to  the  soup  with  a  sliced  lemon,  and 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


229 


uaif  a  glass  of  wine  just  before  serving  the 
soup. 

This  approaches  so  near  in  flavor  to  the 
real  turtle  soup  that  few  are  able  to  distin 
guish  the  difference. 

Philadelphia  Pepper  Pot. — Put  two 
pounds  of  tripe  and  four  calves'  feet  into  the 
soup-pot  and  cover  them  with  cold  water ; 
add  a  red  pepper,  and  boil  closely  until  the 
calves'  feet  are  boiled  very  tender ;  take  out 
the  meat,  skim  the  liquid,  stir  it,  cut  the 
tripe  into  small  pieces,  and  put  it  back  into 
the  liquid  ;  if  there  is  not  enough  liquid, 
add  boiling  water;  add  half  a  teaspoon- 
ful  of  sweet  marjoram,  sweet  basil,  and 
thyme,  two  sliced  onions,  sliced  potatoes, 
salt.  When  the  vegetables  have  boiled  until 
almost  tender,  add  a  piece  of  butter  rolled  in 
flour,  drop  in  some  egg  balls,  and  boil  fif 
teen  minutes  more.  Take  up  and  serve  hot. 

Macaroni  Soup. — To  a  rich  beef  or  other 
soup,  in  which  there  is  no  seasoning  other 
than  pepper  or  salt,  take  half  a  pound  of 
small  pipe  macaroni,  boil  it  in  clear  water 
until  it  is  tender,  then  drain  it  and  cut  it  in 
pieces  of  an  inch  length  ;  boil  it  for  fifteen 
minutes  in  the  soup  and  serve. 

Turkey  Soup. — Take  the  turkey  bones 
and  boil  three-quarters  of  an  hour  in  water 
enough  to  cover  them ;  add  a  little  summer 
savory  and  celery  chopped  hue.  Just  before 
serving,  thicken  with  a  little  flour  (browned), 
and  season  with  pepper,  salt,  and  a  small 
piece  of  butter.  This  is  a  cheap  but  good 
soup,  using  the  remains  of  cold  turkey  which 
might  otherwise  be  thrown  away. 

Tapioca  Cream  Soup. — One  quart  of  white 
stock;  one  pint  of  cream  or  milk;  one  onion; 
two  stalks  celery ;  one-third  of  a  cupful  of 
tapioca;  two  cupfuls  of  cold  water;  one  table- 
spoonful  of  butter ;  a  small  piece  of  mace  ; 
salt,  pepper.  Wash  the  tapioca  and  soak 
over  night  in  cold  water.  Cook  it  and  the 


stock  together  very  gently  foi  one  hourg 
Cut  the  onion  and  celery  into  small  pieces, 
and  put  on  to  cook  for  twenty  minutes  with 
the  milk  and  mace.  Strain  on  the  tapioca 
and  stock.  Season  with  salt  and  pepper, 
add  butter,  and  serve. 

Onion  Soup. — One  quart  of  milk,  six  large 
onions,  yolks  of  four  eggs,  three  tablespoon- 
fuls  of  butter,  a  large  one  of  flour,  one  cup 
ful  of  cream,  salt,  pepper.  Put  the  butter  in 
a  frying  pan.  Cut  the  onions  into  thin 
slices  and  drop  in  the  butter.  Stir  until 
they  begin  to  cook ;  then  cover  tight  and 
set  back  where  they  will  simmer,  but  not 
burn,  for  half  an  hour.  Now  put  the  milk 
on  to  boil,  and  then  add  the  dry  flour  to  the 
onions  and  stir  constantly  for  three  minutes 
over  the  fire ;  then  turn  the  mixture  into  the 
milk  and  cook  fifteen  minutes.  Rub  the 
soup  through  a  strainer,  return  to  the  fire, 
season  with  salt  and  pepper.  Beat  the  yolks 
of  the  eggs  well,  add  the  cream  to  them 
and  stir  into  the  soup.  Cook  three  minutes, 
stirring  constantly.  If  you  have  no  cream, 
use  milk,  in  which  case  add  a  tablespoonful 
of  butter  at  the  same  time.  Pour  over  fried 
croutons  in  a  soup  tt1-roen. 

This  is  a  refreshing  dish  when  one  is 
fatigued. 

Pea  Soup. — Put  a  quart  of  dried  peas  into 
five  quarts  of  water ;  boil  for  four  hours  and 
then  add  three  or  four  large  onions,  two 
heads  of  celery,  a  carrot,  two  turnips,  all 
cut  up  rather  fine.  Season  with  pepper  and 
salt.  Boil  two  hours  longer,  and  if  the  soup 
becomes  too  thick  add  more  water.  Strain 
through  a  colander  and  stir  in  a  tablespoon 
ful  of  cold  butter.  Serve  hot,  with  small 
pieces  of  toasted  bread  placed  in  the  bottom 
of  the  tureen. 

Noodles  for  Soup. — Beat   up   one    egg 

light,  add  a  pinch  of  salt,  and  flour  enough 

I  to  make  a  very  stiff  dough ;    roll  out  very 


COURTSHIP.  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


dim,  like  thin  pie  crust,  dredge  with  flour 
to  keep  from  sticking.  Let  it  remain  on  the 
bread  board  to  dry  for  an  hour  or  more ;  then 
roll  it  up  into  a  tight  scroll,  like  a  sheet  of 
music.  Begin  at  the  end  and  slice  it  into 
slips  as  thin  as  straws.  After  all  are  cut, 
mix  them  lightly  together,  and  to  prevent 
them  sticking,  keep  them  floured  a  little 
until  you  are  ready  to  drop  them  into  your 
soup,  which  should  be  done  shortly  before 
dinner,  for  if  boiled  too  long  they  will  go  to 
pieces. 

Force-Meat  Balls  for  Soup. — One  cup 
ful  of  cooked  veal  or  fowl  meat,  minced; 
mix  with  this  a  handful  of  fine  bread-crumbs, 
the  yolks  of  four  hard-boiled  eggs  rubbed 
smooth  together  with  a  tablespoonful  of 
milk;  season  with  pepper  and  salt;  add  a 
half  teaspoonful  of  flour,  and  bind  all  together 
with  two  beaten  eggs;  the  hands  to  be  well 
floured,  and  the  mixture  to  be  made  into  lit 
tle  balls  the  size  of  a  nutmeg  ;  drop  into  the 
soup  about  twenty  minutes  before  serving. 

Egg  Balls  for  Soup.— Take  the  yolks  of 
six  hard-boiled  eggs  and  half  a  tablespoon 
ful  of  wheat  floui,  rub  them  smooth  with 
the  yolks  of  two  raw  eggs  and  a  teaspoonful 
of  salt;  mix  all  well  together;  make  it  in 
balls,  and  drop  them  into  the  boiling  soup  a 
few  minutes  before  taking  it  up.  Used  in 
green  turtle  soup. 

Vermicelli  Soup  — Swell  quarter  of  a 
pound  of  vermicelli  in  a  quart  of  warm  water, 
then  add  it  to  a  good  beef,  veal,  lamb,  or 
chicken  soup  or  broth,  with  quarter  of  a 
pound  of  sweet  butter;  let  the  soup  boil  for 
fifteen  minutes  after  it  is  added. 

Spring  Vegetable  Soup. — Half  pint  green 
peas,  two  shredded  lettuces,  one  onion,  a 
small  bunch  of  parsley,  two  ounces  butter, 
the  yolks  of  three  <eggs,  one  pint  of  water, 
one  and  a  half  quarts  of  soup  stock.  Put  in 
\  stewpan  the  lettuce,  onion,  parsley  and 


butter,  with  one  pint  of  water,  and  let  them 
simmer  till  tender.  Season  with  salt  and 
pepper.  When  done  strain  oif  the  vegeta 
bles,  and  put  two-thirds  of  the  liquor  with 
the  stock.  Beat  up  the  yolks  of  the  eggs 
with  the  other  third,  toss  it  over  the  fire, 
and  at  the  moment  of  serving  add  this  with 
the  vegetables  to  the  strained-ofF  soup. 

Celery  Soup. — Celery  soup  may  be  made 
with  white  stock.  Cut  down  the  white  of 
half  a  dozen  heads  of  celery  into  little  pieces 
and  boil  it  in  four  pints  of  white  stock,  with  a 
quarter  of  a  pound  of  lean  ham  and  two 
ounces  of  butter.  Simmer  gently  for  a  full 
hour,  then  strain  through  a  sieve,  return  the 
liquor  to  the  pan,  and  stir  in  a  few  spoonfuls 
of  cream  with  great  care.  Serve  with  toast 
ed  bread  and,  if  liked,  thicken  with  a  little 
flour.  Season  to  taste. 

Tomato  Soup.  No.  i. — Place  in  a  kettle 
four  pounds  of  beef.  Pour  over  it  one  gallon 
of  cold  water.  Let  the  meat  and  water  boil 
slowly  for  three  hours,  or  until  the  liquor  is 
reduced  to  about  one-half.  Remove  the  meat 
and  put  into  the  broth  a  quart  of  tomatoes 
and  one  chopped  onion  ;  salt  and  pepper  to 
taste.  A  teaspoonful  of  flour  should  be  dis 
solved  and  stirred  in,  then  allowed  to  boil 
half  an  hour  longer.  Strain  and  serve  hot 
Canned  tomatoes  may  be  used  instead  of 
fresh  ones. 

Tomato  Soup.  No.  2. — Place  over  the 
fire  a  quart  of  peeled  tomatoes,  stew  them 
soft  with  a  pinch  of  soda.  Strain  it  so  that 
no  seeds  remain,  set  it  over  the  fire  again, 
and  add  a  quart  of  hot  boiled  milk ;  season 
with  salt  and  pepper,  a  piece  of  butter  the  size 
of  an  egg,  add  three  tablespoonfuls  of  rolled 
cracker,  and  serve  hot.  Canned  tomatoes 
may  be  used  in  place  of  fresh  ones. 

Tomato  Soup.  No.  3.— Peel  two  quarts 
of  tomatoes,  boil  them  in  a  sauce-pan  with 
an  onion  and  other  soup  vegetables ;  .-strain 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


nnd  add  a  level  tablespoonful  of  flour  dis 
solved  in  a  third  of  a  cup  of  melted  butter ; 
add  pepper  and  salt.  Serve  very  hot  over 
little  squares  of  bread  fried  brown  and  crisp 
in  butter. 

An  excellent  addition  to  a  cold  meat 
lunch. 

Mock  Turtle  Soup,  or  Calf's  Head. — 
Scald  a  well-cleaned  calf's  head,  remove  the 
brain,  tie  it  up  in  a  cloth,  and  boil  an  hour, 
or  until  the  meat  will  easily  slip  from  the 
bone ;  take  out,  save  the  broth ;  cut  it  in  small, 
square  pieces,  and  throw  them  into  cold 
water;  when  cool,  put  it  in  a  stewpan,  and 
cover  with  some  of  the  broth ;  let  it  boil 
until  quite  tender,  and  set  aside. 

In  another  stewpan  melt  some  butter,  and 
in  it  put  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  lean  ham, 
cut  small,  with  fine  herbs  to  taste ;  also  parsley 
and  one  onion ;  add  about  a  pint  of  the  broth; 
let  it  simmer  for  two  hours,  and  then  dredge 
In  a  small  quantity  of  flour ;  now  add  the 
remainder  of  the  broth,  and  a  quarter  bottle 
of  Madeira  or  sherry ;  let  all  stew  quietly  for 
ten  minutes  and  rub  it  through  a  medium 
sieve ;  add  the  calf's  head,  season  with  a  very 
little  cayenne  pepper,  a  little  salt,  the  juice  of 
one  lemon,  and  if  desired  a  quarter  teaspoon- 
ful  pounded  mace  and  a  dessert-spoon  sugar. 

Having  previously  prepared  force-meat 
balls,  add  them  to  the  soup,  and  five  minutes 
after  serve  hot. 

Fish  Soup. — Select  a  large,  fine  fic!i?  clean 
it  thoroughly,  put  it  over  the  fire  with  a  suf 
ficient  quantity  of  water,  allowing  for  each 
pound  of  fish  one  quart  of  water ;  add  an 
onion  cut  fine,  and  a  bunch  of  sweet  herbs. 
When  the  fish  is  cooked,  and  is  quite  taste 
less,  strain  all  through  a  colander,  return  to 
the  fires  add  some  butter,  salt  and  pepper  to 
taste.  A  small  tablespoonful  of  Worcester 
shire  sauce  may  be  added  if  liked.  Serve 
*»naail  squares  of  fried  bread  and  thin 


slices  of  lemon.     A  very  palatable  soup. 

Lobster  Soup,  or  Bisque. — Have  ready  3 
good  broth  made  of  three  pounds  of  veal  boil« 
ed  slowly  in  as  much  water  as  will  cover  it, 
till  the  meat  is  reduced  to  shreds.  It  must 
then  be  well  strained. 

Having  boiled  one  fine  middle-sized  lobster^ 
extract  all  the  meat  from  the  body  and  claws^ 
Bruise  part  of  the  coral  in  a  mortar,  and  also 
an  equal  quantity  of  the  meat  Mix  them 
well  together.  Add  inace,  cayenne,  salt  and 
pepper,  and  make  them  up  into  force-meat 
balls,  binding  the  mixture  with  the  yolk  of 
an  egg  slightly  beaten. 

Take  three  quarts  of  the  veal  broth,  and  put 
into  it  the  meat  of  the  lobster  cut  into  mouth- 
fuls.  Boil  it  together  about  twenty  minutes. 
Then  thicken  it  with  the  remaining  coral 
(which  you  must  first  rub  through  a  sieve,) 
and  add  the  force-meat  balls  and  a  little  but 
ter  rolled  in  flour.  Simmer  it  gently  for  ten 
minutes  but  do  not  let  it  come  to  a  boil,  as 
that  will  injure  the  color.  Serve  with  small 
piece  of  bread  fried  brown  in  butter. 

Oyster  Soup. — Scald  one  gallon  of  oysters 
in  their  own  liquor.  Add  one  quart  of  rich 
milk  to  the  liquor,  and  when  it  conies  to  a 
boil,  skim  out  the  oysters  and  set  aside.  Add 
the  yolks  of  four  eggs,  two  good  tablespoon- 
fuls  of  butter,  and  one  of  flour,  all  mixed 
well  together,  but  in  this  order — first,  the 
milk,  then,  after  beating  the  eggs,  add  a  lit 
tle  of  the  hot  liquor  to  them  gradually,  and 
stir  them  rapidly  into  the  soup.  Lastly,  add 
the  butter  and  whatever  seasoning  you  fancy 
besides  plain  pepper  and  salt,  which  must 
both  be  put  in  to  taste  with  caution.  Celery 
salt  most  persons  like  extremely;  otheis 
would  prefer  a  little  marjoram  and  thyme; 
others,  again,  mace  and  a  bit  of  onion.  Use 
your  own  discretion  in  this  regard. 

Clam  Soup.  (French  Style.) — Mince  two 
dozen  hard-shell  clams  very  fine.  Fry  half  i 


232 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


minced  onion  in  an  ounce  of  butter ;  add  to 
it  a  pint  of  hot  water,  a  pinch  of  mace,  four 
cloves,  one  allspice  and  six  whole  pepper 
corns.  Boil  fifteen  minutes  and  strain  into 
a  sauce-pan ;  add  the  chopped  clams  and  a 
pint  of  clam-juice  or  hot  water ;  simmer  slow 
ly  two  hours ;  strain  and  rub  the  pulp  through 
a  sieve  into  the  liquid.  Return  it  to  the 
sauce-pan  and  keep  it  lukewarm.  Boil  three 
half-pints  of  milk  in  a  sauce-pan  (previously 
wet  with  cold  water,  which  prevents  burning) 
and  whisk  it  into  the  soup.  Dissolve  a  tea- 
spoonful  of  flour  in  cold  milk,  add  it  to  the 
soup,  taste  for  seasoning ;  heat  it  gently  to 
near  the  boiling  point ;  pour  it  into  a  tureen 
previously  heated  with  hot  water,  and  serve 
with  or  without  pieces  of  fried  bread — called 
croutons  in  kitchen  French. 

Clam  Soup. — Twenty-five  clams  chopped 
fine.  Put  over  the  fire  the  liquor  that  was 
drained  from  them,  and  a  cup  of  water ;  add 
the  chopped  claims,  and  boil  half  an  hour ; 
then  season  to  taste  with  pepper  and  salt  and 
a  piece  of  butter  as  large  as  an  egg ;  boil  up 
again  and  add  one  quart  of  milk  boiling  hot, 
stir  in  a  tablespoon  of  flour  made  to  a  cream 
with  a  little  cold  milk,  or  two  crackers  rolled 
fine.  Some  like  a  little  mace  and  lempu 
juice  in  the  seasoning. 

To  Fry  Fish. — Most  of  the  smaller  fish 
(generally  termed  pan-fish)  are  usually  fried. 
Clean  well,  cut  off  the  head,  and,  if  quite 
large,  cut  out  the  backbon^  and  slice  the 
body  crosswise  into  five  or  six  pieces ;  season 
with  salt  and  pepper.  Dip  in  Indian  meal 
or  wheat  flour,  or  in  beaten  egg,  and  roll  in 
bread  or  fine  cracker  crumbs — trout  and 
perch  should  not  be  dipped  in  meal ;  put  into 
a  thick  bottomed  iron  frying-pan,  the  flesh 
side  down,  with  hot  lard  or  drippings;  fry 
slowly,  turning  when  lightly  browned. 

Pan  Fish. — Place  them  in  a  thick  bottom 
firying-pan  with  heads  all  one  way.  Fill  the 


spaces  with  smaller  fish.  When  they  art 
fried  quite  brown  and  ready  to  turn,  put  a 
dinner  plate  over  them,  drain  off  the  fat; 
then  invert  the  pan,  and  they  will  be  left 
unbroken  on  the  plate.  Put  the  lard  back 
into  the  pan,  and  when  hot  slip  back  the 
fish.  When  the  other  side  is  brown,  drain, 
turn  on  a  plate  as  before,  and  slip  them  on  a 
warm  platter,  to  be  sent  to  the  table.  Leav 
ing  the  heads  on  and  the  fish  a  crispy-brown, 
in  perfect  shape,  improves  the  appearance  if 
not  the  flavor.  Garnish  with  slices  of  lemon. 

Baked  Pickerel. — Carefully  clean  and 
wipe  the  fish,  and  lay  in  a  dripping-pan 
with  enough  hot  water  to  prevent  scorchingo 
A  perforated  sheet  of  tin,  fitting  loosely,  or 
several  muffin  rings,  may  be  used  to  keep  it 
off  the  bottom.  Lay  it  in  a  circle  on  its 
belly,  head  and  tail  touching,  and  tied,  or  as 
directed  in  note  on  fish ;  bake  slowly,  basting 
often  with  butter  and  water.  When  done, 
have  ready  a  cup  of  sweet  cream  or  ijch 
milk  to  which  a  few  spoons  of  hot  water 
have  been  added ;  stir  in  two  large  spoons  of 
melted  butter  and  a  little  chopped  parsley ; 
heat  all  by  setting  the  cup  in  boiling  water; 
add  the  gravy  from  the  dripping-pan,  and 
let  it  boil  up  once ;  place  the  fish  in  a  hot 
dish,  and  pour  ovei  it  the  sauce.  Or  an  egg 
sauce  may  be  made  with  drawn  butter ;  stir 
in  the  yolk  of  an  egg  quickly,  and  the.u  a 
teaspoon  of  chopped  parsley.  It  can  be 
stuffed  or  not,  just  as  you  please. 

Boiled  Salmon. — The  middle  slice  of 
salmon  is  the  best.  Sew  up  neatly  in  & 
mosquito-net  bag,  and  boil  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  to  the  pound  in  hot  salted  water. 
When  done,  unwrap  with  care,  and  lay 
upon  a  hot  dish,  taking  care  not  to  break  it 
Have  ready  a  large  cupful  of  drawn  butter, 
very  rich,  in  which  has  been  stirred  a  table- 
spoonful  of  minced  parsley  a  nd  the  juice  of 
a  lemon.  Pour  half  upon  *he  salmon,  and 


serve   the  rest  in    a    boat, 
parsley  and  sliced  eggs. 

Broiled  Salmon. — Cut  the  slices  one  inch 
thick,  and  season  them  with  pepper  and  salt ; 
butter  a  sheet  of  white  paper,  lay  each  slice 
on  a  separate  piece,  envelope  them  in  it  with 
their  ends  twisted ;  broil  gently  over  a  clear 
fire,  and  serve  with  anchovy  or  caper  sauce. 
When  higher  seasoning  is  required,  add  a 
few  chopped  herbs  and  a  little  spice. 

Steamed  Fish. — Secure  the  tail  of  the 
fish  in  its  mouth,  the  body  in  a  circle ;  pour 
over  it  half  a  pint  of  vinegar,  seasoned  with 
pepper  and  salt;  let  it  stand  an  hour  in  a 
cool  place ;  pour  off  the  vinegar,  and  put  it 
ill  a  steamer  over  boiling  water,  and  steam 
twenty  minutes,  or  longer  for  large  fish. 
When  the  meat  easily  separates  from  the 
bone  it  is  done.  Drain  well,  and  serve  on  a 
very  clean  white  napkin,  neatly  folded  and 
placed  on  the  platter;  decorate  the  napkin 
around  the  fish  with  sprigs  of  curled  parsley, 
or  with  fanciful  beet  cuttings,  or  alternately 
with  both. 

To  Broil  a  Shad. — Split  and  wash  the 
shad,  and  afterwards  dry  it  in  a  cloth.  Sea 
son  it  with  salt  and  pepper.  Have  ready  a 
bed  of  clear  bright  coals.  Grease  your  grid 
iron  well,  and  as  soon  as  it  is  hot,  lay  the 
shad  upon  it,  the  flesh  side  down ;  cover  with  a 
dripping-pan  and  broil  it  for  about  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  or  more,  according  to  the  thick 
ness.  Butter  it  well,  and  send  it  to  the 
table.  Covering  it  while  broiling  gives  it  a 
more  delicious  flavor. 

Baked  Shad. — Many  people  are  of  the 
opinion  that  the  very  best  method  of  cook 
ing  a  shad  is  to  bake  it.  Stuff  it  with  bread 
crumbs,  salt,  pepper,  butter  and  parsley,  and 
mix  this  up  with  the  beaten  yolk  of  egg; 
fill  the  fish  with  it,  and  sew  it  up  or  fasten  a 
string  around  it.  Pour  over  it  a  little  water 
and  some  butter,  and  bake  as  you  would  a 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 

Garnish   with 


233 


fowl.  A  shad  will  require  from  an  hour  to 
an  hour  and  a  quarter  to  bake.  Garnish 
with  slices  of  lemon,  water  cresses,  etc. 

Dressing  for  Baked  Shad. — Boil  up  the 
gravy  in  which  the  shad  was  baked,  put  in  a 
large  tablespoonful  of  catsup,  a  tablespoonfu! 
of  brown  flour  which  has  been  wet  with  cold 
water,  the  juice  of  a  lemon,  and  a  glass  of 
sherry  or  Madeira  wine.  Serve  in  a  sauce 
boat 

To  Cook  a  Shad  Roe.  Drop  into  boiling 
water,  and  cook  gently  for  twenty  minutes ; 
then  take  from  the  fire,  and  drain.  Butter  a 
tin  plate,  and  lay  the  drained  roe  upon  it 
Dredge  well  with  salt  and  pepper,  and  spread 
soft  butter  over  it ;  then  dredge  thickly  with 
flour.  Cook  in  the  oven  for  half  an  hour, 
basting  frequently  with  salt,  pepper,  flour, 
butter  and  water. 

Baked  White  Fish. — Thoroughly  clean 
the  fish  ;  cut  off  the  head  or  not,  as  preferred  ,• 
cut  out  the  back  bone  from  the  head  to 
within  two  inches  of  the  tail,  and  stuff  with 
the  following :  Soak  stale  bread  in  water, 
squeeze  dry ;  cut  in  pieces  a  large  onion,  fry 
in  butter,  chop  fine;  add  the  bread,  two 
ounces  of  butter,  salt,  pepper  and  a  little 
parsley  or  sage;  heat  through,  and  when 
taken  off  the  fire,  add  the  yolks  of  two  well- 
beaten  eggs  ;  stuff  the  fish  rather  full,  sew  up 
with  fine  twine,  and  wrap  with  several  coils 
of  white  tape.  Rub  the  fish  over  slightly 
with  butter ;  just  cover  the  bottom  of  a  bak 
ing  pan  with  hot  water,  and  place  the  fish  in 
it,  standing  back  upward,  and  bent  in  the 
form  of  an  S.  Serve  with  the  following 
dressing:  Reduce  the  yolks  of  two  hard' 
boiled  eggs  to  a  smooth  paste  with  twc 
tablespoonfuls  good  salad  oil ;  stir  in  half  a 
teaspoon  English  mustard,  and  add  pepper 
and  vinegar  to  taste. 

Halibut  Boiled.— The  cut  next  to  the  tail 
piece  is  the  best  to  boiL  Rub  a  little  salt 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


over  it,  soak  it  for  fifteen  minutes  in  vinegar 
and  cold  water,  then  wash  it  and  scrape  it 
until  quite  clean ;  tie  it  in  a  cloth,  and  boil 
slowly  over  a  moderate  fire,  allowing  seven 
minutes  boiling  to  each  pound  offish;  when 
it  is  half  cooked,  turn  it  over  in  the  pot ; 
serve  with  drawn  butter  or  egg  sacce. 

Boiled  halibut  minced  with  boiled  pota 
toes,  and  a  little  butter  and  milk,  makes  an 
excellent  breakfast  dish. 

Boiled  Salt  Mackerel. — Wash  and  clean 
off  all  the  brine  and  salt ;  put  it  to  soak  with 
the  meat  side  down,  in  cold  water  over  night ; 
in  the  morning  rinse  it  in  one  or  two  waters. 
Wrap  each  up  in  a  cloth  and  put  it  into  a 
kettle  with  considerable  water,  which  should 
be  cold ;  cook  about  thirty  minutes.  Take 
it  carefully  from  the  cloth,  take  out  the  back 
bones  and  pour  over  a  little  melted  butter 
and  cream ;  add  a  light  sprinkle  of  pepper. 
Or  make  a  cream  sauce  like  the  following  : 

Heat  a  small  cup  of  milk  to  scalding. 
Stir  into  it  a  teaspoonful  of  corn  starch  wet  up 
with  a  little  water.  When  this  thickens,  add 
two  tablespoonfals  of  butter,  pepper,  salt, 
and  chopped  parsley,  to  taste.  Beat  an  egg 
light,  pour  the  sauce  gradually  over  it,  put 
the  mixture  again  over  the  fire,  and  stir  one 
minute,  not  more.  Pour  upon  the  fish,  and 
serve  it  with  some  slices  of  lemon,  or  a  few 
sprigs  of  parsley  or  watei. -cresses,  on  the  dish 
as  a  garnish. 

Stewed  Codfish.  (Salt)— Take  a  thick, 
white  piece  of  salt  codfish,  lay  it  in  cold  wa 
ter  for  a  few  minutes  to  soften  it  a  little, 
enough  to  render  it  more  easily  picked  up. 
Shred  it  in  very  small  bits,  put  it  over  the  fire 
in  a  stew-pan  with  cold  water;  let  it  come 
to  a  boil,  turn  off  this  water  carefully,  and 
add  a  pint  of  milk  to  the  fish,  or  more  accord 
ing  to  quantity.  Set  it  over  the  fire  again 
and  let  it  boil  slowly  about  three  minutes, 
now  add  a  good-sized  piece  of  butter,  a  shake 


of  pepper  and  a  thickening  of  a  tablespoon- 
ful  of  flour  in  enough  cold  milk  to  make  a 
cream.  Stew  five  minutes  longer,  and  just 
before  serving  stir  in  two  well-beaten  eggs. 
The  eggs  are  an  addition  that  could  be  dis 
pensed  with,  however,  as  it  is  very  good 
without  them.  An  excellent  breakfast  dish, 

Codfish  a  la  Mode. — Pick  up  a  teacupful 
of  salt  codfish  very  fine,  and  freshen — the 
desiccated  is  nice  to  use ;  two  cups  mashed 
potatoes,  one  pint  cream  or  milk,  two  well- 
beaten  eggs,  half  a  cup  butter,  salt  and  pep 
per  ;  mix ;  bake  in  an  earthen  baking  dish 
from  twenty  to  twenty-five  minutes ;  serve 
in  the  same  dish,  placed  on  a  small  platter, 
covered  with  a  fine  napkin. 

Boiled  Fresh  Cod. — Sew  up  the  piece  of 
fish  in  thin  cloth,  fitted  to  shape;  boil  in  salt 
water  (boiling  from  the  first),  allowing  about 
fifteen  minutes  to  the  pound.  Carefully  un 
wrap,  and  pour  over  it  warm  oyster  sauce. 
A  whole  one  boiled  the  same. 

Fish  Fritters. — Take  a  piece  of  salt  cod 
fish,  pick-  it  up  very  fine,  put  it  into  a  sauce 
pan,  with  plenty  of  cold  water ;  bring  it  to  a 
boil,  turn  off  the  water,  and  add  another  of 
cold  water;  let  this  boil  with  the  fish  about 
fifteen  minutes,  very  slowly ;  strain  off  this 
water,  making  the  fish  quite  dry,  and  set 
aside  to  cool.  In  the  meantime,  stir  up  a 
batter  of  a  pint  of  milk,  four  eggs,  a  pinch  of 
salt,  one  large  teaspoonful  of  baking  powder 
in  flour  enough  to  make  thicker  than  batter 
cakes.  Stir  in  the  fish  and  fry  like  any  frit 
ters.  Very  fine  accompaniment  to  a  good 
breakfast 

Boiled  Salt  Codfish.  (New  England 
style.) — Cut  the  fish  into  square  pieces,  cover 
with  cold  water,  set  on  the  back  part  of  the 
stove;  when  hot,  pour  off  water  and  cover 
again  with  cold  water;  let  it  stand  about  foui 
hours  and  simmer,  not  boil ;  put  the  fish  oil 
a  platter,  then  cover  with  a  drawn-butter 


HELPS  *\)R   THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


gravy,  and  serve.    Many  cooks  prefer  soaking 
the  fish  over  night 

Scalloped  Lobster. — Butter  a  deep  dish, 
and  cover  the  bottom  with  fine  bread 
crumbs ;  put  on  this  a  layer  of  chopped 
lobster,  with  pepper  and  salt ;  so  on  altern 
ately  until  the  dish  is  filled,  having  crumbs 
on  top.  Put  on  bits  of  butter,  moisten  with 
milk,  and  bake  about  twenty  minutes. 

Baked  Crabs. — Mix  with  the  contents  of 
a  can  of  crabs,  bread-crumbs  or  pounded 
crackers.  Pepper  and  salt  the  whole  to 
taste ;  mince  some  cold  ham ;  have  the  bak 
ing-pan  well  buttered,  place  therein  first  a 
layer  of  the  crab  meat,  prepared  as  above, 
then  a  layer  of  the  minced  ham,  and  so  on, 
alternating  until  the  pan  is  filled.  Cover  the 
top  with  bread-crumbs  and  bits  of  butter,  and 
bake. 

Deviled  Crabs. — Half  a  dozen  fresh  crabs, 
boiled  and  minced,  two  ounces  of  butter,  one 
small  teaspoonful  of  mustard  powder ;  cay 
enne  pepper  and  salt  to  taste.  Put  the  meat 
into  a  bowl  and  mix  carefully  with  it  an 
equal  quantity  of  fine  bread-crumbs.  Work 
the  butter  to  a  light  cream,  mix  the  mustard 
well  with  it,  then  stir  in  very  carefully,  a 
handful  at  a  time,  the  mixed  crabs,  a  table- 
spoonful  of  cream,  and  crumbs.  Season  to 
taste  with  cayenne  pepper  and  salt ;  fill  the 
crab  shells  with  the  mixture,  sprinkle  bread 
crumbs  over  the  tops,  put  three  small  pieces 
of  butter  upon  the  top  of  each,  and  brown 
them  quickly  in  a  hot  oven.  They  will  puff 
in  baking  and  will  be  found  very  nice. 
Half  the  quantity  can  be  made.  A  crab- 
shell  will  hold  the  meat  of  two  crabs. 

Crab  Croquettes. — Pick  the  meat  of 
boiled  crabs  and  chop  it  fine.  Season  to 
taste  with  pepper,  salt  and  melted  butter. 
Moisten  it  well  with  rich  milk  or  cream, 
then  stiffen  it  slightly  with  bread  or  cracker- 
crumbs.  Add  two  or  three  well-beaten  eggs 


to  bind  the  mixture.  Form  the  croquette^ 
egg  and  bread-crumb  them  and  fry  them 
delicately  in  boiling  lard.  It  is  better  to 
use  a  wire  frying-basket  for  croquettes  of  all 
kinds. 

Fried  Oysters. — Take  large  oysters  from 
their  own  liquor  into  a  thickly  folded  napkin 
to  dry  them  ;  then  make  hot  an  ounce  each ' 
of  butter  and  lard,  in  a  thick-bottom  frying- 
pan.  Season  the  oysters  with  pepper  and 
salt,  then  dip  each  one  into  egg  and  cracker- 
crumbs  rolled  fine,  until  it  will  take  up  no 
more.  Place  them  in  the  hot  grease  and  fry 
them  a  delicate  brown,  turning  them  on 
both  sides  by  sliding  a  broad-bladed  knite 
under  them.  Serve  them  crisp  and  hot 

Some  prefer  to  roll  oysters  in  corn-meal 
and  others  use  flour,  but  they  are  much  more 
crisp  with  egg  and  cracker-crumbs. 

Oysters  Fried  in  Batter. — ^2'  pint  of 
oysters,  2  eggs,  ^  pint  of  milk,  sufficient 
flour  to  make  the  batter ;  pepper  and  salt  to 
taste ;  when  liked,  a  little  nutmeg  ;  hot  lard 

Scald  the  oysters  in  their  own  liquor, 
beard  them,  and  lay  them  on  a  cloth  to 
drain  thoroughly.  Break  the  eggs  into  a 
basin,  mix  the  flour  with  them,  add  the 
milk  gradually,  with  nutmeg  and  seasoning, 
and  put  the  oysters  in  a  batter.  Make  some 
iard  hot  in  a  deep  frying-pan ;  put  in  the 
oysters,  one  at  a  time ;  when  done,  take 
them  up  with  a  sharp-pointed  skewer,  and 
dish  them  on  a  napkin.  Fried  oysters  are 
frequently  used  for  garnishing  boiled  fish, 
and  then  a  few  bread-crumbs  should  be 
added  to  the  flour. 

Dry  Oyster  Stew. — Take  six  to  twelve 
large  oysters  and  cook  them  in  half  a  pint 
of  their  own  liquor ;  season  with  butter  and 
white  pepper;  cook  for  five  minutes,  stirring 
constantly.  Serve  in  hot  soup-plates  or  bowls. 

Boston  Fry. — Prepare  the  oysters  in  egg 
batter  and  fine  cracker  meal  j  fry  in  buttei 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


over  a  slow  fire  for  about  ten  minutes ;  cover 
the  hollow  of  a  hot  platter  with  tomato 
sauce;  place  the  oysters  in  it,  but  not  cov 
ering;  garnished  with  chopped  parsley 
sprinkled  over  the  oysters. 
,  Oyster  Fritters.  Select  plump,  good- 
sized  oysters;  drain  off  the  juice,  and  to  a 
cup  of  this  juice  add  a  cup  of  milk,  a  little 
salt,  four  well-beaten  eggs,  and  flour  enough 
to  make  batter  like  griddle-cakes. 

Envelop  an  oyster  in  a  spoonful  of  this 
batter  (some  cut  them  in  halves  or  chop 
them  fine),  then  fry  in  butter  and  lard, 
mixed  in  a  frying-pan  the  same  as  we  fry 
eggs,  turning  to  fry  brown  on  both  sides. 
Send  to  the  table  very  hot.  This  is  Del- 
monico's  receipt 

Most  cooks  fry  oyster  fritters  the  same  as 
crullers,  in  a  quantity  of  hot  lard,  but  this  is 
not  always  convenient;  either  way  they  are 
excellent 

Small  Oyster  Pies. — For  each  pie  take  a 
tin  plate  half  the  size  of  an  ordinary  dinner 
plate;  butter  it,  and  cover  the  bottom  with 
a  puff  paste,  as  for  pies ;  lay  on  it  five  or  six 
Select  oysters,  or  enough  to  cover  the  bottom ;  ' 
butter  them  and  season  with  a  little  salt  and 
plenty  of  pepper;  spread  over  this  an  egg 
batter,  and  cover  with  a  crust  of  the  paste, 
making  small  openings  in  it  with  a  fork. 
Bake  in  a  hot  oven  fifteen  to  twenty  minutes, 
or  until  the  top  is  nicely  browned, 

Clam  Fritters. — Take  fifty  small  or 
twenty-five  large  sand  clams  from  their 
shells;  if  large,  cut  each  in  two,  lay  them 
on  a  thickly  folded  napkin ;  put  a  pint  bowl 
of  wheat  flour  into  a  basin,  add  to  it  three 
well-beaten  eggs,  half  a  pint  of  sweet  milk, 
and  nearly  as  much  of  their  own  liquor; 
beat  the  batter  until  it  is  smooth  and  per 
fectly  free  from  lumps;  then  stir  in  the 
clams.  Put  plenty  of  lard  or  beef  fat  into  a 
thick-bottomed  frying-pan,  let  it  become  boil- 


ing  hot ;  put  in  the  batter  by  the  spoonful  ? 
let  them  fry  gently ;  when  one  side  is  a  deli 
cate  brown,  turn  the  other. 

Clam  Chowder. — The  materials  needed 
are  fifty  round  clams  (quahogs),  a  large  bowl 
of  salt  pork,  cut  up  fine,  the  same  of  onions, 
finely  chopped,  and  the  same  (or  more,  if  you 
desire),  of  potatoes  cut  into  eighths  or  six= 
teenths  of  original  size;  wash  the  clams 
very  thoroughly,  and  put  them  in  a  pot  with 
half  a  pint  of  irater;  when  the  shells  are 
open  they  are  done ;  then  take  them  from 
the  shells  and  chop  fine,  saving  all  the  clam 
water  for  the  chowder;  fry  out  the  pork 
very  gently,  and  when  the  scraps  are  a  good 
brown,  take  them  out  and  put  in  the  chopped 
onions  to  fry ;  they  should  be  fried  in  a 
frying-pan,  and  the  chowder-kettle  be  made 
very  clean  before  they  are  put  in  it,  or  the 
chowder  will  burn.  (The  chief  3ecret  in 
chowder-making  is  to  fry  the  onions  so 
delicately  that  they  will  be  missing  in  the 
chowder.) 

Roast  Turkey. — Select  a  young  turkey; 
remove  all  the  feathers  carefully,  singe  it 
over  a  burning  newspaper  on  the  top  of  the 
stove;  then  "draw"  it  nicely,  being  very 
careful  not  to  break  any  of  the  internal  or° 
gans;  remove  the  crop  carefully;  cut  off  the 
head,  and  tie  the  neck  close  to  the  body  by 
drawing  the  skin  over  it  Now  rins^.  the  in 
side  of  the  turkey  out  with  several  waters> 
and  in  the  next  to  the  last,  mix  a  teaspoon- 
ful  of  baking  soda ;  oftentimes  the  inside  of  a 
fowl  is  very  sour,  especially  if  it  is  not  fresh* 
ly  killed.  Soda,  being  cleansing,  acts  as  a 
corrective,  and  destroys  that  unpleasant  taste 
which  we  frequently  experience  in  the  dres 
sing  when  fowls  have  been  killed  for  some 
time.  Now,  after  washing,  wipe  the  turkey 
dry,  inside  and  out,  with  a  clean  cloth,  rub 
the  inside  with  some  salt,  then  stuff  the 
breast  and  body  with  "Dressing  for  Fowls," 


HELPS  FOR  THK  HOUSEHOLD. 


Then  sew  up  the  turkey  with  a  strong  thread, 
tie  the  legs  and  wings  to  the  body,  rub  it 
over  with  a  little  soft  butter,  sprinkle  over 
some  salt  and  pepper,  dredge  with  a  little 
flour ;  place  it  in  a  dripping  pan,  pour  in  a 
cup  of  boiling  water,  and  set  it  in  the  oven. 
Baste  the  turkey  often,  turning  it  around  occa- 
.sionally  so  that  every  part  will  be  uniformly 
baked.  When  pierced  with  a  fork  and  the 
liquid  runs  out  perfectly  clear,  the  bird  is 
done.  If  any  part  is  likely  to  scorch,  pin 
over  it  a  piece  of  buttered  white  paper.  A 
ftfteen-pound  turkey  requires  between  three 
and  four  hours  to  bake.  Serv*.  with  cran 
berry  sauce. 

Gravy  for  Turkey. — When  you  put  the 
turkey  in  to  roast,  put  the  neck,  hQ.art,  liver 
and  gizzard  into  a  stew-pan  with  a  pint  of 
water;  boil  until  they  become  quite  tender; 
take  them  out  of  the  water,  chop  the  heart 
and  gizzard,  mash  the  liver  and  throw  away 
the  neck;  return  the  chopped  heart,  gizzard 
and  liver  to  the  liquor  in  which  they  were 
stewed ;  set  it  to  one  side,  and  when  the  turk 
ey  is  done  it  should  be  added  to  the  gravy 
that  dripped  from  the  turkey,  having  first 
skimmed  off  the  fat  from  the  surface  of  the 
dripping-pan;  set  it  all  over  the  fire,  boil 
three  minutes  and  thicken  with  flour.  It 
will  not  need  brown  flour  to  color  the  gravy. 
The  garnishes  for  turkey  or  chicken  are  fried 
oysters,  thin  slices  of  ham,  slices  of  lemon, 
fried  sausages,  or  force-meat  balls,  also 
parsley. 

Dressing  or  Stuffing  for  Fowls. — For  an 

tight  or  ten  pound  turkey,  cut  the  brown 
crust  from  slices  or  pieces  of  stale  bread 
antil  you  have  as  much  as  the  inside  of  a 
pound  loaf;  put  it  into  a  suitable  dish,  and 
pour  tepid  water  (not  warm,  for  that  makes 
it  heavy)  over  it ;  let  it  stand  one  minute,  as 
it  soaks  very  quickly.  Now  take  up  a  hand 
ful  at  a  time  and  squeeze  it  hard  and  dry 


with  both  hands,  placing  it,  as  you  go  along* 
in  another  dish ;  this  process  makes  it  very 
light.  When  all  is  pressed  dry,  toss  it  all  up 
lightly  through  your  fingers;  now  add 
pepper,  salt, — about  a  teaspoonful — also  a 
teaspoonful  of  powdered  summer  savory,  the 
same  amount  of  sage,  or  the  green  herh 
minced  fine ;  add  half  a  cup  of  melted  butter, 
and  a  beaten  egg,  or  not.  Work  thoroughly 
all  together,  and  it  is  ready  for  dressing 
either  fowls,  fish  or  meats.  A  little  chopped 
sausage  in  turkey  dressing  is  considered  by 
some  an  improvement,  when  well  incorpor 
ated  with  the  other  ingredients.  For  geese 
and  ducks  the  stuffing  may  be  made  the 
same  as  for  turkey  with  the  addition  of  a 
few  slices  of  onion  chopped  fine. 

Broiled  Chicken  on  Toast. — Broil  the 
usual  way,  and  when  thoroughly  done  take 
it  up  in  a  square  tin  or  dripping-pan,  butter 
it  well,  season  with  pepper  and  salt,  and  set 
it  in  the  oven  for  a  few  minutes.  Lay  slices 
of  moistened  buttered  toast  on  a  platter; 
take  the  chicken  up  over  it,  add  to  the 
gravy  in  the  pan  part  of  a  cupful  of  cream, 
if  you  have  it ;  if  not,  use  milk.  Thicken 
with  a  little  flour  and  pour  over  the  chicken. 
This  is  considered  most  excellent 

Stewed  Duck. — Prepare  them  by  cutting 
them  up  the  same  as  chicken  for  fricassee. 
Lay  two  or  three  very  thin  slices  of  salt 
pork  upon  the  bottom  of  a  stew-pan ;  lay 
pieces  of  duck  upon  the  pork.  Let  them 
stew  slowly  for  an  hour,  closely  covered. 
Then  season  with  salt  and  pepper,  half  a  tea- 
spoonful  of  powdered  sage,  or  some  green 
sage  minced  fine ;  one  chopped  onion.  Stew 
another  half  hour  until  the  duck  is  tender. 
Stir  up  a  large  tablespoonful  of  brown  flour 
in  a  little  water  and  add  it  to  the  stew.  Let 
it  boil  up,  and  serve  all  together  in  one  dish, 
accompanied  with  green  peas. 

Duck  Pie. — Cut  all  the  meat  from  cold 


238 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


roast  ducks  ;  put  the  bones  and  stuffing  into 
cold  water ;  cover  them  and  let  boil ;  put 
the  meat  into  a  deep  dish ;  pour  on  enough 
of  the  stock  made  from  the  bones  to  moisten ; 
cover  with  pastry  slit  in  the  centre  with  a 
knife,  and  bake  a  light  Drown. 

Canvas-back  Duck. — The  epicurean  taste 
declares  that  this  special  kind  of  bird  re 
quires  no  spices  or  flavors  to  make  it  perfect, 
as  the  meat  partakes  of  the  flavor  of  the 
food  that  the  bird  feeds  upon,  being  mostly 
wild  celery ;  and  the  delicious  flavor  is  best 
preserved  when  roasted  quickly  with  a  hot 
fire.  After  dressing  the  duck  in  the  usual 
way,  by  plucking,  singeing,  drawing,  wipe  it 
with  a  wet  towel,  truss  the  head  under  the 
wing ;  place  it  in  a  dripping-pan,  put  it  in  the 
oven,  basting  often,  and  roast  it  half  an  hour. 
It  is  generally  preferred  a  little  underdone. 
Plc.ce  it  when  done  on  a  hot  dish,  season 
well  with  salt  and  pepper,  pour  over  it  the 
gravy  it  has  yielded  in  baking  and  serve  it 
immediately  while  hot 

Reed  Birds. — Pick  and  draw  them  very 
carefully,  salt  and  dredge  with  flour,  and 
roast  with  a  quick  fire  ten  or  fifteen  minutes. 
Serve  on  toast  with  butter  and  pepper.  You 
can  put  in  each  one  an  oyster  dipped  in 
butter  and  then  in  bread-crumbs  before  roast 
ing.  They  are  also  very  nice  broiled. 

Roast  Quail. — Rinse  well  and  steam  over 
boiling  water  until  tender,  then  dredge  with 
flour,  and  smother  in  butter ;  season  with 
salt  and  pepper  and  roast  inside  the  stove  ; 
thicken  the  gravy  ;  serve  with  green  grape 
jelly,  and  garnish  with  parsley. 

To  Roast  Partridges,  Pheasants,  Quails 
or  Grouse. — Carefully  cut  out  all  the  shot, 
wash  thoroughly  but  quickly,  using  soda  in 
the  water  ;  rinse  again,  and  dry  with  a  clean 
cloth.  Stuff  them  and  sew  them  up.  Skewer 
the  legs  and  wings  to  the  body,  larder  the 
breast  with  very  thin  slices  of  fat  salt  pork, 


place  them  in  the  oven,  and  baste  with 
butter  and  water  before  taking  up,  having 
seasoned  them  with  salt  and  pepper  ;  or  you 
can  leave  out  the  pork  and  use  only  butter, 
or  cook  them  without  stuffing.  Make  a 
gravy  of  the  drippings  thickened  with 
browned  flour. 

These  are  all  very  fine  broiled,  first  split 
ting  down  the  back,  placing  on  the  gridiron 
the  inside  down,  cover  with  a  baking  tin, 
and  broil  slowly  at  first  Serve  with  cream 
gravy. 

Broiled  Venison  Steak. — Venison  steaks 
should  be  broiled  over  a  clear  fire,  turning 
often.  It  requires  more  cooking  than  beef 
When  sufficiently  done,  season  with  salt  and 
pepper,  pour  over  two  tablespoonfuls  of  cur 
rant  jelly,  melted  with  a  piece  of  butter, 
Serve  hot  on  hot  r  lates. 

Delicious  steak.,  corresponding  to  the 
shape  of  mutton  chops,  are  cut  from  the 
loin. 

To  Keep  Meat  from  Flies. — Put  in  sack^ 
with  enough  straw  around  it  so  the  flies  can 
not  reach  through.  Three-fourths  of  a  yard 
of  yard-wide  muslin  is  the  right  size  for  the 
sack.  Put  a  little  straw  in  the  bottom,  therj 
put  in  the  ham  and  lay  straw  in  all  arounc. 
it ;  tie  it  tightly,  and  hang  it  in  a  cool,  dry 
place.  Be  sure  the  straw  is  all  around  the 
meat,  so  the  flies  cannot  reach  through  to 
deposit  the  eggs.  (The  sacking  must  be  done 
early  in  the  season  before  the  fly  appears.) 
Muslin  lets  the  air  in  and  is  much  better 
than  paper.  Thin  muslin  is  as  good  as 
thick,  and  will  last  for  years  if  washed  and 
laid  away  when  emptied. 

Roast  Beef. — One  very  essential  point  in 
roasting  beef  is  to  have  the  oven  well  heated 
when  the  beef  is  first  put  in ;  this  causes  the 
pores  to  close  up  quickly,  and  prevents  the 
escape  of  the  juices. 

Take  a  rib  piece  or  loin  roast  of  seven  01 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


239 


eight  pounds.  Wipe  it  thoroughly  all  over 
with  a  clean  wet  towel.  Lay  it  in  a  drip 
ping-pan,  and  baste  it  well  with  butter  or 
suet  fat.  Set  it  in  the  oven.  Baste  it  fre 
quently  with  its  own  drippings,  which  will 
make  it  brown  and  tender.  When  partly 
done,  season  with  salt  and  pepper,  as  it 
hardens  any  meat  to  salt  it  when  raw,  and 
draws  out  its  juices,  then  dredge  with  sifted 
flour  to  give  it  a  frothy  appearance.  It  will 
take  a  roast  of  this  size  about  two  hours' 
time  to  be  properly  done,  leaving  the  inside 
a  little  rare  or  red — half  an  hour  less  would 
make  the  inside  quite  rare.  Remove  the 
beef  to  a  heated  dish,  set  where  it  will  keep 
hot ;  then  skim  the  drippings  from  all  fat, 
add  a  tablespoonful  of  sifted  flour,  a  little 
pepper  and  a  teacupful  of  boiling  water. 
Boil  up  once  and  serve  hot  in  a  gravy  boat. 

Beefsteak. — Take  a  smooth,  thick-bot 
tomed  frying-pan,  scald  it  out  with  hot  water, 
and  wipe  it  dry ;  set  it  on  the  stove  or  range, 
and  when  very  hot,  rub  it  over  the  bottom 
with  a  rag  dipped  in  butter ;  then  place  your 
steak  or  chops  in  it,  turn  often  until  cooked 
through,  take  ap  on  a  warm  platter,  and 
season  both  sides  with  salt,  pepper  and  but 
ter.  Serve  hot. 

Many  prefer  this  manner  .  ;  cooking  steak 
rather  than  broiling  or  frying  in  a  quantity 
of  grease. 

Beefsteak  and  Onions. — Prepare  the  steak 
in  the  usual  way.  Have  ready  in  a  frying 
pan  a  dozen  onions  cut  in  slices  and  fried 
brown  in  a  little  beef  drippings  or  butter. 
Dish  your  steak,  and  lay  the  onions  thickly 
over  the  top.  Cover  and  let  stand  five 
minutes,  then  send  to  the  table  hot. 

Beefsteak  and  Oysters. — Broil  the  steak 
the  usual  way.  Put  one  quart  of  oysters 
with  very  little  of  the  liquor  into  a  stew-pan 
upon  the  fire ;  when  it  comes  to  a  boil,  take 
fcff  the  scum  that  may  rise,  stir  in  three 


ounces  of  butter  mixed  wich  a  tablespoonfu! 
of  sifted  flour,  let  it  boil  one  minute  until  it 
thickens,  pour  it  over  the  steak.  Serve  hot 

Spiced  Beef. — For  a  round  of  beef,  weigh" 
ing  twenty  or  twenty-four  pounds,  take  one 
quarter  of  a  pound  of  saltpetre,  one  quartet 
of  a  pound  of  coarse  brown  sugar,  two  pounds 
of  salt,  one  ounce  of  cloves,  one  ounce  of 
allspice,  and  half  an  ounce  of  mace;  pulver 
ize  these  materials,  mix  them  well  together, 
and  with  them  rub  the  beef  thoroughly  on 
every  part;  let  the  beef  lie  for  eight  or  ten 
days  in  the  pickle  thus  made,  turning  and 
rubbing  it  every  day;  then  tie  it  around 
with  a  broad  tape,  to  keep  it  in  shape ;  make 
a  coarse  paste  of  flour  and  water,  lay  a  little 
suet  finely  chopped  over  and  undar  the  beef, 
inclose  the  beef  entirely  in  the  paste,  and 
bake  it  six  hours.  When  you  take  the  beef 
from  the  oven,  remove  the  paste,  but  do  not 
remove  the  tape  until  yon,  are  ready  to  send 
it  to  the  table.  If  you  wish  to  eat  the  beef 
cold,  keep  it  well  covered  that  it  may  retain 
its  moisture.  This  i?  excellent 

Roast  Beef  Pie  with  Potato  Crust.— 
When  you  have  a  _vld  roast  of  beef,  cut  oft 
as  much  as  will  hilf  fill  a  baking-dish  suited 
to  the  size  of  your  family;  put  this  sliced 
beef  into  a  stew-pan  with  any  gravy  that 
you  may  have  abo  saved,  a  lump  of  butter, 
a  bit  of  sliced  onion,  and  a  seasoning  of 
pepper  and  salt,  with  enough  water  to  make 
plenty  of  gravy;  thicken  it,  too,  by  dredg 
ing  in  a  tablespoonful  of  flour ;  cover  it  up 
on  the  fire,  where  it  may  stew  gently,  but 
not  be  in  danger  of  burning.  Meanwhile 
there  must  be  boiled  a  sufficient  quantity  of 
potatoes  to  fill  up  your  baking-dish,  after  the 
stewed  meat  has  been  transferred  to  it.  The 
potatoes  must  be  boiled  done,  mashed  smooth, 
and  beaten  up  with  milk  and  butter,  as  if 
they  were  to  be  served  alone,  and  placed  in 
a  thick  layer  on  top  of  the  meat  Brush  it 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE, 


over  with  egg,  place  the  dish  in  an  oven, 
and  let  it  remain  there  long  enough  to  be 
brown.  There  should  be  a  goodly  quantity 
of  gravy  left  with  the  beef,  that  the  dish  be 
£Dt  dry  and  tasteless.  Serve  with  it  tomato 
sauce,  Worcestershire  sauce  or  any  other 
'land  that  you  prefer.  A  good,  plain  dish. 

Yorkshire  Pudding. — This  is  a  very  nice 
iccompaniment  to  a  roast  of  beef;  the  in 
gredients  are,  one  pint  of  milk,  four  eggs, 
white  and  yolks  beaten  separately,  one  tea- 
spoonful  of  salt,  and  two  teaspoonfuls  of 
baking  powder  sifted  through  two  cups  of 
flour.  It  should  be  mixed  very  smooth, 
about  the  consistency  of  cream.  Regulate 
your  time  when  you  put  in  your  roast,  so 
that  it  will  be  done  half  an  hour  or  forty 
minutes  before  dishing  up.  Take  it  from 
the  oven,  set  it  where  it  will  keep  hot  In 
the  meantime  have  this  pudding  prepared. 
Take  two  common  biscuit  tins,  dip  some  of 
clie  drippings  from  the  dripping-pan  into 
these  tins,  pour  half  of  the  pudding  into 
each,  set  them  into  the  hot  oven,  and  keep 
them  in  until  the  dinner  is  dished  up;  take 
thestf  puddings  out  at  the  last  moment  and 
send  to  the  table  hot  This  I  consider  much 
bette/  than  the  old  way  of  baking  the  pud 
ding  under  the  meat 

French  Stew. — Grease  the  bottom  of  an 
iron  pot,  and  place  in  it  three  or  four  pounds 
of  beef;  be  very  careful  that  it  does  not 
burn,  and  turn  it  until  nicely  browned.  Set 
a  muffin  ring  under  the  beef  to  prevent  its 
sticking.  Add  a  few  sliced  carrots,  one  or 
two  slioed  onions,  and  a  cupful  of  hot  water; 
keep  tovered,  and  stew  slowly  until  the 
vegetaUes  are  done.  Add  pepper  and  salt. 
If  you  \fish  more  gravy,  add  hot  water,  and 
thicken  with  flour.  Serve  on  a  dish  with 
the  vegetables. 

Meat  and  Potato  Croquettes. — Put  in  a 
stew-pan  an  ounce  of  butter  and  a  slice  of 


onion  minced  fine ;  when  this  simmer?,  add 
a  level  tablespoonful  of  sifted  flour ;  sf.ii  the 
mixture  until  it  becomes  smooth  and  frothy: 
then  add  half  of  a  cupful  of  milk,  some  season 
ing  of  salt  and  pepper;  let  all  boil,  stirring  it 
all  the  while.  Now  add  a  cupful  of  cold  meat 
chopped  fine  and  a  cupful  of  cold  or  hof 
mashed  potato.  Mix  all  thoroughly  and 
spread  on  a  plate  to  cool.  When  it  is  cool 
enough,  shape  it  with  your  hands  into  balls 
or  rolls.  Dip  them  in  beaten  egg  and  roll  in 
cracker  or  bread-crumbs.  Drop  them  into 
hot  lard  and  fry  about  two  minutes  a  delicate 
brown ;  take  them  out  with  a  skimmer  and 
drain  them  on  a  piece  of  brown  paper. 
Serve  immediately  while  hot  These  arc 
very  nice. 

Cold  rice  or  hominy  may  be  used  in  place 
of  the  potato ;  or  a  cupful  of  cold  fish  minced 
fine  in  place  of  the  meat 

Fricasseed  Tripe. — Cut  a  pound  of  tripe 
in  narrow  strips,  put  a  small  cup  of  water  01 
milk  to  it,  add  a  bit  of  butter  the  size  of  an 
egg,  dredge  in  a  large  teaspoonful  of  flourT 
or  work  it  with  the  butter ;  season  with  pep 
per  and  salt,  let  it  simmer  gently  for  half  an 
hour,  serve  hot.  A  bunch  of  parsley  cut 
small  and  put  with  it  is  an  improvement 
Some  put  in  oysters  five  minutes  before  dish 
ing  up. 

Broiled  Veal  Cutlets.  (Fine.)  Two  or 
three  pounds  of  veal  cutlets,  egg  and  bread 
crumbs,  two  tablespoonfuls  of  minced  savorv 
herbs,  salt  and  pepper  to  taste,  a  little  grated 
nutmeg. 

Cut  the  cutlets  about  three-quarters  of  an 
inch  in  thickness,  flatten  them,  and  brush 
them  over  with  the  yolk  of  an  egg ;  dip 
them  into  bread-crumbs  and  minced  herbs, 
season  with  pepper  and  salt,  and  fold  each 
cutlet  in  a  piece  of  white  letter  paper  well 
buttered ;  twist  the  ends,  and  broil  over  a 
clear  fire ;  when  done  remove  the  paper. 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


Cooked  this  way  they  will  retain  all  the 
flavor. 

Leg  of  Mutton  a  la  Venison. — Remove 
all  the  rough  fat  from  the  mutton  and  lay  it 
in  a  deep  earthen  dish ;  rub  into  it  thorough 
ly  the  following :  One  tablespoonful  of  salt, 
one  each  of  celery-salt,  brown  sugar,  black 
pepper,  English  mustard,  allsp^j-?,  and  some 
sweet  herbs,  all  powdered  and  mixed  ;  after 
which  pour  over  it  slowly  a  teacup  of  good 
vinegar,  cover  tightly,  and  set  in  a  cool  place 
four  or  five  days,  turning  it  and  basting  often 
with  the  liquid  each  day.  To  cook,  put  in 
a  kettle  a  quart  of  boiling  water,  place  over 
it  an  inverted  shallow  pan,  and  on  it  lay  the 
meat  just  as  removed  from  the  pickle  ;  cover 
the  kettle  tightly  and  stew  four  hours.  Do 
not  let  the  water  touch  the  meat  Acli?  a 
cup  of  hot  water  to  the  pickle  remaining  and 
baste  with  it  When  done,  thicken  the 
liquid  with  flour  and  strain  through  a  fine 
sieve,  to  serve  with  the  meat;  also  a  relish  of 
currant  jelly,  the  same  as  lor  venison. 

This  is  a  fine  dish  when  the  directions  are 
faithfully  followed. 

Lamb  Stew. — Cut  up  the  lamb  into  small 
pieces  (after  removing  all  the  fat),  say  about 
two  inches  square.  Wash  it  well  and  put  it 
over  the  fire,  with  just  enough  cold  water  to 
cover  it  well,  and  let  it  heat  gradually.  It 
should  stew  gently  until  it  is  partly  done ; 
then  add  a  few  thin  slices  of  salt  pork,  one 
or  two  onions  sliced  up  fine,  some  pepper 
and  salt  if  needed,  and  two  or  three  raw 
potatoes  cut  up  into  inch  pieces.  Cover  it 
closely  and  stew  until  the  meat  is  tender. 
Drop  in  a  few  made  dumplings,  made  like 
»hort  biscuit,  cut  out  very  small.  Cook  fif 
teen  minutes  longer.  Thicken  the  gravy 
with  a  little  flour  moistened  with  milk. 
Serve. 

Mutton  Pudding. — Line  a  two-quart  pud 
ding-basin  with  some  beef  suet  paste ;  fill  the 
16 


lining  with  thick  mutton  cutlets,  slightly 
trimmed,  or,  if  preferred,  with  steaks  cut 
from  the  leg;  season  with  pepper  and  salt, 
some  parsley,  a  little  thyme  and  two  slices  of 
onion  chopped  fine,  and  between  each  layer 
of  meat  put  some  slices  of  potatoes.  When 
the  pudding  is  filled,  wet  the  edges  of  the 
paste  around  the  top  of  the  basin,  and  covet 
with  a  piece  of  paste  rolled  out  the  size  of 
the  basin.  Fasten  down  the  edge  by  bearing 
all  around  with  the  thumb ;  and  then  with 
the  thumb  and  forefinger  twist  the  edges  ol 
the  paste  over  and  over  so  as  to  give  it  z 
corded  appearance.  This  pudding  can  be 
set  in  a  steamer  and  steamed,  or  boiled, 
The  time  required  for  cooking  is  about  three- 
hours.  -When  done,  turn  it  out  carefully  on 
a  platter  and  serve  with  a  rich  gravy  under 
it 

This  is  a  very  good  recipe  for  cooking 
small  birds. 

Beef  Hash. — Chop  cold  roast  beef,  or 
pieces  of  beefsteak ;  fry  half  an  onion  in  a 
piece  of  butter ;  when  the  onion  is  brown, 
add  the  chopped  beef;  season  with  a  little 
salt  and  pepper;  moisten  with  the  beef 
gravy,  if  you  have  any,  if  not,  with  sufficient 
water  and  a  little  butter;  cook  long  enough 
to  be  hot,  but  110  longer,  as  much  cooking 
toughens  the  meat  An  excellent  breakfast 
dish. 

Smothered  Beefsteak. — Take  thin  slices 
of  steak  from  the  upper  part  of  the  round  or 
one  large  thin  steak.  Lay  the  meat  out 
smoothly  and  wipe  it  dry.  Prepare  a  dress 
ing,  using  a  cupful  of  fine  bread-crumbs,, 
half  a  teaspoonful  of  salt,  some  pepper,  a  table 
spoonful  of  butter,  half  a  teaspoonful  of  sage, 
the  same  of  powdered  summer  savory,  and 
enough  milk  to  moisten  it  all  into  a  stiff 
mixture.  Spread  it  over  the  meat,  roll  it  up 
carefully,  and  tie  with  a  string,  securing  the 
ends  well.  Now  fry  a  few  thin  slices  of  salt 


242 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


pork  in  tlie  bottom  of  a  kettle  or  sauce-pan, 
and  into  the  fat  that  has  fried  out  of  this 
pork,  place  this  roll  or  rolls  of  beef,  and 
brown  it  on  all  sides,  turning  it  until  a  rich 
color  all  over,  then  add  half  a  pint  of  water, 
and  stew  until  tender.  If  the  flavor  of  onion 
Is  liked,  a  slice  may  be  chopped  fine  and 
added  to  the  dressing.  When  cooked  suffi 
ciently,  take  out  the  meat,  thicken  the 
gravy,  and  turn  over  it.  To  be  carved  cut 
ting  crosswise,  in  slices,  through  beef  and 
stuffing. 

Roast  Pig. — Take  a  young  pig  about  six 
weeks  old,  wash  it  thoroughly  inside  and 
outside,  and  in  another  water  put  a  teaspoon- 
ful  of  baking  soda,  and  rinse  out  the  inside 
again ;  wipe  it  dry  with  a  fresh  towel,  salt  the 
inside  and  stuff  it  with  the  prepared  dress 
ing  ;  make  it  full  and  plump,  giving  it  its 
original  size  and  shape.  Sew  it  up,  place  it 
in  a  kneeling  posture  in  the  dripping-pan, 
tying  the  legs  in  proper  position.  Pour  a 
little  hot  salted  water  into  the  dripping  pan, 
baste  with  butter  and  water  a  few  times  as 
the  pig  warms  ;  afterwards  with  gravy  from 
the  dripping-pan.  When  it  begins  to  smoke 
all  over  rub  it  often  with  a  rag  dipped  in 
melted  butter.  This  will  keep  the  skin 
from  cracking  and  it  still  will  be  crisp.  It 
will  take  from  two  to  three  hours  to  roast. 
Make  the  gravy  by  skimming  off  most  of 
the  grease  ;  stir  into  that  remaining  in  the 
pan  a  good  tablespoonful  of  flour,  turn  in 
water  to  make  it  the  right  consistency, 
season  with  pepper  and  let  all  boil  up  once. 
Strain,  and  if  you  like  wine  in  it,  add  half  a 
glass  ;  turn  it  into  a  gravy  boat.  Place  the 
pig  upon  a  large,  hot  platter,  surrounded 
with  parsley  or  celery  tops ;  place  a  green 
wreath  around  the  neck,  and  a  sprig  of  celery 
in  its  mouth.  In  carving,  cut  off  its  head 
first ;  split  down  the  back,  take  off  its  hams 
and  shoulders,  and  separate  the  ribs. 


Fresh  Pork  Pot-pie.— Boil  a  spare-rib, 
after  removing  all  the  fat  and  cracking  the 
bones,  until  tender ;  remove  the  scum  as  it 
rises,  and  when  tender  season  with  salt  and 
pepper ;  half  an  hour  before  time  for  serving 
the  dinner  thicken  the  gravy  with  a  little 
flour.  Have  ready  another  kettle,  into  which 
remove  all  the  bones  and  most  of  the  gravy, 
leaving  only  sufficient  to  cover  the  pot  half 
an  inch  above  the  rim  that  rests  on  the 
stove  ;  put  in  the  crust,  cover  tight,  and  boil 
steadily  forty-five  minutes.  To  prepare  the 
crust,  work  into  a  light  dough  a  small  bit  of 
butter,  roll  it  out  thin,  cut  it  in  small  square 
cakes,  and  lay  them  on  the  moulding-board 
until  very  light  No  steam  should  possibly 
escape  while  the  crust  is  cooking,  and  by  no 
means  allow  the  pot  to  cease  boiling,  and 
thus  injure  the  flavor. 

Boston  Pork  and  Beans. — Pick  over  care* 
fully  a  quart  of  small,  white  beans,  let  them 
soak  over  night  in  cold  water  ;  in  the  morn 
ing  wash  and  drain  in  another  water.  Put 
on  to  boil  in  plenty  of  cold  water  with  a 
piece  of  soda  the  size  of  a  bean ;  let  them 
come  to  a  boil,  then  drain  again,  cover  with 
water  once  more,  and  boil  them  fifteen 
minutes,  or  until  the  skin  of  the  beans  will 
crack  when  taken  out  and  blown  upon» 
Drain  the  beans  again,  put  them  into  an 
earthen  pot,  adding  a  tablespoonful  of  salt ; 
cover  with  hot  water,  place  in  the  centre  of 
a  pound  of  salt  pork,  first  scalding  it  with 
hot  water,  and  scoring  the  rind  across  the 
top,  a  quarter  of  an  inch  apart  to  indicate 
where  the  slices  are  to  be  cut  Place  the  pot 
in  the  oven,  and  bake  six  hours  or  longer. 
Keep  the  oven  a  moderate  heat  ;  add  hot 
water  from  the  tea-kettle  as  needed,  on  ac 
count  of  evaporation,  to  keep  the  beans 
moist.  When  the  meat  becomes  crisp  atid 
looks  cooked,  remove  it,  as  too  long  baking 
the  pork  destroys  its  solidity. 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


243 


Head  Cheese. — Boil  the  forehead,  ears  and 
feet,  and  nice  scraps  trimmed  from  the  hams 
of  a  fresh  pig,  until  the  meat  will  almost 
drop  from  the  bones.  Then  separate  the 
meat  from  the  bones,  put  it  in  a  large  chop- 
ping-bowl,  and  season  with  pepper,  salt,  sage 
and  summer  savory.  Chop  it  rather  coarse 
ly  ;  put  it  back  in  the  same  kettle  it  was  boil- 
..  ed  in,  with  just  enough  of  the  liquor  in 
which  it  was  boiled  to  prevent  its  burning ; 
warm  it  through  thoroughly,  mixing  it  well 
together.  Now  pour  it  into  a  strong  muslin 
bag,  press  the  bag  between  two  flat  surfaces, 
with  a  heavy  weight  on  top ;  when  cold  and 
solid  it  can  be  cut  in  slices. 

To  Cure  English  Bacon. — This  process  is 
called  the  "  dry  cure,"  and  is  considered  far 
preferable  to  the  New  England  or  Yankee 
style  of  putting  prepared  brine  or  pickle  over 
the  meat.  First  the  hog  should  not  be  too 
large  or  too  fat,  weighing  not  over  two  hun 
dred  pounds  ;  then  after  it  is  dressed  and 
cooled  cut  it  up  into  proper  pieces ;  allow  to 
every  hundred  pounds  a  mixture  of  four 
quarts  of  common  salt,  one  quarter  of  a 
pound  of  saltpetre  and  four  pounds  of  sugar. 
Rub  this  preparation  thoroughly  over  and 
into  each  piece,  then  place  them  into  a  tight 
tub  or  suitable  cask ;  there  will  a  brine  form 
of  itself,  from  the  juices  of  the  meat,  enough 
at  least  to  baste  it  with,  which  should  be 
done  two  or  three  times  a  week ;  turning 
each  piece  every  time. 

In  smoking  this  bacon,  the  sweetest  flavor 
is  derived  from  black  birch  chips,  but  if  these 
are  not  to  be  had,  the  next  best  wood  is 
hickory ;  the  smoking  with  corn-cobs  imparts 
a  rank  flavor  to  this  bacon,  which  is  very 
distasteful  to  English  people  visiting  this 
country.  It  requires  three  weeks  or  a  month 
to  smoke  this  bacon  properly. 

Saratoga  Chips. — Peel  good-sized  pota 
toes,  and  slice  them  as  evenly  as  possible. 


Drop  them  into  ice-water ;  have  a  kettle  of 
very  hot  lard,  as  for  cakes  ;  put  a  few  at  a 
time  into  a  towel  and  shake,  to  dry  the  mois 
ture  out  of  them,  and  then  drop  them  into 
the  boiling  lard.  Stir  them  occasionally, 
and  when  of  a  light  brown  take  them  out 
with  a  skimmer,  and  they  will  be  crisp  and 
not  greasy.  Sprinkle  salt  over  them  while 
hot. 

Potato  Croquettes. — Take  two  cups  of  cold 
mashed  potato,  season  with  a  pinch  of  salt, 
pepper  and  a  tablespoonful  of  butter.  Beat 
up  the  whites  of  two  eggs,  and  work  all  to 
gether  thoroughly  ;  make  it  into  small  balls 
slightly  flattened,  dip  them  in  the  beaten 
yolks  of  the  eggs,  then  roll  either  in  flour  or 
cracker-crumbs  ;  fry  the  same  as  fish-balls 
This  is  Delmonico's  receipt. 

Potatoes  a  la  Delmonico. — Cut  the  pota' 
toes  with  a  vegetable  cutter  into  small  balls 
about  the  size  of  a  marble ;  put  them  into  a 
stew-pan  with  plenty  of  butter,  and  a  good 
sprinkling  of  salt;  keep  the  sauce-pan  covered 
and  shake  occasionally  until  they  are  quite 
done  which  will  be  in  about  an  hour. 

Fried  Potatoes  with  Eggs. — Slice  cold 
boiled  potatoes,  and  fry  in  good  butter  until 
brown ;  beat  up  one  or  two  eggs,  and  stii 
into  them  just  as  you  dish  them  for  the  table 
do  not  leave  them  a  moment  on  the  fire  af 
ter  the  eggs  are  in,  for  if  they  harden  they 
are  not  half  so  nice  ;  one  egg  is  enough  for 
three  or  four  persons,  unless  they  are  very 
fond  of  potatoes ;  if  they  are,  have  plenty,  and 
put  in  two. 

Baked  Sweet  Potatoes. — Wash  and  scrape 
them,  split  them  lengthwise.  Steam  or  boil 
them  until  nearly  done.  Drain,  and  put 
them  in  a  baking-dish,  placing  over  them 
lumps  of  butter,  pepper  and  salc-;  sprinkle 
thickly  with  sugar,  and  bak~  in  the  oven  to 
a  nice  brow* 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


Hubbard  squash  is  nice  cooked  in  the  same 
manner. 

Onions  Boiled. — The  white  silver-skins 
are  the  best  species.  To  boil  them  peel  off 
the  outside,  cut  off  the  ends,  put  them  into 
cold  water  and  into  a  stew-pan,  and  let  them 
scald  two  minutes;  then  tuin  off  that  water, 
pour  on  cold  water,  salted  a  little,  and  boil 
slowly  till  tender,  which  will  be  in  thirty  or 
forty  minutes,  according  to  their  size ;  when 
lone  drain  them  quite  dry,  pour  a  little 
tnelted  butter  over  them,  sprinkle  them  with 
pepper  and  salt  and  serve  hot. 

An  excellent  way  to  peel  onions  so  as  not 
to  affect  the  eyes  is  to  take  a  pan  full  of 
".vater,  and  hold  and  peel  them  under  water. 

Onions  Stewed. — Cook  the  same  as  boiled 
•Onions,  and  when  quite  done  turn  off  all  the 
water ;  add  a  teacupful  of  milk,  a  piece  of 
butter  the  size  of  an  egg,  pepper  and  salt  to 
taste,  a  tablespoonful  of  flour  stirred  to  a 
cream ;  let  all  boil  up  once  and  serv*  in  a 
vegetable  dish,  hot. 

Onions  Baked. — Use  the  large  Spanish 
onion,  as  best  for  this  purpose ;  wash  them 
clean,  but  do  not  peel,  and  put  into  a  sauce 
pan,  with  slightly  salted  w  ater ;  boil  an  hour, 
replacing  the  water  with  more  boiling  hot  as 
it  evaporates ;  turn  off  the  water,  and  lay  the 
onions  on  a  cloth  to  dry  them  well;  roll 
each  one  in  a  piece  of  buttered  tissue  paper, 
twisting  it  at  the  top  to  keep  it  on,  and  bake 
in  a  slow  oven  about  an  hour,  or  until  tender 
all  through ;  peel  them ;  place  in  a  deep  dish, 
and  brown  slightly,  basting  well  with  butter 
for  fifteen  minutes ;  season  with  salt  and 
pepper,  and  pour  some  melted  butter  over 
them. 

Fried  Onions. — Peel,  slice,  and  fry  them 
brown  in  equal  quantities  of  butter  and  lard 
or  nice  drippings;  cover  until  partly  soft, 
remove  the  cover  and  brown  them  ;  salt  and 
pepper. 


Cauliflower. — When  cleaned  and  washed, 
drop  them  into  boiling  water,  into  which 
ycu  have  put  salt  and  a  teaspoonful  of  flour, 
or  a  slice  of  bread ;  boil  till  tender ;  take  off, 
drain ;  and  dish  them  ;  serve  with  a  sauce 
spread  over,  and  made  with  melted  butter, 
salt,  pepper,  grated  nutmeg,  chopped  parsley 
and  vinegar. 

Another  way  is  to  make  a  white  sauce 
(see  Sauces),  and  when  the  cauliflowers  are 
dished  as  above,  turn  the  white  sauce  over, 
and  serve  warm.  They  may  also  be  served  in 
the  same  way  with  a  milk,  cream,  or  tomato 
sauce,  or  with  brown  butter. 

It  is  ••"*.  very  good  plan  to  loosen  the  leaves 
of  a  ii^ad  of  cauliflower,  and  let  lie,  the  top 
downward  in  a  pan  of  cold  salt  water,  to  re 
move  any  insects  that  might  be  hidden  be 
tween  them. 

Fried  Cauliflower. — Boil  the  cauliflowers 
till  about  half  done.  Mix  two  tablespoonfuls 
of  flour  with,  two  yolks  of  eggs,  then  add 
water  enough  to  make  a  rather  thin  paste ; 
add  salt  to  taste ;  the  two  whites  are  beaten 
till  stiff,  and  then  mixed  with  the  yolks, 
flour  and  water.  Dip  each  branch  of  the 
cauliflowers  into  the  mixture,  and  fry  them 
in  hot  fat.  When  done,  take  them  off  with 
a  skimmer,  turn  into  a  colander,  dust  salt  all 
over,  and  serve  warm.  Asparagus,  celery, 
egg-plant,  oyster-plant  are  all  fine  when  fried 
in  this  manner. 

Steamed  Cabbage. — Take  a  sound,  solid 
cabbage,  and  with  a  large  sharp  knife  shave  it 
very  finely.  Put  it  in  a  sauce-pan,  pour  in 
half  a  teacupful  of  water  or  just  enough  tc 
keep  it  from  burning  ;  cover  it  very  tightly, 
so  as  to  confine  the  steam  ;  watch  it  closely, 
add  a  little  water  now  and  then,  until  it  be 
gins  to  be  tender ;  then  put  into  it  a  large 
tablespoonful  of  butter ;  salt  and  pepper  to 
taste,  dish  it  hot  If  you  prefer  to  give  it  a 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


245 


tart  taste,  just  before  taking  from  trie  fire  add 
a  third  of  a  cup  of  good  vinegar. 

Ladies'  Cabbage — Boil  a  firm  white  cab 
bage  fifteen  minutes,  changing  the  water 
then  for  more  from  the  boiling  tea-kettle. 
When  tender,  drain  and  set  aside  until  per- 
pectly  cold.  Chop  fine  and  add  two  beaten 
eggs,  a  tablespoonful  of  butter,  pepper,  salt, 
three  tablespoonfuls  of  rich  milk  or  cream. 
Stir  all  well  together,  and  bake  in  a  buttered 
pudding-dish  until  brown.  Serve  very  hot. 
This  dish  resembles  cauliflower  and  is  very 
digestible  and  palatable. 

Sour-crout. — Barrels  having  held  wine  or 
vinegar  are  used  to  prepare  sour-crout  in.  It 
is  better,  however,  to  have  a  special  barrel 
for  the  purpose.  Strasburg,  as  well  as  all 
Alsace,  has  a  well-acquired  fame  for  prepar 
ing  the  cabbages.  They  slice  very  white 
and  firm  cabbages  in  fine  shreds  with  a 
machine  made  for  the  purpose.  At  the  bot 
tom  of  a  small  barrel  they  place  a  layer  of 
coarse  salt,  and  alternately  layers  of  cabbage 
and  salt,  being  careful  to  have  one  of  salt  on 
the  top.  As  each  layer  of  cabbage  is  added, 
it  must  be  pressed  down  by  a  large  and 
heavy  pestle,  and  fresh  layers  are  added  as 
soon  as  the  juice  floats  on  the  surface.  The 
cabbage  must  be  seasoned  with  a  few  grains 
of  coriander,  juniper  berries,  etc.  When  the 
barrel  is  full  it  must  be  put  in  a  dry  cellar, 
covered  with  a  cloth,  under  a  plank,  and  on 
this  heavy  weights  are  placed.  At  the  end 
of  a  few  days  it  will  begin  to  ferment,  dur 
ing  which  time  the  pickle  must  be  drawn  off 
and  replaced  by  fresh,  until  the  liquor  be 
comes  clear.  This  should  be  done  every 
da}'.  Renew  the  cloth  and  wash  the  cover, 
put  the  weights  back,  and  let  stand  for  a 
month.  By  that  time  the  sour-crout  will  be 
ready  for  use.  Care  must  be  taken  to  let 
the  least  possible  air  enter  the  sour-crout,  and 
to  have  the  cover  perfectly  clean.  Each 


time  the  barrel  has  to  be  opened  it  must  be 
properly  closed  again.  These  precautions 
must  not  oe  neglected. 

This  is  often  fried  in  the  same  manner  as 
fried  cabbage,  excepting  it  is  first  boiled  un 
til  soft  in  just  water  enough  to  cook  it,  then 
fry  and  add  vinegar. 

Scalloped  Tomatoes. — Butter  the  sides 
and  bottom  of  a  pudding-dish.  Put  a  layer 
of  bread-crumbs  in  the  bottom ;  on  them  put 
a  layer  of  sliced  tomatoes  ;  sprinkle  with 
salt,  pepper  and  some  bits  of  butter,  and  a 
very  little  white  sugar.  Then  repeat  with 
another  layer  of  crumbs,  another  of  tomato, 
and  seasoning  until  full,  having  the  top  layer 
of  slices  of  tomato,  with  bits  of  butter  on 
each.  Bake  covered  until  well  cooked 
through ;  remove  the  cover  and  brown 
quickly. 

Stuffed  Egg-plant. — Cut  the  egg-plant  in 
two  ;  scrape  out  all  the  inside  and  put  it  in 
a  sauce-pan  with  a  little  minced  ham  ;  cove: 
with  water  and  boil  until  soft ;  drain  off  the 
water;  add  two  tablespoonfuls  of  grated 
crumbs,  a  tablespoonful  of  butter,  half  a 
minced  onion,  salt  and  pepper ;  stuff  each 
half  of  the  hull  with  the  mixture;  add  a 
small  lump  of  butter  to  each,  and  bake  fifteen 
minutes. 

Minced  veal  or  chicken  in  the  place  of 
ham,  is  equally  as  good,  and  many  prefer  it 

String  Beans. — Break  off  the  end  that 
grew  to  the  vine,  drawing  off  at  the  same 
time  the  string  upon  the  edge ;  repeat  the 
same  process  from  the  other  end ;  cut  them 
with  a  sharp  knife  into  pieces  half  an  inch 
long,  and  boil  them  in  just  enough  water  to 
cover  them.  They  usually  require  one 
hour's  boiling ;  but  this  depends  upon  their 
age  and  freshness.  After  they  have  boiled 
until  tender,  and  the  water  boiled  nearly  out, 
add  pepper  and  salt,  a  tablespoonful  of 
butter,  and  a  half  a  cup  of  cream. 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


Many  prefer  to  drain  them  before  adding 
the  seasoning  ;  in  that  case  they  lose  the 
real  goodness  of  the  vegetable,  which  is  apt 
to  be  seasoned  only  in  spots. 

Beets  Boiled. — Select  small-sized,  smooth 
roots.  They  should  be  carefully  washed,  but 
not  cut  before  boiling,  as  the  juice  will 
escape  and  the  sweetness  of  the  vegetable  be 
impaired,  leaving  it  white  and  hard.  Put 
them  into  boiling  water,  and  boil  them  until 
tender;  which  requires  often  from  one  to 
two  hours.  Do  not  probe  them,  but  press 
them  with  the  finger  to  ascertain  if  they  are 
sufficiently  done.  When  satisfied  of  this, 
take  them  up,  and  put  them  into  a  pan  of 
cold  water,  and  slip  off  the  outside.  Cut 
them  into  thin  slices,  and  while  hot  season 
with  butter,  salt,  a  little  pepper  and  very 
sharp  vinegar. 

Baked  Beets. — Beets  retain  their  sugary, 
delicate  flavor  to  perfection  if  they  are  baked 
instead  of  boiled.  Turn  them  frequently 
while  in  the  oven,  using  a  knife,  as  the  fork 
allows  the  juice  to  run  out  When  done 
remove  the  skin,  and  serve,  with  butter,  salt 
and  pepper  on  the  slices. 

Succotash.— Take  a  pint  of  fresh  shelled 
Lima  beans,  or  any  large  fresh  beans,  put 
them  in  a  pot  with  cold  water,  rather  more 
than  will  cover  them.  Scrape  the  kernels 
from  twelve  ears  of  young  sweet  corn ;  put 
the  cobs  in  with  the  beans,  boiling  from 
half  to  three-quarters  of  an  hour.  Now  take 
out  the  cobs  and  put  in  the  scraped  corn ; 
boil  again  fifteen  minutes,  then  season  with 
salt  and  pepper  to  taste,  a  piece  of  butter  the 
size  of  an  egg,  and  half  a  cup  of  cream. 
Serve  hot. 

Green  Corn. — Green  corn  left  over  from 
dinner  makes  a  nice  breakfast  dish,  prepared 
as  follows :  Cut  the  corn  from  the  ccbv  and 
put  into  a  bowl  with  a  cup  of  milk  to  every 
cup  -of  corn,  a  half  cup  of  floiirt  one  egg,  a 


pinch  of  salt,  and  a  little  butter ;  mix  well 
into  a  thick  batter,  and  fry  in  small  cakes  in 
very  hot  butter.  Serve  with  plenty  of  buttei 
and  powdered  sugar. 

Corn  Pudding. — This  is  a  Virginia  disho 
Scrape  the  substance  out  of  twelve  ears  of 
tender,  green,  uncooked  corn  (it  is  better 
scraped  than  grated,  as  you  do  not  get  those 
husky  particles  which  you  cannot  avoid  with 
a  grater) ;  add  yolks  and  whites,  beaten  sepa 
rately,  of  four  eggs,  a  teaspoonful  of  sugar, 
the  same  of  flour  mixed  in  a  tablespoonful  of 
butter,  a  small  quantity  of  salt  and  pepper, 
and  one  pint  of  milk.  Bake  about  half  or 
three-quarters  of  an  hour. 

Asparagus. — Scrape  the  stems  of  the 
asparagus  lightly,  but  very  clean;  throw 
them  into  cold  water,  and  when  they  are  all 
scraped  and  very  clean,  tie  them  in  bunches 
of  equal  size ;  cut  the  large  ends  evenly,  that 
the  stems  may  be  all  of  the  same  length,  and 
put  the  asparagus  into  plenty  of  boiling 
water,  well  salted.  While  it  is  boiling,  cut 
several  slices  of  bread  half  an  inch  thick, 
pare  off  the  crust,  and  toast  It  a  delicate 
brown  on  both  sides.  When  the  stalks  of 
asparagus  are  tender  (it  will  usually  cook  in 
twenty  to  forty  minutes),  lift  it  out  directly, 
or  it  will  lose  both  its  color  and  flavor,  and 
will  also  be  liable  to  break ;  dip  the  toast 
quickly  into  the  liquor  in  which  it  was 
boiled,  and  dish  the  vegetable  upon  it,  the 
heads  all  lying  one  way.  Pour  over  white 
sauce,  or  melted  butter. 

Asparagus  With  Eggs. — Boil  a  bunch  of 
asparagus  twenty  minutes ;  cut  off  the  tender 
tops  and  lay  them  in  a  deep  pie  plate,  butter- 
iug,  salting  and  peppering  well.  Beat  up 
four  eggs,  the  yolks  and  whites  separately, 
to  a  stiff  froth ;  add  two  tablespoonfuls  of 
milk  or  cream,  a  tablespoonful  of  warm  but 
ter,  pepper  and  salt  to  taste.  Pour  evenly 
over  the  asparagus  mixture.  Bake  eight 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD, 
the  eggs  are  set      Very 


247 


minutes  or  until 
good. 

Green  Peas. — Shell  the  peas  and  wash  in 
cold  water.  Put  in  boiling  water  just  enough 
to  cover  them  well,  and  keep  them  from 
burning ;  boil  from  twenty  minutes  to  half 
an  hour,  when  the  liquor  should  be  nearly 
boiled  out ;  season  with  pepper  and  salt,  and 
a  good  allowance  of  butter ;  serve  very  hot. 

This  is  a  very  much  better  way  than  cook 
ing  in  a  larger  quantity  of  water,  and  drain 
ing  off  the  liquor,  as  that  diminishes  the 
sweetness,  and  much  of  the  fine  flavor  of 
the  peas  is  lost.  The  salt  should  never  be 
put  in  the  peas  before  they  are  tender,  unless 
very  young,  as  it  tends  to  harden  them. 

Stewed  Green  Peas. — Into  a  sauce-pan 
of  boiling  water  put  two  or  three  pints  of 
young  green  peas,  and  when  nearly  done 
and  tender,  drain  in  a  colander  dry ;  then 
melt  two  ounces  of  butter  in  two  of  flour ; 
stir  well,  and  boil  five  minutes  longer;  should 
the  pods  be  quite  clean  and  fresh,  boil  them 
first  in  the  water,  remove,  and  put  in  the 
peas.  The  Germans  prepare  a  very  palatable 
dish  of  sweet  young  pods  alone,  by  simply 
stirring  in  a  little  butter  with  some  savory 
herbs. 

Boiled  Winter  Squash. — This  is  much 
finer  than  the  summer  squash.  It  is  fit  to  eat 
in  August,  and,  in  a  dry  warm  place,  can  be 
kept  well  all  winter.  The  color  is  a  very 
bright  yellow.  Pare  it,  take  out  the  seeds, 
cut  it  in  pieces,  and  stew  it  slowly  until  quite 
soft,  in  a  very  little  water.  Afterwards  drain, 
squeeze,  and  press  it  well ;  then  mash  it  with 
a  very  little  butter,  pepper  and  salt.  They 
will  boil  in  from  twenty  to  forty  minutes. 

Baked  Winter  Squash. — Cut  open  the 
squash,  take  out  the  seeds,  and  without 
paring  cut  it  up  into  large  pieces ;  put  the 
pieces  on  tins  or  a  dripping-pan,  place  in  a 
moderately  hot  oven,  and  bake  about  an 


hour.  When  done,  peel  and  mash  likt 
mashed  potatoes,  or  serve  the  pieces  hot  on 
a  dish,  to  be  eaten  warm  with  butter  like 
sweet  potatoes.  It  retains  its  sweetness  much 
better  baked  this  way  than  when  boiled. 

Vegetable  Hash. — Chop  rather  coarsely 
the  remains  of  vegetables  left  from  a  boiled 
dinner,  such  as  cabbage,  parsnips,  potatoeSr 
etc.,  sprinkle  over  them  a  little  pepper; 
place  in  a  saucepan  or  frying-pan  over  the 
fire ;  put  in  a  piece  of  butter  the  size  of  a 
hickory  nut ;  when  it  begins  to  melt,  tip  the 
dish  so  as  to  oil  the  bottom,  and  around  the 
sides ;  then  put  in  the  chopped  vegetables ; 
pour  in  a  spoonful  or  two  of  hot  water  from 
the  tea-kettle ;  cover  quickly  so  as  to  keep 
in  the  steam.  When  heated  thoroughly 
take  off  the  cover  and  stir  occasionally  until 
well  cooked.  Serve  hot.  Persons  fond  of 
vegetables  will  relish  this  dish  very  much. 

Baked  Mushrooms. — Prepare  them  the 
same  as  for  stewing.  Place  them  in  a 
baking-pan,  in  a  moderate  oven.  Season 
with  salt,  pepper,  lemon  juice,  and  chopped 
parsley.  Cook  in  the  oven  fifteen  minutes, 
baste  with  butter.  Arrange  on  a  dish 
and  pour  the  gravy  over  them.  Serve 
with  sauce  made  by  beating  a  cup  of  cream, 
two  ounces  of  butter,  a  tablespoonful  of 
chopped  parsley,  a  little  cayenne  pepper, 
salt,  a  tablespoonful  of  white  sauce,  and  two 
tablespoonfuls  of  lemon  juice.  Put  in  a 
sauce-pan  and  set  on  the  fire.  Stir  until 
thick,  but  do  not  let  boil.  Mushrooms  are 
very  nice  placed  on  slices  of  well-buttered 
toast  when  set  into  the  oven  to  bake.  They 
cook  in  about  fifteen  minutes. 

Macaroni  a  la  Creme. — Boil  one-quartet 
of  a  pound  of  macaroni  in  plenty  of  hot 
water,  salted,  until  tender;  put  half  a  pint 
of  milk  in  a  double  boiler,  and  when  it  boils 
stir  into  it  a  mixture  of  two  tablespoonfuls 
of  butter  and  one  of  flour.  Add  two  table- 


248 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


spoonfuls  of  cream,  a  little  white  and  cay 
enne  pepper;  salt  to  taste,  and  from  one- 
quarter  to  one-half  a  pound  of  grated  cheese 
according  to  taste.  Drain  and  dish  the 
macaroni;  pour  the  boiling  sauce  over  ij, 
and  serve  immediately. 

Unrivaled  Yeast. — On  one  morning  boil 
two  ounces  of  the  best  hops  in  four  quarts 
of  water  half  an  hour ;  strain  it,  and  let  the 
liquor  cool  to  the  consistency  of  new  milk ; 
then  put  it  in  an  earthen  bowl,  and  add  half 
a  cupful  of  salt,  and  half  a  cupful  of  brown 
sugar ;  beat  up  one  quart  of  flour  with  some 
of  the  liquor;  then  mix  all  well  together, 
and  let  it  stand  till  the  third  day  after ;  then 
add  six  medium-sized  potatoes,  boiled  and 
mashed  through  a  colander;  let  it  stand  a 
day,  then  strain  and  bottle,  and  it  is  fit  for 
use.  It  must  be  stirred  frequently  while  it 
is  making,  and  kept  near  a  fire.  One  ad 
vantage  of  this  yeast  is  its  spontaneous  fer 
mentation,  requiring  the  help  of  no  old 
yeast;  if  care  be  taken  to  let  it  ferment  well 
in  the  bowl,  it  may  immediately  be  corked 
tightly.  Be  careful  to  keep  it  in  a  cool 
place.  Before  using  it  shake  the  bottle  up 
well.  It  will  keep  in  a  cool  place  two 
months,  and  is  best  the  latter  part  of  the 
time.  Use  about  the  same  quantity  as  of 
other  yeast. 

Graham  Bread. — One  teacupful  of  wlieac 
flour,  one-half  teacupful  of  Porto  Rico  mo 
lasses,  one-half  cupful  of  good  yeast,  one  tea- 
spoonful  of  salt,  one  pint  of  warm  water ;  add 
sufficient  Graham  flour  to  make  the  dough  as 
stiff  as  can  be  stirred  with  a  strong  spoon ; 
this  is  to  be  mixed  at  night ;  in  the  morn- 
mg,  add  one  teaspoonful  of  soda,  dissolved 
in  a  little  water;  mix  well,  and  pour  into 
two  medium-sized  pans ;  they  will  be  about 
half  full ;  let  it  stand  in  a  warm  place  until 
it  rises  to  the  top  of  the  pans,  then  bake  one 
hour  in  a  pretty  hot  oven. 


This  should  be  covered  about  twenvy 
minutes  when  first  put  into  the  oven  with  a 
thick  brown  paper,  or  an  old  tin  cover ;  it 
prevents  the  tipper  crust  hardening  before 
the  loaf  is  well-risen.  If  these  directions 
are  correctly  followed  the  bread  will  not  be 
heavy  or  sodden,  as  it  has  been  tried  for  years 
and  never  failed. 

Stewed  Carrots. — Wash  and  scrape  the 
carrots,  and  divide  them  into  strips;  put 
them  into  a  stew-pan  with  water  enough  to 
cover  them ;  add  a  spoonful  of  salt,  and  let- 
them  boil  slowly  until  tender;  then  drain 
and  replace  them  in  the  pan,  with  two  table- 
spoonfuls  of  butter  rolled  in  flour,  shake  over 
a  little  pepper  and  salt,  then  add  enough 
cream  or  milk  to  moisten  thr  whole :  let  it 
come  to  a  boil  and  serve  hot. 

Boston  Brown  Bread. — One  pint  of  rye 
flour,  one  quart  of  corn-meal,  one  teacupful 
of  Graham  flour,  all  fresh  ;  half  a  teacupful 
of  molasses  or  brown  sugar,  a  teaspoonful  of 
salt,  and  two-thirds  of  a  teacupful  of  home 
made  yeast.  Mix  into  as  stiff  a  dough  as  can 
be  stirred  with  a  spoon,  using  warm  water 
for  wetting.  Let  it  rise  several  hours,  or 
over  night ;  in  the  morning,  or  when  light, 
add  a  teaspoonful  of  soda  dissolved  in  a 
spoonful  of  warm  water;  beat  it  well  and 
turn  it  into  well-greased,  deep,  bread-pans, 
and  let  it  rise  again.  Bake  in  a  moderate 
oven  from  three  to  four  hours. 

Boston  Brown  Bread.  (Unfennented) — 
One  cupful  of  rye  flour,  two  cupfuls  of  corn- 
meal,  one  cupful  of  white  flour,  half  a  tea- 
cupful  of  molasses  or  sugar,  a  teaspoonful  of 
salt.  Stir  all  together  thoroughly,  and  wet 
up  with  sour  milk ;  then  add  a  level  tea- 
spoonful  of  soda  dissolved  in  a  tablespoon- 
ful  of  water.  The  same  can  be  made  of 
sweet  milk,  by  substituting  baking-powder 
for  soda.  The  batter  to  be  stirred  thick  with 
a  spoon,  and  turned  into  well-greased  pans. 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


249 


Virginia  Brown  Bread. — One  pint  of 
corn-meal,  pour  over  enough  boiling  water 
to  thoroughly  scald  it ;  when  cool,  add  one 
pint  of  light,  white  bread  sponge,  mix  well 
together,  add  one  cupful  of  molasses,  and 
Graham  flour  enough  to  mold;  this  will 
make  two  loaves ;  when  light  bake  in  a 
moderate  oven  one  and  a  half  hours. 

Rye  Bread. — To  a  4. '.art  of  warm  water 
stir  as  much  wheat  flour  as  will  make  a 
smooth  batter;  stir  into  it  half  a  gill  of 
home-made  yeast,  and  set  it  in  a  warm  place 
to  rise  ;  this  is  called  setting  a  sponge  ;  let  it 
be  mixed  in  some  vessel  which  will  contain 
twice  the  quantity ;  in  the  morning,  put 
three  pounds  and  a  half  of  rye  flour  into  a 
bowl  or  tray,  make  a  hollow  in  the  centre, 
pour  in  the  sponge,  add  a  dessertspoonful  of 
salt,  and  half  a  small  teaspoonful  of  soda, 
dissolved  in  a  little  water  ;  make  the  whole 
Into  a  smooth  dough,  with  as  much  warm 
water  as  may  be  necessary ;  knead  it  well, 
cover  it,  and  let  it  set  in  a  warm  place  for 
three  hours  ;  then  knead  it  again,  and  make 
it  into  two  or  three  loaves  ;  bake  in  a  quick 
oven  one  hour,  if  made  in  two  loaves,  or  less 
if  the  loaves  are  smaller. 

Rye  and  Corn  Bread. — One  quart  of  rye 
meal  or  rye  flour,  two  quarts  of  Indian  meal, 
Scalded  (by  placing  in  a  pan  and  pouring 
over  it  just  enough  boiling  water  to  merely 
wet  it,  but  not  enough  to  make  it  into  a 
batter,  stirring  constantly  with  a  spoon), 
one-half  cup  of  molasses,  two  teaspoonfuls 
salt,  one  teacup  yeast ;  make  it  as  stiff  as  can 
be  stirred  with  a  spoon,  mixing  with  warm 
water,  and  let  rise  all  night.  In  the  morn 
ing  add  a  level  teaspoonful  of  soda  dissolved 
in  a  little  water ;  then  put  it  in  a  large  pan, 
smooth  the  top  with  the  hand  dipped  in  cold 
water ;  let  it  stand  a  short  time,  and  bake 
five  or  six  hours.  If  put  in  the  oven  late  in 
the  day,  let  it  remain  all  night 


Graham  may  be  used  instead  of  rye,  and 
baked  as  above.  Both  are  considered  diges 
tible  and  very  healthful. 

This  is  similar  to  the  "  Rye  and  Injun  " 
of  our  grandmothers '  day,  but  that  was 
placed  in  a  kettle,  allowed  to  rise,  then 
placed  in  a  covered  iron  pan  upon  the  hearth 
before  the  fire,  with  coals  heaped  upon  the 
lid,  to  bake  all  night. 

Boston  Corn  Bread. — One  cup  of  sweet 
milk,  two  of  sour  milk,  two-thirds  of  a  cup 
of  molasses,  one  of  wheat  flour,  four  of  corn- 
meal  and  one  teaspoonful  of  soda ;  steam  for 
three  hours,  and  brown  a  few  minutes  in  the 
oven.  The  same  made  of  sweet  milk  and 
baking-powder  is  equally  as  good. 

Indian  Loaf  Cake. — Mix  a  teacupful  of 
powdered  white  sugar  with  a  quart  of  rich 
milk,  and  cut  up  in  the  milk  two  ounces  of 
butter,  adding  a  saltspoonful  of  salt.  Put 
this  mixture  into  a  covered  pan  or  skillet, 
and  set  it  on  the  fire  till  it  is  scalding  hot 
Then  take  it  off,  and  scald  with  it  as  much 
yellow  Indian  meal  (previously  sifted)  as  will 
make  it  of  the  consistence  of  thick  boiled 
mush.  Beat  the  whole  very  hard  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  and  then  set  it  away  to 
cool. 

While  it  is  cooling,  beat  three  eggs  very 
light,  and  stir  them  gradually  into  the  mix 
ture  when  it  is  about  as  warm  as  new  milk. 
Add  a  teacupful  of  good  strong  yeast, 
and  beat  the  whole  another  quarter  of  an 
hour,  for  much  of  the  goodness  of  this  cake 
depends  on  its  being  long  and  well-beaten. 
Then  have  ready  a  tin  mold  or  earthen  pan 
with  a  pipe  in  the  centre  (to  diffuse  the 
heat  through  the  middle  of  the  cake).  The 
pan  must  be  very  well-buttered,  as  Indian 
meal  is  apt  to  stick.  Put  in  the  mixture, 
cover  it,  and  set  it  in  a  warm  place  to  rise. 
It  should  be  light  in  about  four  hours.  Then 
bake  it  two  hours  in  a  moderate  oven.  When 


250 


COURTSttTP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


done,  turn  it  out  with  the  broad  surface 
downwards,  send  it  to  table  hot  and  whole. 
Cut  it  into  slices  and  eat  it  with  butter. 

This  will  be  found  an  excellent  cake.  If 
wanted  for  breakfast,  mix  it,  and  set  it  to 
rise  the  night  before.  If  properly  made, 
standing  all  night  will  not  injure  it.  Like 
all  Indian  cakes  (of  which  this  is  one  of  the 
best),  it  should  be  eaten  warm. 

Johnnie  Cake. — Sift  one  quart  of  Indian 
meal  into  a  pan ;  make  a  hole  in  the  middle 
and  pour  in  a  pint  of  warm  water,  adding 
one  teaspoonful  of  salt;  with  a  spoon  mix 
the  meal  and  water  gradually  into  a  soft 
dough  ;  stir  it  very  briskly  for  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  or  more,  till  it  becomes  light  and 
spongy ;  then  spread  the  dough  smooth  and 
evenly  on  a  straight,  flat  board  (a  piece  of 
the  head  of  a  flour  barrel  will  serve  for  this 
purpose) ;  place  the  board  nearly  upright  be 
fore  an  open  fire,  and  put  an  iron  against  the 
back  to  support  it ;  bake  it  well ;  when  done, 
cut  it  in  squares ;  send  it  hot  to  table,  split 
and  buttered. 

New  England  Corn  Cake. — One  quart 
of  milk,  one  pint  of  corn-meal,  one  tea-cup 
ful  of  wheat  flour,  a  teaspoonful  of  salt,  two 
tablespoonfuls  of  melted  butter.  Scald  the 
milk,  and  gradually  pour  it  on  the  meal ; 
when  cool,  add  the  butter  and  salt,  also 
half  a  cup  of  yeast.  Do  this  at  night ;  in 
the  morning  beat  thoroughly  and  add  two 
well-beaten  eggs,  and  half  a  teaspoonful  of 
soda,  dissolved  in  a  spoonful  of  water. 
Pour  the  mixture  into  buttered  deep  earthen 
plates,  let  it  stand  fifteen  minutes  to  rise 
again,  then  bake  from  twenty  to  thirty 
minutes. 

Parker  House  Rolls. — One  pint  of  milk, 
boiled  and  cooled ;  a  piece  of  butter  the  size 
of  an  egg ;  one  half  cupful  of  fresh  yeast ;  one 
tablespoonful  of  sugar,  one  pinch  of  salt,  and 
two  quarts  of  sifted  flour. 


Melt  the  butter  in  the  warm  milk,  then 
add  the  sugar,  salt  and  flour,  and  let  it  rise 
over  night.  Mix  rather  soft  In  the  morn 
ing,  add  to  this  half  of  a  teaspoonful  of  soda 
dissolved  in  a  spoonful  of  water.  Mix  iu 
enough  flour  to  make  the  same  stiffness  as 
any  biscuit  dough ;  roll  out  not  more  than  a 
quarter  of  an  inch  thick.  Cut  with  a  large 
round  cutter;  spread  soft  butter  over  the 
tops  and  fold  one-half  over  the  other  by 
doubling  it.  Place  them  apart  a  little  so 
that  there  will  be  room  to  rise.  Cover,  and 
place  them  near  the  fire  for  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes  before  baking.  Bake  in  rather  a 
quick  oven. 

Sally  Lunn. — Warm  one-half  cupful  of 
butter  in  a  pint  of  milk ;  add  a  teaspoonful 
of  salt,  a  tablespoonful  of  sugar,  and  seven 
cupfuls  of  sifted  flour ;  beat  thoroughly,  anc 
when  the  mixture  is  blood  warm,  add  four 
beaten  eggs,  and  last  of  all,  half  a  cup  of 
good  lively  yeast.  Beat  hard  until  the  bat 
ter  breaks  in  blisters.  Set  it  to  rise  over 
night.  In  the  morning,  dissolve  half  a  tea- 
spoonful  of  soda,  stir  it  into  the  batter  and 
turn  it  into  a  well-buttered,  shallow  dish  to 
rise  again  about  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes. 
Bake  about  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes. 

The  cake  should  be  torn  apart,  not  cut; 
cutting  with  a  knife  makes  warm  bread 
heavy.  Bake  a  light  brown.  This  cake  is 
frequently  seen  on  Southern  tables, 

London  Hot-Cross  Buns. — Three  cups  of 
milk,  one  cup  of  yeast,  or  one  cake  of  com 
pressed  yeast  dissolved  in  a  cup  of  tepid 
water,  and  flour  enough  to  make  a  thick 
batter;  set  this  as  a  sponge  over  night  In 
the  morning,  add  half  a  cup  of  melted  but- 
ter,  one  cup  of  sugar,  half  a  nutmeg  grated,, 
one  saltspoonful  of  salt,  half  a  teaspoonful  of 
soda,  and  flour  enough  to  roll  out  like  bis 
cuit.  Knead  well  and  set  to  rise  for  five 
hours.  Roll  the  dough  half  an  inch 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


251 


thick ;  cut  in  round  cakes,  and  lay  in  rows 
in  a  buttered  baking-pan,  and  let  the  cakes 
stand  half  an  hour ;  or  until  light ;  then  put 
them  in  the  oven,  having  first  made  a  deep 
cross  on  each  with  a  knife.  Bake  a  light 
brown,  and  brush  over  with  white  of  egg 
beaten  stiff  with  powdered  sugar. 

Rusks. — Two  cups  of  raised  dough,  one 
of  sugar,  half  a  cup  of  butter,  two  well- 
beaten  eggs,  flour  enough  to  make  a  stiff 
dough;  set  to  rise,  and  when  light,  mold 
into  high  biscuit,  and  let  rise  again;  rub 
damp  sugar  and  cinnamon  over  the  top  and 
place  in  the  oven.  Bake  about  twenty 
minutes. 

Scotch  Scones. — Thoroughly  mix,  while 
dry,  one  quart  of  sifted  flour,  loosely  meas 
ured,  with  two  heaping  teaspoonfuls  of  bak 
ing  powder ;  then  rub  into  it  a  tablespoonful 
of  cold  butter,  and  a  teaspoonful  of  salt.  Be 
sure  that  the  butter  is  well  worked  in.  Add 
sweet  milk  enough  to  make  a  very  soft  paste. 
Roll  out  the  paste  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch 
thick,  using  plenty  of  flour  on  the  paste 
board,  and  rolling-pin.  Cut  it  into  triangu 
lar  pieces,  each  side  about  four  inches  long. 
Flour  the  sides  and  bottom  of  a  biscuit-tin, 
and  place  the  pieces  on  it.  Bake  immedi 
ately  in  a  quick  oven  from  twenty  to  thirty 
minutes.  When  half  done,  brush  over  with 
sweet  milk.  Some  cooks  prefer  to  bake 
them  on  a  floured  griddle,  and  cut  them  a 
round  shape  the  size  of  a  saucer,  then  scarred 
across  to  form  four  quarters. 

Cracknels. — Two  cups  of  rich  milk,  four 
tablespoonfuls  of  butter  and  a  gill  of  yeast,  a 
teaspQonful  of  salt;  mix  warm,  add  flour 
enough  to  make  a  light  dough.  When 
light,  roll  thin,  and  cut  in  long  pieces  three 
inches  wide,  prick  well  with  a  fork,  and  bake 
f)t  a  slow  oven.  They  are  to  be  mixed 
rither  hard,  and  rolled  very  thin,  like  soda 
crackers. 


Raised  Muffins. — Make  a  batter  of  one 
pint  of  sweet  milk,  one  teaspoonful  of  sugar, 
one  of  salt,  a  tablespoonful  of  butter  or  sweet 
lard,  and  a  half  cup  of  yeast;  add  flour 
enough  to  make  it  moderately  thick;  keep 
it  in  a  warm,  not  hot,  place,  until  it  is  quite 
light,  then  stir  in  one  or  two  well-beaten 
eggs,  and  half  a  teaspoonful  of  soda,  dissolved 
in  a  little  warm  water.  Let  the  batter  stand 
twenty-five  or  thirty  minutes  longer  to  rise 
a  little,  turn  into  well-greased  muffin-rings 
or  gem-pans,  and  bake  in  a  quick  oven. 

To  be  served  hot,  and  torn  open,  instead 
of  cut  with  a  knife. 

Corn-meal  Muffins  (Without  Eggs). — One 
cup  of  flour,  one  cup  of  corn-meal,  two  table- 
spoonfuls  of  sugar,  water  to  make  a  thick 
batter,  or  sour  milk  is  better;  mix  at  night; 
in  the  morning,  add  two  tablespoonfuls  of 
melted  butter,  and  one  teaspoonful  of  soda; 
bake  in  cake  rounds. 

Hominy  Muffins. — Two  cups  of  boiled 
hominy;  beat  it  smooth,  stir  in  three  cups 
of  sour  milk,  half  a  cup  of  melted  butter, 
two  teaspoonfuls  of  salt,  two  tablespoonfuls 
of  sugar;  add  three  eggs  well-beaten;  one 
teaspoonful  of  soda,  dissolved  in  hot  water; 
two  cups  of  flour.  Bake  quickly. 

Rice  muffins  may  be  made  in  the  same 
manner. 

Graham  Gems. — Two  cupfuls  of  Graham 
flour,  one  cupful  of  wheat  flour,  two  tea- 
spoonfuls  of  baking-powder,  a  tablespoonful 
of  sugar,  one  of  salt,  and  one  well-beaten  egg. 
Mix  with  sweet  milk  to  make  a  thin  batter ; 
beat  it  well.  Bake  in  gem-irons ;  have  the 
irons  well-greased;  fill  two-thirds  full,  and 
bake  in  a  hot  oven.  Will  bake  in  from 
fifteen  to  twenty  minutes. 

Continental  Hotel  Waffles. — Put  into  one 
quart  of  sifted  flour  three  teaspoonfuls  of 
baking-powder,  one  teaspoonful  of  salt,  one 
of  sugar,  all  thoroughly  stirred  and  sifted 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AMD  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


together;  add  a  tablespoonful  of  melted 
butter,  six  well-beaten  eggs,  and  a  pint  of 
sweet  milk ;  cook  in  waffle-irons,  heated  and 
Well  greased.  Serve  hot 

German  Rice  Waffles. — Boil  j.  half  pound 
of  rice  in  milk  until  it  becomes  thoroughly 
loft.  Then  remove  it  from  the  fire,  stirring  it 
Constantly,  and  adding,  a  little  at  a  time,  one 
quart  of  sifted  flour,  five  beaten  eggs,  two 
spoonfuls  of  yeast,  a  half  pound  of  melted 
butter,  a  little  salt,  and  a  teacupful  of  -warm 
milk.  Set  the  batter  in  a  warm  place,  and 
when  risen,  bake  in  the  ordinary  way. 

Pop-Overs. — Two  cups  of  flour,  two  cups 
of  sweet  milk,  two  eggs,  one  teaspoonful  of 
butter,  one  teaspoonful  of  salt,  bake  in  cups 
in  a  quick  oven  fifteen  minutes.  Serve  hot 
with  a  sweet  sauce. 

Corn-meal  Griddle  Cakes. — Scald  two 
cups  of  sifted  meal,  mix  with  a  cup  of  wheat 
tlour,  and  a  teaspoonful  of  salt.  Add  three 
well-beaten  eggs ;  thin  the  whole  with  sour 
milk  enough  to  make  it  the  right  consist 
ency.  Beat  the  whole  till  very  light,  and 
add  a  teaspoonful  of  baking-soda  dissolved  in 
a  little  water.  If  you  use  sweet  milk,  use 
two  large  teaspoonfuls  of  baking-ponder 
instead  of  soda. 

Golden-ball  Fritters. — Put  into  a  stew- 
pan  a  pint  of  water,  a  piece  of  butter  as 
large  as  an  egg,  and  a  tablespoonful  of 
sugar.  When  it  boils,  stir  into  it  one  pint 
of  sifted  flour,  stirring  briskly  and  thoroughly. 
Remove  from  the  fire,  and  when  nearly  cooled, 
beat  into  it  six  eggs,  each  one  beaten  separ 
ately,  and  added,  one  at  a  time,  beating  the 
batter  between  each.  Drop  the  stiff  dough 
into  boiling  lard  by  teaspoonfuls.  Eat  with 
syrup,  or  melted  sugar  and  butter  flavored. 

Stirring  the  boiling  lard  around  and 
around,  so  that  it  whirls  when  you  drop  in 
the  fritters,  causes  them  to  assume  a  round 
ghaoe  like  balls. 


Pine-Apple  Fritters. — Make  a  batter  v* 
for  apple  fritters  ;  then  pare  one  large  pine 
apple,  cut  it  in  slices  a  quarter  of  an  inch 
thick,  cut  the  slices  in  halves,  dip  them  into 
the  batter  and  fry  them,  and  seive  them  as 
above. 

Strawberry  Short-cake.- — Make  a  rule  of 
baking-powder  biscuit,  with  the  exception  of 
a  little  more  shortening  ;  divide  the  dough 
in  half;  lay  one-half  on  the  moulding-board 
(half  the  dough  makes  one  short-cake), 
divide  this  half  again,  and  roll  each  piece 
large  enough  to  cover  a  biscuit-tin,  or  a 
laige-sized  pie-tin  ;  spread  soft  butter  over 
the  lower  one,  and  place  the  other  on  top  of 
that ;  proceed  with  the  other  lump  of  dough 
the  same,  by  cutting  it  in  halves,  and  putting 
on  another  tin.  Set  them  in  the  oven; 
when  sufficient!}'  baked  take  them  out, 
separate  each  one  by  running  a  large  knife 
through  where  the  cold  soft  butter  was 
spread.  Then  butter  plentifully  each  crust, 
lay  the  bottom  of  each  on  earthen  platters 
or  dining-plates;  cover  thickly  with  a  quart 
of  strawberries  that  have  been  previously 
prepared  with  sugar,  lay  the  top  crusts  on 
the  fruit  If  there  is  any  juice  left,  pour  it 
around  the  cake.  This  makes  a  delicious 
short-cake. 

Peaches,  raspberries,  blackberries,  and 
huckleberries  can  be  substituted  for  straw 
berries.  Always  send  to  the  table  with  a 
pitcher  of  sweet  cream. 

Orange  Short-cake. — Peel  two  large 
oranges,  chop  them  fine,  remove  the  seeds, 
add  half  a  peeled  lemon,  and  one  cup  of 
sugar.  Spread  between  the  layers  of  short- 
cake  while  it  is  hot 

Lemon  Short-cake. — Make  a  rich  biscuit 
dough,  same  as  above  recipe.  While  bak 
ing,  take  a  cup  and  a  quarter  of  water,  a  cup 
and  a  half  of  sugar,  and  two  lemons,  peel, 
juice  and  pulp,  throwing  away  the  tough 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


253 


part  of  the  rind;  boil  this  for  some  little 
time  ;  then  stir  in  three  crackers,  rolled  fine ; 
split  the  short-cakes  while  hot,  spread  with 
butter,  then  with  the  mixture.  To  be  eaten 
warm. 

English  Crumpets. — One  quart  of  warm 
milk,  half  a  cup  of  yeast,  one  teaspoonful  of 
salt,  flour  enough  to  make  a  stiff  batter ;  when 
light,  add  half  a  cupful  of  melted  butter,  a 
teaspoonful  of  soda,  dissolved  in  a  little 
water,  and  a  very  little  more  flour ;  let  it 
stand  twenty  minutes  or  until  light.  Grease 
some  muffin  rings,  place  them  on  a  hot  grid 
dle,  and  fill  them  half  full  of  the  batter  ; 
when  done  on  one  side,  turn  and  bake  the 
other  side.  Butter  them  while  hot ;  pile 
one  on  another,  and  serve  immediately. 

Gooseberry  Jam. — Take  some  goose 
berries  that  are  not  too  ripe,  pick  them  care 
fully,  and  lay  them  at  the  bottom  of  an 
earthenware  pan,  and  cover  them  with 
sugar.  Keep  on  doing  this  until  the  pan  is 
almost  filled,  and  then  add  a  pint  of  water 
to  every  six  pounds  of  gooseberries.  Put  the 
pan  in  a  moderately  heated  oven  until  the 
sugar  is  converted  into  syrup,  and  the  con 
tents  begin  to  boil.  Then  remove  the  pre 
served  fruit,  and  put  it  while  hot  into  small 
jars,  which  should  be  securely  covered  with 
several  layers  of  white  paper. 

Gooseberry  Jelly. — Bruise  a  quantity  of 
gooseberries  and  pass  the  pulp  through  a 
somewhat  coarse  cloth,  and  add  three-quar 
ters  of  their  weight  of  lump-sugar.  Boil 
the  fruit  with  sugar  into  a  jelly,  so  thick 
that  when  a  little  is  dropped  on  a  plate  it 
will  not  adhere  to  it,  and  then  strain  it. 

Apple  Cream. — Peel  some  apples,  remove 
the  cores,  and  cut  them  in  thin  slices.  Put 
them  into  a  saucepan  with  crushed  sugar, 
sliced  lemon-peel,  and  ground  ginger,  with 
a  little  red  wine.  Let  them  simmer  until 
they  become  tender ;  put  them  in  a  dish,  and 


allow  them  to  cool.  Then  boil  a  quart  of 
cream  with  some  nutmeg,  and  add  the  apples 
to  it,  with  a  sufficient  quantity  of  sugar  to 
sweeten  it. 

Lemon  Lozenges. — Put  a  quarter  of  an 
ounce  of  gum  tragacanth  in  a  little  water. 
Add  to  it  some  lemon-juice,  and  the  peel  cut 
in  very  thin  slices.  Stir  them  frequently 
for  three  or  four  days,  until  the  gum  forms  a 
mucilage.  Then  strain  it  into  a  mortar; 
mix  with  it  a  pound  of  powdered  lump- 
sugar,  taking  care  to  add  the  sugar  by  small 
portions  at  a  time,  and  not  to  put  another 
portion  in  it  until  the  previous  one  has 
thoroughly  mixed  with  the  mucilage. 
When  a  white  and  flexible  paste  has  thus 
been  prepared,  roll  it  into  a  sheet  about  as 
thick  as  a  halfpenny,  and  cut  it  into  dia 
monds  with  a  knife  or  cutter.  Arrange  the 
lozenges  on  a  plate,  and  dry  them  in  a  warm 
oven. 

French  Mode  of  Cleaning  Kid  Gloves.— 
The  easiest  and  best  way  to  clean  a  kid  glove 
is  to  stretch  it  on  the  hand  or  on  a  stick,  and 
then  carefully  rub  it  with  a  piece  of  moist 
flannel,  on  which  a  little  powdered  soap  has 
been  applied.  When  the  dirt  has  been 
cleaned  off  the  glove,  the  moisture  is  to  be 
removed  with  a  piece  of  dry  flannel. 

Oil  for  Watches  and  Delicate  Machinery,, 
— Take  a  piece  of  sheet  lead,  scrape  the  sur 
face  perfectly  bright,  and  introduce  it  into  a 
bottle  of  the  purest  olive  oil.  The  bottle  is 
then  to  be  exposed  to  the  action  of  the  sun's 
light  for  some  weeks,  during  which  time  it 
will  deposit  a  quantity  of  mucilage  on  the 
surface  of  the  lead.  When  it  is  found  that 
the  oil  has  deposited  all  the  mucilage  it  con 
tained,  it  is  to  be  carefully  poured  off,  and 
preserved  in  stoppered  bottles.  Oil  thus 
prepared  may  be  kept  for  years  without 
turning  rancid,  or  becoming  thick  when  ex« 
posed  to  the  action  of  the  atmosphere. 


254 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


To  Clean  Decanters  and  Water-bottles. 

— When  a  water-bottle  has  contained  hard 
water  for  a  considerable  time,  it  becomes 
coated  in  the  interior  with  a  deposit  of  car 
bonate  of  lime,  with  any  other  matters  that 
the  water  may  have  contained.  The  easiest 
way  of  removing  this  is  to  add  about  a  tea- 
spoonful  of  hydrochloric  acid  (spirit  of  salts), 
and  rinse  round  the  bottle  with  it.  It  will 
then  be  found  that  the  instant  the  acid 
conies  in  contact  with  the  deposit  it  imme 
diately  removes  it,  and  forms  a  clear  solution 
of  chloride  of  calcium.  The  bottle  should 
tnen  be  rinsed  in  plenty  of  clean  water. 
After  a  decanter  has  held  port  or  other  wines 
for  a  long  period,  a  deposit  of  coloring  matter 
will  be  thrown  down  on  the  surface  of  the 
glass.  This  may  be  easily  cleaned  off  by  a 
little  sulphuric  acid  (oil  of  vitriol). 

Remedy  for  Chilblains. — Sulphurous  acid 
three  parts,  and  glycerine  one  part,  diluted 
with  the  same  quantity  of  water.  This  fluid 
is  particularly  useful  for  allaying  the  intense 
itching  with  which  chilblains  are  usually  ac 
companied.  The  liquid  is  to  be  applied  to 
the  affected  parts  by  means  of  a  soft  camel- 
hair  pencil. 

Red  Manifold  Paper  fcr  obtaining  Copies 
of  Embroidery,  or  other  Patterns. — Rub 
a  sheet  of  thin  white  paper  with  a  smooth 
piece  of  red  chalk,  until  every  portion  of 
its  surface  has  been  gone  over.  After 
wards  rub  the  loose  powder,  which  has 
become  detached  from  the  chalk,  into  the 
substance  of  the  paper  with  a  piece  of  fine 
linen,  and  dust  off  any  portions  of  powder 
that  may  still  remain  on  its  surface.  To  use 
this  paper,  it  should  be  laid  with  the  pre 
pared  side  downwards  on  the  sheet  of  white 
paper  on  which  it  is  intended  for  the  copy  to 
appear.  The  pattern  is  then  laid  on  it,  and 
its  outline  carefully  gone  over  with  a  blunt 
point,  which  must  press  gently  on  it,  so  as  to 


transfer  the  red  powder  from  the  manifold 
paper  to  the  surface  on  which  it  rests.  If 
this  is  carefully  done,  with  the  requisite 
degree  of  pressure,  when  the  manifold  papei 
is  removed  a  perfect  impression  of  every 
line  traced  will  be  found  on  the  paper  on. 
which  it  rested.  If  wished,  a  number  of 
copies  can  be  obtained  by  only  once  going 
over  the  pattern,  provided  as  many  sheets  of 
manifold  and  white  paper  are  arranged  as 
there  are  copies  desired. 

To  Purify  Neat's-foot  Oil.— This  may  be 
done  by  mixing  the  oil  with  an  equal  quan 
tity  of  water,  and  placing  them  in  a  pan 
over  the  fire  to  simmer.  Stir  the  oil  con 
tinually  till  it  is  entirely  mixed  with  the 
water,  then  remove  the  vessel  from  the  fire, 
and  allow  it  to  cool.  When  quite  cold,  re 
move  all  the  oil,  which  now  floats  on  the 
surface,  and  again  subject  it  to  the  same  pro 
cess  with  more  water.  If  it  is  desired  to 
employ  this  oil  for  the  preparation  of  cold 
cream,  it  may  be  perfumed  by  using  orange- 
flower  or  rose-water,  instead  of  ordinary 
water. 

To  Preserve  'Jherries. — Boil  them  in 
thick  syrup  in  a  pan,  and  let  them  remain 
until  the  next  day.  Then  take  them  out, 
and  put  them  in  syrup  that  has  been  boiled 
down  until  it  is  ready  to  candy,  and  color 
them  with  some  syrup  of  red  currants. 
Cherries  may  also  be  preserved  by  another 
method.  Take  equal  quantities  of  crushed 
loaf-sugar  and  ripe  cherries,  previously 
stoned.  Place  some  of  the  sugar  at  the 
bottom  of  the  preserving-pan,  place  the  cher 
ries  on  it,  and  sprinkle  more  sugar  over  them 
as  you  place  them  in  it.  Then  put  the  pan 
on  the  fire,  and  for  each  pound  of  fruit  add 
half  a  quarter  of  a  pint  of  red  currant  juice, 
and  more  of  the  sugar.  Boil  them  fast  over 
a  good  fire,  frequently  shaking  the  pan,  but 
not  stirring  it.  Skim  the  contents, 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


255 


when  the  syrup  has  become  sufficiently 
thick,  pour  the  preserved  fruit  into  jelly-pots. 

To  Preserve  Cherries  in  Bunches. — Select 
some  cherries,  and  make  them  into  bunches. 
Then  boil  them  in  a  syrup,  made  with  an 
equal  weight  of  sugar,  and  the  smallest  pos 
sible  quantity  of  water  to  dissolve  it.  Take 
the  vessel  from  the  fire  and  skim  it,  and  let 
the  cherries  become  cold.  Then  place  them 
in  the  syrup  into  a  warm  oven,  and  let  them 
remain  until  next  day.  Afterwards  take 
them  out  and  dry  them. 

Method  of  Making  Cloth  and  Leather 
Waterproof. — The  minute  spaces  between 
the  fibres  of  the  yarn,  either  of  cloth,  silk,  or 
cotton  goods,  cause  them  to  be  pervious  to 
water;  therefore,  these  minute  channels  in 
c  bth  and  the  pores  of  leather  must  be  closed 
up  in  order  to  make  them  waterproof. 

Many  have  been  the  means  adopted  and 
invented  for  the  purpose,  and  some  are  quite 
simple  enough  to  be  adopted  at  home. 

One  method  is  by  immersion  in  a  prepa- 
-ation  composed  of  2  oz.  of  pulverized  alum 
dissolved  in  i  pint  of  distilled  water ;  and  I 
oz.  of  dry  white-lead  rubbed  down  in  one 
pint  of  water.  The  two  solutions  are  mixed 
and  allowed  to  settle ;  the  liquor  constitutes 
the  required  agent. 

Another  method  by  immersion :  i  oz.  dry 
white-lead  rubbed  down  in  half  a  pint  of 
water;  i  oz.  of  pounded  alum  dissolved  in 
half  a  pint  of  water ;  mix,  and  add  two  fluid 
drachms  of  acetic  acid,  and  allow  to  settle. 

When  the  cloth  has  been  immersed  in  the 
liquor  resulting  from  either  of  the  above 
solutions,  it  is  passed  through  a  solution  of 
quicklime,  and  a  third  time  through  a  solu 
tion  of  Irish  moss,  which  acts  as  a  mucilage. 

Waterproofing  in  the  household  may  be 
easily  managed  thus:  Boil  half  an  ounce  of 
Russian  isinglass  in  a  pint  of  soft  water  until 
dissolved ;  dissolve  an  ounce  of  alum  in  a 


quart  of  water;  dissolve  a  quarter  of  an 
ounce  of  white  soap  in  a  pint  of  wateij 
strain  these  solutions  separately  through 
linen,  and  then  mix  them  all  together. 
Heat  the  liquid  until  it  simmers,  and  apply 
it  with  a  brush  to  the  wrong  side  of  the 
cloth  on  a  flat  table.  When  dry,  brush  the 
cloth  lightly  with  water.  This  process 
renders  the  cloth  impervious  to  water,  but 
not  to  air,  and  is  therefore  a  healthy  manner 
of  rendering  articles  waterproof. 

To  Render  Leather  Boots  Waterproof.— 
Melt  over  a  slow  fire,  one  quart  of  boiled 
linseed  oil;  one  pound  of  mutton  suet; 
three-quarters  of  a  pound  of  yellow  beeswax; 
and  half  a  pound  of  common  resin;  02 
smaller  quantities  in  these  proportions.  With 
this  mixture  saturate  the  leather  of  new 
boots  and  shoes,  having  previously  made 
them  rather  warm. 

To  Preserve  Bread  for  Long  Periods. — Cut 
the  bread  into  thick  slices,  and  bake  it  in  an 
oven,  so  as  to  render  it  perfectly  dry.  In 
this  condition  it  will  keep  good  for  any 
length  of  time  required,  and  without  turning 
mouldy  or  sour,  like  ordinary  bread.  The 
bread  thus  prepared  must,  however,  be  care 
fully  preserved  from  pressure,  otherwise, 
owing  to  its  brittleness,  it  will  soon  fall  to 
pieces.  When  required  for  use,  it  will  only 
be  necessary  to  dip  the  bread  fot  an  instant 
into  warm  water,  and  then  hold  it  before  the 
fire  until  dry,  and  then  butter  it,  when  it  will 
taste  like  toast.  This  is  a  useful  way  of 
preserving  bread  for  sea  voyages,  and  also 
any  bread  that  may  be  too  stale  to  be  eaten 
in  the  usual  way. 

Removing  Ink- Stains. — As  furniture^ 
books,  papers,  and  any  other  articles  of  value 
are  liable  to  become  disfigured  by  ink- 
stains,  any  information  about  the  safest 
means  of  removing  them  is  of  value.  Owing 
to  the  black  color  of  writing-ink  depending 


upon  the  iron  it  contains,  the  usual  method 
is  to  employ  some  dilute  acid  in  which  the 
iron  is  soluble,  and  this,  dissolving  out  the 
iron,  takes  away  the  color  of  the  stain. 
Almost  any  acid  will  answer  for  this  pur- 
,pose,  but  it  is  of  course  necessary  to  employ 
'those  only  that  are  not  likely  to  injure  the 
articles  to  which  we  apply  them.  A  solution 
of  oxalic  acid  may  be  used  for  this  purpose, 
and  answers  very  well.  It  has,  however, 
the  great  disadvantage  oi  being  very  poison, 
ous,  and  thus  requiring  caution  in  its  use 
Citric  acid  and  tartaric  acid,  which  are  quite 
harmless,  are  therefore  to  be  preferred,  espec 
ially  as  they  may  be  used  on  the  most  deli 
cate  fabrics  witnout  any  danger  of  injuring 
them.  They  may  also  be  employed  to 
remove  marks  of  ink  from  books,  as  they  do 
not  injure  printing-ink,  into  the  composi 
tion  of  which  iron  does  not  enter.  Lemon- 
juice,  which  contains  citric  acid,  may  also  be 
used  for  the  same  purpose,  but  it  does  not 
succeed  so  well  as  the  pure  acid. 

To  Remove  Stains  from  Woollen  Dresses. 
— Make  a  thick  rubbing  of  soap  on  a  damp 
nail-brush.  Spread  the  stained  part  on  a 
deal  table.  Scrub  with  the  brush  and  a 
sprinkling  of  water  till  quite  removed. 
Take  a  wet  cloth  and  wipe  off  the  soap. 

To  Remove  Ink  Stains. — If  spilt  on.  a 
table-cloth  or  carpet,  take  up  quickly  all  you 
can  into  a  spoon,  and  throw  it  in  a  plate  or 
saucer,  or  any  china  article  which  will  wash 
clean,  or  even  in  emergency  on  stout  double 
brown  paper.  Take  a  rag  or  coarse  cloth, 
dip  it  in' cold  water,  and  squeeze  it  out.  Rub 
the  stain  with  it,  and  beyond  the  stain  on  all 
'sides,  quickly  and  plentifully,  till  every  mark 
of  the  ink  has  disappeared.  If  very  promptly 
done,  no  trace  will  remain.  A  second  wet 
cloth  may  be  used  to  finish  with.  Cloth 
table-covers  are  generally  recovered  this  way. 
Almost  any  stain  falling  on  a  table-cloth, 


carpet,  or  hearth-rug  cau  thus  be  remove^ 
by  prompt  measures. 

Ink  on  Linen,  Calico,  or  White  Muslin. — 
Immediately  lay  the  damaged  part  of  the 
article  in  plenty  of  milk.  Immerse  it  well. 
Let  it  !:>:.  Then  rub  it  well.  Let  it  lie> 
and  rub  it  alternately  all  day.  Only  very 
hard  rubbing  will  get  it  out,  but  every 
vestige  may  be  removed. 

A  French  Method  of  Preserving  Eggs.— 
Paint  over  the  surface  of  the  eggs  with  a 
thick  mucilage  of  gum  arabic  in  water 
This  may  be  easily  prepared  by  putting  some 
crushed  gum  arabic  into  a  teacup,  pouring 
boiling  water  over  it;  and  allowing  it  to 
remain  by  the  fire  until  dissolved.  The 
commonest  kind  of  gum  arabic  may  be  em 
ployed  for  the  purpose.  When  the  eggs 
thus  coated  are  dry,  they  should  be  kept  in  a 
box  surrounded  by  a  very  dry  powdered  char 
coal.  When  required  for  use,  the  gum  may 
be  removed  by  placing  the  egg  in  tepid 
water.  Eggs  intended  to  be  thus  preserved 
should  be  very  fresh,  kept  at  a  regular  and 
moderate  temperature,  and  preserved  from 
the  contact  of  air  and  moisture. 

To  Make  Blackberry  Wine. — Press  out 
the  juice  from  fully-ripe  blackberries  and  let 
it  ferment,  being  lightly  covered  over  for  a 
couple  of  days,  when  it  requires  to  be 
skimmed,  and  a  half  quantity  of  water,  to 
gether  with  two  or  three  pounds  of  raw 
sugar,  added  to  each  gallon  of  juice ;  after 
which  it  should  remain  for  about  a  day  and 
a  night  in  an  open  vessel,  be  skimmed  and 
strained,  poured  into  a  clean  cask,  and 
bunged  up.  A  bottle  of  brandy  added  in 
the  cask  improves  the  wine.  It  should  re 
main  at  least  six  months  in  cask,  and  then 
be  bottled. 

How  to  Preserve  Milk. — Pour  the  milk 
into  a  bottle,  and  place  the  vessel  up  to  its 
neck  in  a  saucepanful  of  water,  which  is 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


257 


then  to  be  put  on  the  fire,  and  allowed  to  j  with.     It  acts  through  containing  a  large 


boil  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  The  bottle  is 
now  to  be  removed  from  the  water,  and 
carefully  closed  with  a  good  and  tight-fitting 
cork,  so  as  to  render  it  as  air-tight  as  possible. 
Milk  which  has  been  preserved  by  this  pro 
cess  has  been  kept  for  more  than  a  year 
without  turning  sour.  Milk  may  also  be 
preserved  by  putting  a  tablespoonful  of 
horse-radish,  scraped  in  shreds,  into  a  panful 
of  milk.  When  milk  thus  treated  is  kept  in 
a  cool  place,  it  will  be  found  to  keep  good 
for  several  days,  even  in  hot  weather. 

To  Destroy  Crickets  or  Beetles. — Put 
some  strong  snuff  in  the  cracks  and  holes 
from  whence  they  come.  The  parings  of 
cucumbers  will,  if  strewn  about  near  their 
holes,  drive  them  away. 

To  Destroy  Flies. — Strong  green  tea, 
sweetened  well,  and  set  in  saucers  about  the 
places  where  they  are  most  numerous,  will 
attract  and  destroy  them.  This  plan  is  much 
to  be  preferred  to  the  use  of  those  horrible 
fly-papers,  which  catch  the  poor  insects  alive, 
cruelly  torturing  them  whilst  starving  them 
to  death. 

A  Scratched  or  Defaced  Table.— If  a  table 
is  defaced  or  scratched,  it  may  be  sent  to  a 
cabinet-maker's,  and  planed  and  repolished, 
which  will  make  it  look  like  a  new  one. 

Cleaning  Bottles. — The  fur  from  the  in 
side  of  bottles  can  be  removed  by  putting  in 
small  pieces  of  brown  paper  in  cold  water 
and  shaking  well  about 

Cleaning  Knives.— Vinegar  and  fruit 
stains  upon  knives  can  be  taken  off  by  rub 
bing  the  blades  with  raw  potato,  and  then 
polishing  on  the  knife-board  in  the  usual 
manner. 

A    Cheap    Substitute    for    Soap. — The 
leaves  and  flowers  of  the  plant  called  soap- 
wort  are  sometimes  boiled  in  water,  and  the 
liquid  used  instead  of  soap  to  wash  clothes 
17 


quantity  of  alkali. 

Pomade. — Two  ounces  of  lard,  two  ounces 
of  olive  oil,  half  an  ounce  of  rose  oil,  and 
scent  to  fancy. 

A  Hint  on  Baking. — A  basin  of  water 
put  into  the  oven  with  cakes  or  pastry  will 
keep  them  from  burning.  , 

To  Remove  Grease  from  Silk. — Lay  the 
silk  on  a  table,  on  a  clean  white  cloth.  Cover 
the  damage  thickly  with  powdered  French 
chalk.  On  this  lay  a  sheet  of  blotting-paper, 
and  on  the  top  a  hot  iron.  If  the  grease 
does  not  disappear  at  once,  repeat  the  process. 

To  Remove  Port  Wine  Stains. — If  a  glass 
of  port  wine  is  spilt  on  a  dress  or  table-cloth, 
immediately  dash  all  over  it  a  glass  of  sherry. 
Rub  vigorously  with  dry  soft  cloths.  No 
stains  will  be  left. 

To  Clean  Ladies*  Kid  Boots. — Dip  a  rag 
in  almond  oil,  and  remove  all  the  mud  from 
the  boot,  a  piece  at  a  time,  drying  as  you  go, 
and  never  leaving  the  leather  moist.  Polish 
with  clean  rag  and  more  oil.  If  you  dislike 
the  dulness  this  process  leaves,  when  quite 
dry  polish  with  the  palm  of  the  hand.  Kid 
is  thus  both  cleaned  and  preserved. 

Cleaning  Copper. — When  it  is  desired  to 
obtain  a  clean,  bright  surface  upon  copper, 
it  is  customary,  in  all  countries,  to  use  nitric 
acid.  In  this  way  the  desired  surface  is 
obtained  with  little  trouble,  and  at  once. 
There  is,  however,  the  objection  that  a  con 
siderable  quantity  of  nitrous  fumes  are  given 
off,  and  these  red  vapors  are  not  only  ex 
tremely  disagreeable,  but  are  very  prejudicial 
to  health.  The  production  of  these  vapors 
may  be  avoided  by  adding  a  little  solution 
of  bichromate  of  potash  to  the  dilute  nitric 
acid.  Kxperiment  proves  that  this  answer? 
perfectly.  The  copper  surface  is  brought 
out  clean  and  bright,  without  any  disengage 
ment  of  vapors.  On  sanitary  grounds,  this 


258 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  "LIFE. 


method  of  operating  deserves  to  become  ex 
tensively  known.  In  the  manufacture  of 
copperware,  a  great  deal  of  this  cleaning  is 
done,  and  the  frequent  exposure  to  the  fumes 
cannot  but  be  very  injurious  to  the  workmen. 
\  Cherry  Brandy. — Put  twenty-four  pounds 
of  ripe  cherries,  stoned,  and  four  pounds  of 
strawberries  in  a  cask;  bruise  them  well 
with  a  stick,  and  then  add  six  pounds  of 
sugar,  twenty-four  cloves,  some  cinnamon 
and  nutmegs,  together  with  the  kernels  of 
the  cherry  stones;  pour  over  them  three 
gallons  of  brandy.  Let  the  cask  remain 
open  for  ten  or  twelve  days,  and  then  close  it, 
and  let  it  remain  for  two  months,  when  it 
will  be  fit  for  use. 

Sparkling  Grape  Wine,  or  English  Cham 
pagne. — Remove  the  stalks  and  decayed 
grapes,  bruise  the  fruit,  and  to  every  pound 
put  one  quart  of  cold  water ;  let  it  stand  in  a 
convenient  vessel  three  days,  stirring  it  twice 
or  three  times  a  day ;  then  strain,  and  to  every 
gallon  of  liquor  add  three  and  a  quarter 
pounds  of  lump  sugar;  dissolve  this  as 
quickly  as  possible,  and  put  the  whole  at 
once,  into  the  cask.  Ten  days  afterwards 
put  into  the  cask  to  every  five  gallons  of 
wine  one  pint  of  brandy  and  a  quarter  of  an 
ounce  of  isinglass.  This  should  be  bottled  in 
champagne  bottles,  when  the  vines  are  in 
bloom  the  following  summer,  and  the  corks 
will  require  to  be  tied  or  wired  down.  The 
grapes  for  making  it  should  be  tolerably  but 
not  fully  ripe. 

Sweet  Grape  Wine. — Pick  the  grapes  as 
above,  crush  and  strain,  and  to  each  gallon 
of  juice  add  three  and  a  quarter  pounds  of 
lump  sugar;  put  it  immediately  into  the 
cask,  and  bottle  when  the  vines  bloom  the 
following  summer.  The  grapes  should  be 
fully  but  not  over-ripe. 

Sparkling  Green  Gooseberry  Wine. — Pick 
out  the  defective  gooseberries,  remove  the 


stalks  and  tails,  and  bruise  the  fruit  in  such 
a  manner  as  not  to  crush  the  seeds ;  to  every 
pound  put  one  quart  of  water.  This  must 
be  let  stand  three  or  four  days,  and  be  stirred 
three  or  four  times  a  day ;  then  strain,  and 
to  every  gallon  of  liquor  add  three  pounds 
of  coarse  loaf  sugar.  When  this  is  dissolved 
put  it  into  the  cask,  and  to  every  five  gallons 
of  wine  add  one  pint  of  brandy  and  a  quarter 
of  an  ounce  of  isinglass.  The  wine  will  gen 
erally  be  fit  to  bottle  in  five  months,  but  if  it 
be  found  too  sweet,  and  not  clear,  it  may  be 
allowed  to  remain  longer.  The  gooseberries 
should  be  taken  when  fully  grown,  but  be 
fore  they  begin  to  turn  ripe. 

Ripe  Gooseberry  Wine  (Still). — Pick  and 
bruise  the  fruit  in  a  convenient  tub  or  otner 
vessel,  and  let  it  stand  twenty-four  hours ; 
then  strain,  and  return  the  skins  and  seeds 
to  the  tub,  ana  pour  on  them  tolerably  hot 
water,  in  the  proportion  of  one  quart  to 
every  gallon  of  gooseberries ;  let  this  stand 
twelve  hours,  and  then  strain,  and  mix  the 
water  with  the  juice.  To  every  five  gallons 
of  this  liquor  add  twelve  pounds  of  lump 
sugar ;  let  it  ferment  well  in  the  tub,  then 
skim  off  the  head,  and  draw  off  as  much  of 
the  liquor  as  will  run  clear ;  put  this  in  the 
cask,  and  add  to  every  five  gallons  two  quarts 
of  brandy.  To  be  in  perfection  it  should 
not  be  bottled  for  five  years,  but  it  may  be 
used,  if  necessary,  at  the  expiration  of  twelve 
months. 

Currant  Wine. — Bruise  ripe  currants  with 
their  stalks,  and  to  every  fourteen  pounds 
put  eleven  quarts  of  water.  Let  them  stand 
twenty-four  hours ;  then  strain,  add  one 
pound  of  lump  sugar  to  each  pound  of  cur 
rants,  and  stir  twice  a  day  for  two  days; 
afterwards  put  the  liquor  into  the  cask  with 
a  pint  of  brandy  to  each  fourteen  pounds  of 
fruit.  Three  quarts  of  raspberries  or  straw 
berries  to  each  fourteen  pounds  of  currants 


is  considered  an  improvement.  To  white 
currant  wine  some  persons  add  a  few  bitter 
almonds,  pounded.  Currant  wines  should 
not  be  bottled  for  twelve  months,  and  will 
improve  if  left  for  a  longer  period.  Ripe 
gooseberry  wine  may  be  made  by  the  same 
formula,  if  desired. 

Strawberry  or  Raspberry  Wine. — Bruise 
three  gallons  of  either  fruit,  and  add  to  it  an 
equal  measure  of  water ;  let  them  stand 
twenty-four  hours ;  then  add  two  gallons  of 
cider,  eight  pounds  of  lump  sugar,  the  rind 
of  a  lemon  cut  thin,  and  one  ounce  of 
powdered  red  tartar.  Put  into  the  cask 
with  one  gallon  of  brandy.  For  raspberry 
wine  a  gallon  of  currant  juice,  substituted 
for  a  like  quantity  of  water,  will  be  an  im 
provement. 

Damson  Wine. — To  four  gallons  of  dam 
sons  pour  four  gallons  of  boiling  water  in  a 
tub  or  other  convenient  vessel ;  let  this  stand 
four  or  five  days,  and  stir  it  every  day  with 
the  hand ;  then  strain,  and  to  every  gallon 
of  liquor  add  three  and  a  half  pounds  of  lump 
sugar ;  when  this  is  dissolved  put  the  whole 
into  the  cask.  It  may  be  bottled  in  twelve 
months. 

Cherry  Wine. — Same  as  damson,  but  as 
cherries  are  sweeter,  three  pounds  of  sugar 
only  need  be  used  to  the  above  quantity. 
Many  persons  like  the  flavor  of  the  kernels 
in  damson  and  cherry  wines ;  to  give  this, 
one-eighth  of  the  stones  should  be  broken, 
and  infused  with  the  fruit. 

Sloe  Wine. — Same  as  damson,  but  four 
pounds  of  sugar  should  be  used  instead  of 
ihree  and  a  half  to  the  above  quantity.  A 
considerable  length  of  time  should  be  given 
i.o  the  sloe  wine  in  the  cask,  and  it  will  be 
come  little  inferior  to  port. 

Rhubarb  Wine  (Sparkling). — Cut  five 
pounds  of  rhubarb  into  short  pieces  as  for 
tarts,  and  pour  on  them  a  gallon  of  water ; 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD.  259 

let  this  stand  five  days,  and  stir  each  day ; 
then  strain  off,  and  to  the  liquor  add  four 
pounds  of  lump  sugar.  When  this  is  dis 
solved  put  it  into  the  cask  with  one  lemon 
and  one  pennyworth  of  isinglass.  This  will 
be  fit  to  bottle  in  six  months. 

Apple  Wine. — To  a  gallon  of  cider  (new 
from  the  mill)  add  a  pound  and  a  half  of 
moist  sugar,  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  raisins, 
and  half  a  lemon ;  put  in  the  cask  as  soon 
as  the  sugar  is  dissolved.  This  will  be  fit  for 
use  in  two  months. 

As  the  fruits  or  other  vegetable  substances 
on  which  the  foregoing  wines  are  based  con 
tain  a  natural  ferment,  they  will  undergo  that 
process  spontaneously,  and  require  no  yeast 
Those  that  follow  will  require  yeast  to  make 
them  ferment. 

Ginger  Wine. — To  six  gallons  of  watel 
put  eighteen  pounds  of  lump  sugar,  the  rinds 
(thinly  pared)  of  seven  lemons  and  eight 
oranges,  and  eight  ounces  of  ginger;  boil 
the  whole  for  an  hour,  and  let  it  cool.  When 
lukewarm  add  the  juice  of  the  above  fruit 
and  three  pounds  of  raisins.  Work  with 
yeast,  and  put  it  into  the  cask  with  half  an 
ounce  of  isinglass.  This  will  be  fit  to  bottle 
in  six  or  eight  weeks. 

Orange  Wine. — Boil  thirty  pounds  of  lump 
sugar  in  ten  gallons  of  water  for  half  an  hour, 
taking  off  the  scum  as  it  rises.  When  the 
water  has  become  nearly  cold,  put  to  it  the 
juice  of  one  hundred  Seville  oranges,  and 
the  peel  of  fifty ;  ferment  with  half  a  pint 
of  yeast  on  a  toast ;  let  it  stand  twenty-four 
hours  to  ferment ;  then  put  it  into  the  cask 
with  one  quart  of  brandy.  When  fermen 
tation  ceases  stop  it  close  for  three  months; 
then  rack  it  ofF,  and  put  it  again  into  the 
cask  with  one  quart  more  brandy  and  one 
and  a  half  pounds  of  raw  sugar.  This  will 
be  fit  to  bottle  in  twelve  months. 

To  Wash  Silk. — Lay  the  silk  smoothly  on 


200 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


a  clean  board,  rub  soap  upon  it,  and  brush  it 
with  a  rather  hard  brush.  The  amount  of 
brushing  requisite  will  depend  on  the  quantity 
of  grease  upon  the  silk.  When  it  has  been 
sufficiently  brushed  with  the  soap  to  cleanse 
It  from  grease  and  dirt,  it  should  be  well 
brushed  on  both  sides  with  clean  cold  water. 
A  little  alum  infused  in  the  last  water  with 
which  the  silk  is  brushed  will  prevent  the 
colors  from  spreading.  Should  there  be  any 
patches  of  grease  upon  the  silk,  they  should 
be  removed  as  previously  described,  or  by 
the  application  of  a  little  camphine  and 
alcohol.  Folding  or  wringing  silk  when 
wet  must  be  scrupulously  avoided,  as  creases 
made  in  silk  when  wet  will  never  disappear ; 
and,  in  like  manner,  hot  suds  must  not  be 
used  for  washing  silks,  as  it  will  in  most 
instances  remove  the  colors. 

To  Clean  Colored  Fabrics. — Nearly  all 
colored  fabrics  stain  the  lather  used  to  clean 
them,  and  that  without  losing  their  own 
brightness  in  any  way.  No  article  of  a  dif 
ferent  color  must  be  plunged  into  a  wash  or 
rinse  so  stained,  but  must  have  fresh  ones  ; 
and  no  colored  article  must  be  rinsed  in  a 
blued  lather.  Scarlet  is  particularly  prone 
to  color  a  wash. 

Different  colors  are  improved  by  different 
substances  being  used  in  the  wash  or  rinse  ; 
sugar  of  lead  has  the  credit  of  fixing  all 
colors  when  first  cleaned,  and  may  be  used 
to  those  likely  to  run.  To  brighten  colors, 
mix  some  ox-gall,  say  two  pennyworth  ;  but 
of  course  the  quantity  must  be  regulated  by 
the  quantity  of  suds  in  the  wash  and  rinse. 
For  buff  and  cream-colored  alpaca  or  cash 
mere,  mix  in  the  wash  and  rinse  two  penny 
worth  of  friar's  balsam  for  one  skirt  For 
black  materials,  for  one  dress,  two  penny 
worth  of  ammonia  in  the  wash  and  rinse. 
For  violet,  ammonia  or  a  small  quantity  of 
Boda  in  the  rinsing  water.  There  are  some 


violets  and  mauves  that  fade  in  soaa.  Foi 
green,  vinegar  in  the  rinse,  in  the  proportion 
of  two  tablespoonfuls  of  vinegar  to  a  quart 
of  rinse.  For  blue,  to  one  dress,  a  good 
handful  of  common  salt  in  the  rinse.  For 
brown  and  gray,  ox-gall.  For  white,  blue 
the  water  with  laundry  blue. 

Dresses,  mantles,  shawls,  opera-cloaks, 
under-skirts,  Garibaldis  and  Zouaves,  (the 
latter  and  such  small  articles  need  not  be 
unpicked  if  the  trimming  is  removed),  articles 
embroidered  with  silk,  self-colored  or  chintz- 
colored,  damask  curtaining,  moreen  and 
other  woollen  curtaining,  may  all  be  cleansed 
as  specified  so  far. 

Blankets  should  be  cleaned  in  the  same 
way.  Pull  them  out  well,  whilst  wet,  at 
both  sides  and  both  ends,  between  two  per 
sons.  When  half  dry  it  is  a  good  plan  to 
take  them  off  the  line  and  pull  them  again  ; 
when  quite  dry,  just  give  them  a  little  more 
pulling  out.  This  keeps  them  open  and 
soft.  Blankets  are  not  blued  so  much  as 
flannels,  presently  described.  Never  use 
soda  to  them,  and  never  rinse  them  in  plain 
water  or  rub  on  soap. 

The  dyers  and  cleaners  have  a  mode  of 
pressing  articles  which  gives  to  many  of 
them,  such  as  damask  and  moreen  curtaining 
and  Paisley  shawls,  a  superior  appearance  to 
anything  that  can  be  achieved  at  home  ;  but 
some  of  them  will  press  articles  at  a  fixed 
price  for  persons  cleaning  them  at  home. 

Worsted  braids  and  fancy  trimmings  can 
be  cleaned  the  same  way. 

Muslin  dresses,  even  of  the  most  delicate 
colors,  can  be  cleaned  in  ten  minutes  or  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  without  losing  their  color. 
Melt  half  a  pound  of  soap  in  a  gallon  of 
water ;  empty  it  in  a  washing  tub ;  place 
near  two  other  large  tubs  of  clean  water,  and 
stir  into  it  one  quart  of  bran.  Put  the  mus 
lin  in  the  soap,  turn  it  over,  and  knead  it  for 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


261 


a  few  minutes ;  squeeze  it  out  well,  but  do 
not  wring  it,  lest  it  get  torn ;  rinse  it  about 
quickly  in  the  bran  for  a  couple  of  minutes. 
Rinse  again  well  for  a  couple  of  minutes  in 
clean  water.  Squeeze  out  dry  and  hang  it 
between  two  lines.  A  clear  dry  day  should 
be  chosen  to  wash  muslin  dresses ;  half  a 
dozen  may  be  done  in  this  way  in  half  an 
hour.  The  last  rinse  may  be  prepared  the 
same  way  as  the  rinses  for  woollen  fabrics. 
A  colored  pattern  on  a  white  ground  must 
not  be  blued.  The  bran  may  here  be  dis 
pensed  with. 

When  the  dress  is  dry  make  the  starch  ; 
for  a  colored  muslin,  white  starch,  and  un 
boiled,  but  made  with  boiling  water,  is  best 
for  muslin  dresses.  Stir  the  starch  with  the 
end  of  a  wax  candle.  Dip  the  dres&  Hang 
it  again  to  dry.  When  dry,  rinse  it  quickly 
and  thoroughly  in  clear  water.  Hang  it  to 
dry  again.  Sprinkle  and  roll  it  up ;  after 
wards  iron  it  with  very  hot  irons.  Hot  irons 
keep  the  starch  stiff.  This  rinsing  after 
starching  is  called  clear-starching ;  none  of 
the  stiffness  but  much  of  the  unsightliness  of 
the  starch  is  removed  in  this  way. 

All  kinds  of  white  muslins,  lace  curtains, 
cravats,  etc.,  may  be  washed  in  a  thick  lye  of 
soap,  as  described,  well  rinsed,  blued  and 
starched,  like  the  muslin  dresses  above 
named.  Use  blue  starch  to  white.  White 
muslin  Garibaldis  should  be  very  slightly 
blued,  and  the  same  may  be  observed  of 
book-muslin  dresses  and  cravats,  as  blue- 
looking  muslin  is  very  unbecoming  to  the 
complexion  ;  a  slight  creamy  tinge  is  pre 
ferable. 

Morning  cambric  dresses  may  be  washed 
the  same  way  as  muslin  dresses ;  but  they  do 
not  generally  clean  quite  so  readily,  and  per 
haps  may  need  rubbing  a  little  in  places  that 
are  soiled. 

The  advantage  of  thus  cleaning'  dresses  in 


stead  of  washing  them  is  first,  if  colored,  the 
process  is  so  rapid  that  there  is  not  time  fof 
the  colors  to  run.  Secondly,  the  fabric  is 
not  rubbed,  and  therefore  not  strained  and 
worn  out.  Thirdly,  the  process  saves  nearly 
all  labor,  and  is  so  quickly  done  that  any 
lady  may  manage  it  foi  herself  in  the  absence 
oi  a  laundry  maid  or  a  lady's  maid. 

Many  ladies  make  a  trong  solution  of 
sugar  of  lead — some  put  two  pennyworth  in 
enough  cold  water  for  one  dress ;  stir  it  well 
when  dissolved,  and  let  the  dress,  muslin  or 
cotton,  soak  a  couple  of  hours  to  set  the 
colors  before  washing  it  the  first  time.  It 
does  not  need  to  be  repeated.  Those  using 
sugar  of  lead  should  be  careful  nor  to  do  so 
if  they  have  any  scratches,  abrasions,  or 
wounds  about  their  hands. 

Chintz  may  be  cleaned  in  the  same  way  as 
muslin  and  print  dresses. 

To  Clean  Black  Silk  with  very  Little 
Trouble  and  Expense. — Take  entirely  to 
pieces  the  dress,  jacket,  etc.,  and  well  shake 
each  piece  ;  then  spread  over  a  table  a  news 
paper,  or  sheet  of  clean  paper,  and  on  it  lay 
a  breadth  of  the  silk.  Brush  it  well  both 
sides  with  a  fine  soft  brush — a  hat  brush 
would  very  well  answer  the  purpose.  Shake 
it  again  ;  fold  together  in  half,  and  place  it 
on  one  side  of  the  table.  In  the  same  man 
ner  shake,  brush,  and  shake  again  each  piece 
of  the  silk.  Remove  the  paper,  and  place  or 
the  table  a  clean  newspaper  or  sheet  of  paper. 
Newspapers  answer  best ;  they  are  large  and 
smooth,  and  probably  at  hand.  On  the 
paper  again  place  a  breadth  of  the  silk,  and 
into  a  clean  quart  pudding-basin  pour  a  half 
pint  of  cold  water,  adding  half  a  pint  of  good 
sweetened  gin,  which  is  better  for  the  pur 
pose  than  unsweetened,  as  the  sugar  stiffens 
the  silk.  These  are  the  proportions  for  any 
quantity  required.  Have  ready  a  piece  of 
black  crape  or  black  merino  about  half  a 


2(52 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


yard  square  ;  dip  it  well  into  the  liquid,  and 
thoroughly  wash  over  the  best  side  of  the 
silk.  Be  careful  that  it  is  well  cleaned,  and, 
if  possible,  wash  it  from  edge  to  edge,  and 
wet  it  well  all  over.  Then  fold  over  the  silk 
in  half;  then  again,  till  the  folds  are  the 
aridth  of  those  of  new  silk.  Place  it  in  a 
clean  towel,  and  clean  each  piece  of  the  silk 
in  the  same  manner,  laying  one  piece  on  the 
other,  and  remembering  by  a  mark  which  is 
the  last  piece  done,  as  that  must  be  the  last 
ironed.  Let  the  silk  lie  folded  in  the  towel 
until  a  large  iron  is  well  heated  ;  but  be 
careful  that  it  is  not  too  hot ;  try  it  first  on 
paper,  or  a  piece  of  old  damped  silk.  Use 
two  irons.  Open  the  towel  when  the  iron 
is  ready,  and  place  the  piece  of  silk  that  was 
first  cleaned  on  an  old  table-cloth  or  sheet 
folded  thick  ;  iron  the  wrong  side  quickly, 
from  edge  to  edge,  until  dry.  Fold  the  silk 
over  lightly  to  the  width  of  new  silk,  and 
place  it  on  one  end  of  the  table  until  all  is 
done.  This  simple  process  stiffens,  cleans, 
and  makes  the  silk  look  new. 

Directions  for  Cleaning  Black  Merino,  or 
any  Woolen  Stuff,  Black  Cloth  Jackets, 
Cloaks,  or  Gentlemen's  Clothes,  etc. — Pur 
chase,  at  a  chemist's,  five  cents  worth  of 
carbonate  of  ammonia.  Place  it  in  a  clean 
quart  pudding-basin,  and  pour  upon  it  a  pint 
of  boiling  water ;  cover  it  over  with  a  clean 
plate,  and  let  it  stand  to  get  cold.  Having 
taken  entirely  to  pieces  the  dress,  jacket,  or 
cloak,  shake  each  piece  well ;  then  spread  a 
large  newspaper  over  a  deal  table,  place  one 
breadth  of  the  material  upon  it,  and  brush  it 
well  on  both  sides  with  a  fine  hard  brush  ; 
shake  it  again  and  place  it  on  one  side  of 
the  table,  folded  in  half.  Brush  and  shake 
in  the  same  manner  each  piece  folding  and 
placing  one  piece  on  the  other  at  the  end  of 
the  table.  When  all  are  brushed,  remove 
the  paper  and  replace  it  with  a  fresh,  one, 


upon  which  place  another,  if  thin. 
upon  the  paper  one  breadth  of  the  stuff, 
quite  smooth  and  flat,  the  wrong  side  next 
the  paper;  then  take  a  piece  of  black 
merino,  about  half  a  yard  square ;  dip  it  in 
the  carbonate  of  ammonia  and  water  (cold)? 
well  wet  it,  and  wash  over  the  stuff  o 
cloth.  If  cloth,  care  must  be  taken  to  wash 
it  the  right  way,  so  as  to  keep  it  smooth; 
when  well  washed  over,  fold  the  material  in 
half,  and  place  it  in  a  clean  towel,  laying 
one  piece  over  the  other,  until  all  are  done. 
Mark  the  last,  as  that  will  be  the  last  to  be 
ironed.  Let  the  merino,  or  cloth,  rest  in  the 
towel  for  about  an  hour;  then  iron  the 
wrong  side,  after  placing  it  on  a  thickly 
folded  blanket,  or  sheet,  with  a  thin  sheet  of 
paper,  old  glazed  lining  out  of  the  dress,  or 
piece  of  linen,  over  the  blanket  or  sheet 
Iron  each  piece  on  the  wrong  side  until  quite 
dry,  and  have  two  heavy  irons,  one  heating 
while  the  other  is  in  use.  Fold  over  the 
pieces,  the  width  of  new  merino,  but  be 
careful  not  to  fold  it  so  as  to  mark  it  sharply, 
especially  cloth.  Gentlemen's  clothes  can 
thus  be  cleaned  without  taking  to  pieces,  or 
ironing,  unless  quite  convenient  Vest  and 
coat  collars  are  thus  easily  renovated,  the 
color  is  revived,  grease  spots  and  v,vhite 
seams  removed. 

To  Renovate  Crape. — Brush  the  crape 
well  with  a  soft  brush,  and  over  a  wide- 
mouthed  jug  of  boiling  water  hold  tightly 
the  crape,  gradually  stretching  it  over  the 
jug  of  boiling  water.  If  a  strip  of  crape,  it 
is  very  easily  held  tightly  over  the  water, 
letting  the  piece  done  fall  over  the  jug  until 
all  is  completed.  The  crape  will  become 
firm  and  fit  for  use,  every  mark  and  fold 
being  removed.  White  or  colored  crape  may 
be  washed  and  pinned  over  a  newspaper,  01 
towel,  on  the  outside  of  a  bed,  until  dry. 
Crape  that  has  been  exposed  to  rain  ordain|j 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


263 


—veils  especially — may  be  saved  from  spoil 
ing  by  being  stretched  tightly  on  the  outside 
of  the  bed  with  pins,  until  dry;  and  no  crape 
should  be  left  to  dry  without  having  been 
pulled  into  proper  form.  If  black  crape,  lace, 
cr  net  is  faded  or  turned  brown,  it  may  be 
dipped  into  water,  colored  with  the  bluebag, 
adding  a  lump  of  loaf-sugar  to  stiffen,  and 
pinned  onto  a  newspaper  on  a  bed. 

Washing  Clothes. — If  pipe-clay  is  dis 
solved  in  the  water,  the  linen  is  thoroughly 
cleansed  with  half  the  labor  and  fully  a 
saving  of  one-fourth  of  soap;  and  the 
clothes  will  be  improved  in  color  equally  as 
if  bleached.  The  pipe-clay  softens  the 
hardest  water.  A  cent's  worth  to  four  gal 
lons  of  water. 

To  Keep  Moths  from  Fur  and  Woolen 
Clothes. — In  May  brush  fur  and  woolen 
clothes,  wrap  them  tightly  up  in  linen,  and 
put  them  away  in  drawers.  Pepper  or  red 
cedar  chips  are  good  preservatives  from 
moths,  but  camphor  is  the  best. 

Washing  Chintzes. — These  should  always 
be  washed  in  dry  weather,  but  if  it  is  very 
cold  it  is  better  to  dry  them  by  the  fire  than 
risk  spoiling  the  colors  from  freezing  in  the 
open  air.  It  is  better,  if  possible,  to  defer 
their  washing  till  the  weather  is  suitable. 

To  Clean  Paint. — Simmer  together  in  a 
pipkin  one  pound  of  soft  soap,  two  ounces  soft 
pearlash,  one  pint  of  sand,  and  one  pint  of 
table  beer ;  to  be  used  as  soap. 

Another  Way. — Grate  to  a  fine  pulp  four 
potatoes  to  every  quart  of  water;  stir  it; 
then  let  it  settle,  and  pour  off  the  liquor. 
To  be  used  with  a  sponge. 

Wash-Leather  Gloves.  — The  grease  spots 
should  be  first  removed  by  rubbing  them 
with  magnesia,  cream  of  tartar,  or  Wilming 
ton  clay  scraped  to  powder.  Make  a  lather 
of  soap  and  water,  put  the  gloves  into  the 
water  lukewarm,  as  hot  water  will  shrink 


them ;  wash  and  squeeze  them  through  this, 
then  squeeze  them  through  a  second  sud. 
Rinse  in  lukewarm  water,  then  in  cold,  and 
dry  them  in  a  hot  sun  or  before  the  fire,  well 
stretching  them,  to  prevent  them  from 
shrinking. 

To  Mend  China. — A  very  fine  cement  may 
be  made  by  boiling  down  a  little  isinglass, 
and  afterwards  adding  to  it  about  half  the 
quantity  ol  spirits  of  wine,  which  should  be 
applied  while  warm.  This  cement  is  especi 
ally  valuable  in  mending  glass,  as  it  is  free 
from  any  opaque  appearance.  A  very  strong 
cement  may  be  made  in  the  following 
manner,  and  kept  for  application  at  any 
time : — Heat  a  piece  of  white  flint  stone  to 
a  white  heat,  and  cast  it,  while  at  this  heat, 
into  a  vessel  of  cold  water,  which  will  re 
duce  it  to  a  fine  powder.  Carefully  preserve 
this  flint  powder,  and  mix  it  with  rosin  to 
the  consistency  of  thick  paste.  The  rosin 
should  be  heated  in  an  earthenware  pipkir. 
To  apply  this  cement,  heat  the  edges  of  the 
pieces  of  the  article  to  be  mended,  rub  upon 
them  this  cement,  and  place  them  neatly  and 
well  togf  ther.  W1^en  dry,  scrape  off  all 
excresce?  tce  of  the  cement  when  the  article 
will  be  perfect. 

Damp  'W'^is. — Boil  two  quarts  of  tai 
with  t^o  ounces  of  kitchen  grease  in  an 
iron  saucepan  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour;  to 
this  mixture  add  some  slaked  lime  and  very 
finely-pounded  glass,  which  has  previously 
been  through  a  hair-sieve.  The  proportions 
should  be  two  parts  lime  to  one  of  glass, 
worked  to  the  thickness  of  a  thin  plaster. 
This  cement  must  be  used  as  soon  as  made, 
or  else  it  will  become  too  hard.  One  coat, 
about  an  inch  thick,  has  generally  answered 
the  purpose,  but  if  the  wall  is  very  damp, 
it  may  receive  two  coats.  Paint  over  the 
cement  or  plaster,  and  paper  may  be  used  to 
cover  it 


264 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


To  Restore  Plated  Cruet-Stands,  Candle 
sticks,  etc.,  when  the  Silver  is  worn  off. — 

Purchase  at  the  chemist's  four  cents'  worth 
of  mercury,  and  two  cents'  worth  of  prepared 
chalk,  mix  as  a  powder.  Half  the  chalk 
may  be  used.  Make  it  into  a  paste  with  a 
little  water,  in  a  saucer,  and  with  a  small 
piece  of  leather  rub  the  article  until  the 
tarnish  quite  disappears.  Polish  with  a 
leather.  If  this  powder  is  used  about  once 
a  week  to  plated  articles,  when  worn,  they 
will  be  kept  as  white  as  silver. 

Freckles. — To  remove  freckles,  take  one 
ounce  of  lemon-juice,  a  quarter  of  a  drachm 
of  powdered  borax,  and  half  a  drachm  of 
sugar ;  mix,  and  let  them  stand  a  few  days 
in  a  glass  bottle,  then  rtik  it  on  the  face  and 
hands  occasionally. 

To  Clean  Dirty  or  Stained  Furniture. — 
If  the  furniture  is  in  a  bad  state,  but  not 
stained,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  cleanse  it  by 
well  washing  with  spirits  of  turpentine,  and 
afterwards  polishing  with  linseed  oil  colored 
with  alkanet  root.  When,  however,  the  fur 
niture  is  stained  or  inky,  it  should  be  washed 
with  sour  beer  or  vinegar,  warm  ;  afterwards 
rubbing  the  stains  with  spirit  of  salts  rubbed 
on  with  a  piece  of  rag,  which  will  remove 
all  the  stains.  The  wood  may  then  be  pol 
ished,  with  linseed  oil  colored  with  alkanet 
root,  or  with  beeswax,  dissolved  in  turpentine, 
with  a  little  copal  varnish  or  resin  added. 

To  Render  New  Mahogany  Like  Old. — 
This  is  of  service  in  the  cases  of  furniture 
repaired,  or  when  lacquered  handles  have 
been  changed  for  mahogany  ones.  Soap  and 
watei  will  darken  to  some  extent ;  but  if 
darker  is  required,  use  oil ;  or  for  very  dark, 
lime-water. 

To  Clean  Lacquered  Brass-work  of  Fur 
niture. — Wash  in  warm  water,  using  a  soft 
rag.  If  the  work  will  not  clean  by  this 
means,  it  must  be  re-lacquered. 


To  Make  Colored  Drawings  or  Prints 
Resemble  Oil-Paintings. — This  is  a  favorite 
plan  of  treating  pictures,  as  it  gives  them  a 
showy  appearance,  and  prevents  their  requir 
ing  glasses.  Wash  over  the  drawing  or  print 
with  a  solution  of  isinglass,  and  when  dry 
apply  with  a  very  fine  soft  brush  a  varnish, 
composed  of  two  parts  of  spirits  of  turpentine 
and  one  of  Canada  balsam,  mixed  together. 
This  plan  of  treating  pictures  is  much  used. 

Asphalt  for  Garden-Walks,  Fowl- 
Houses,  Sheds,  etc. — Having  laid  the  walk 
quite  even,  and  beaten  it  firm,  pour  upon  it 
a  coat  of  hot  tar;  while  hot,  sift  thickly  all 
over  it  road-dust  or  cinder-ashes.  When 
cold,  repeat  the  same  process  several  times, 
and  a  good,  hard,  durable  and  wholesome 
flooring  will  be  effected.  It  is  particularly 
recommended  for  the  purpose  of  fowl-houses, 
as  being  very  healthy  to  the  stock. 

To  Repair  Broken  Walls. — Mix  with 
water  equal  parts  of  plaster  of  Paris  and 
white  house-sand,  with  which  stop  the  broken 
place  in  the  wall. 

To  Clean  Looking-Glasses. — Having 
dusted  the  glass  with  a  soft  duster  quite  free 
from  grit,  in  order  not  to  scratch  the  glass, 
sponge  it  with  diluted  spirits  of  wine  or  gin, 
and  dust  over  it  a  little  very  fine  powdei 
through  a  muslin  bag  ;  rub  the. glass,  with  A 
light  hand,  with  the  soft  duster,  and  finish 
off  with  a  soft  piece  of  silk  or  old  hand  • 
kerchief. 

To  Clean  Stone  Steps  and  Stairs.— 
Where  there  are  large  flights  of  stone  steps 
and  flagged  pathways,  the  process  of  cleaning 
is  a  long  and  tedious  one.  The  common 
method  of  cleaning  with  hearthstone,  or 
caked  whitening,  not  only  gives  a  smeary 
appearance,  but  washes  off  with  a  shower  of 
rain.  The  preparation  which  we  here  give 
not  only  has  a  great  preference  in  appear 
ance,  but,  in  the  long  run,  saves  labor ;  as 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


265 


with  it  twice  a  week  is  sufficient  for  whiten 
ing,  and  the  remaining  days  washing  will 
be  found  sufficient.  Take  a  gallon  of  water, 
and  color  to  the  intensity  of  deep-colored 
blue  water  with  stone-blue.  Boil  in  it  a 
pound  of  white  size,  and  dissolve  in  it  a 
quarter  of  a  pound  of  whitening  and  three 
cakes  of  pipe-clay,  stirring  it  well  about. 
Wash  over  the  steps  with  this  solution  in  a 
slight,  quick  manner,  and  afterwards  finish 
with  clean  water  in  the  usual  way. 

Liquid  Glue  and  Cement. — Take  of 
crushed  orange-shellac  four  ounces,  of  recti 
fied  spirit  of  wine  (strong),  or  rectified  wood 
naphtha,  three  ounces.  The  rectified  spirit 
«f  wine  makes  a  far  superior  composition, 
but  the  other  is  good  enough  for  all  ordinary 
work.  Dissolve  the  shellac  in  the  spirit,  in 
a  corked  bottle  in  a  warm  place ;  frequent 
shaking  will  assist  it  in  dissolving,  and  it 
should  also  be  shaken  before  use.  This 
composition  may  be  used  as  a  varnish  for 
unpainted  wood. 

Cement  for  Mending  Broken  Vessels. — 
To  half  a  pint  of  milk  put  a  sufficient  quan 
tity  of  vinegar  in  order  to  curdle  it;  separate 
the  curd  from  the  whey,  and  mix  the  whey 
with  the  whites  of  four  eggs,  beating  the 
whole  well  together;  when  mixed,  add  a 
little  quick-lime  through  a  sieve  until  it 
acquires  the  consistency  of  a  paste.  With 
this  cement  broken  vessels  or  cracks  can  be 
repaired ;  it  dries  quickly,  and  resists  the 
action  of  fire  and  water. 

Red  Ink. — Take  of  white  wine  vinegar 
one  quart,  powdered  Brazil  wood  two  ounces, 
and  alum  half  an  ounce;  infuse  them 
together  for  ten  days,  then  let  them  gently 
simmer  over  a  slow  fire,  after  which  add  a 
good  half  ounce  of  gum  arabic.  When  the 
gum  is  dissolved,  strain  the  mixture  and 
bottle  it  for  use.  Ink  thus  prepared  will 
keep  its  color  for  many  years. 


Violet  Ink. — Boil  a  good  quantity  of 
logwood  chips  in  vinegar,  and  add  to  the 
mixture  a  little  alum  and  gum  arabic.  The 
depth  of  the  tint  may  be  modified  by  vary 
ing  the  proportions  of  logwood  and  vinegar. 

Black  Ink. — Heat  a  quart  of  rain  water 
till  it  almost  boils,  and  then  put  into  it  twc 
ounces  of  green  copperas;  when  cold  strain 
it,  and  add  to  the  liquor  five  ounces  of 
powdered  galls  and  two  ounces  of  loaf-sugar. 
This  ink  keeps  its  color  well. 

Paste  for  Moulding. — Melt  some  glue  in 
water,  and  let  it  be  tolerably  strong.  Mix 
with  this  whiting  until  it  is  as  firm  as  dough; 
then  work  it  into  the  moulds,  which  mnst 
be  previously  oiled. 

Polish  for  Marble. — Melt  over  a  slow  fire 
four  ounces  of  white  wax,  and  while  it  is 
warm  stir  into  it  with  a  wooden  spatula  an 
equal  weight  of  oil  of  turpentine;  when 
thoroughly  incorporated,  put  the  mixture 
into  a  bottle  or  other  vessel,  which  must 
be  well  corked  whenever  not  in  use.  A 
little  of  the  above  is  put  upon  a  piece  of 
flannel  and  well  rubbed  upon  the  marble. 
Another :  Fine  rotten  stone,  with  olive  oil, 
rubbed  upon  the  marble  till  the  desired  lustre 
is  attained. 

Candied  Horehound. — Take  some  hore- 
hound  and  boil  it  till  the  juice  is  extracted, 
when  sugar,  which  has  been  previously 
boiled  until  candied,  must  be  added  to  it. 
Stir  the  compound  over  the  fire  until  it 
thickens.  Pour  it  out  into  a  paper  case 
dusted  over  with  fine  sugar,  and  cut  it  into 
squares  or  any  other  shapes  desired. 

Peppermint  Drops. — A  brass  or  block-tin 
saucepan  must  be  rubbed  over  inside  with  a 
little  butter.  Put  into  it  half  a  pound  of 
crushed  lump  sugar  with  a  tablespoonful  or 
so  of  water.  Place  it  over  the  fire,  and  let 
it  boil  briskly  for  ten  minutes,  when  a  dessert 
spoonful  of  essence  of  peppermint  is  to  be 


266 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


stirreu  into  it.  It  may  then  be  let  fall  in 
drops  upon  writing  paper,  or  poured  out 
upon  plates  which  have  been  rubbed  over 
with  butter. 

Ginger  Drops. — Mix  one  ounce  of  prepared 
ginger  with  one  pound  of  loaf-sugar;  beat 
to  a  paste  two  ounces  of  fresh  candied  orange 
hi  a  mortar,  with  a  little  sugar.  Put  the 
above  into  a  brass  or  block-tin  saucepan  with 
a  little  water.  Stir  them  all  well,  and  boil 
until  they  are  sufficiently  amalgamated, 
which  will  be  when  the  mixture  thickens 
like  ordinary  candied  sugar.  Pour  out  on 
writing  paper  in  drops,  or  on  plates  as  for 
peppermint  drops. 

Lemon  Drops. — Grate  three  large  lemons ; 
then  take  a  large  piece  of  best  lump  sugar 
and  reduce  it  to  a  powder.  Mix  the  sugar 
and  lemon  on  a  plate  with  half  a  teaspoon- 
ful  of  flour,  and  beat  the  compound  with 
the  white  of  an  egg  until  it  forms  a  light 
paste.  It  must  then  be  placed  in  drops  on  a 
clean  sheet  of  writing  paper,  and  placed 
before  the  fire — to  dry  hard  rather  than  to 
bake. 

Polish  for  Furniture. — White  wax  and 
oil  of  turpentine,  as  in  the  directions  for 
polish  for  marble.  A  small  quantity  applied 
with  flannel  or  other  woolen  cloth,  and  well 
rubbed,  is  excellent  for  mahogany  and 
Walnut.  If  it  is  desired  to  give  a  yellowish 
tint  for  light  colored  wood,  the  turpentine 
should  have  infused  into  it,  for  forty-eight 
hours  before  mixing,  a  small  quantity  of 
quercitron,  or  dyer's  oak.  To  give  it  a 
reddish  tinge,  a  little  alkanet  may  be  used  in 
the  same  way  as  the  quercitron. 

Opodeldoc. — Opodeldoc  and  soap  liniment 
£re  the  same  thing.  It  is  a  popular  external 
application  for  local  pains  and  swellings, 
bruises,  sprains,  and  rheumatism.  There 
are  several  ways  of  making  it.  One  recipe 
is:  One  ounce  of  camphor,  five  ounces  of 


castile  soap,  one  drachm  of  oil  of  rosemary, 
one  and  a  quarter  pints  of  rectified  spirits  of 
wine,  and  one  and  a  quarter  pints  of  water. 
This  requires  to  digest  for  a  week,  and  to  be 
occasionally  stirred.  When  ready,  filter  aud 
bottle  for  use. 

Eau  de  Cologne. — An  excellent  form  oi 
eau  de  Cologne  may  be  thus  prepared :  Take 
two  drachms  of  the  seeds  of  the  lesser  carda 
mom,  and  put  them  into  a  still  with  two 
quarts  of  rectified  spirits  of  wine,  and  add 
twenty-four  drops  of  each  of  the  following 
oils :  bergamot,  lemon,  orange,  neroli,  rose 
mary,  and  cedrat ;  allow  them  to  remain  for 
a  few  days,  and  then  distil  three  pints  of 
perfume.  Sometimes  a  stronger  preparation 
is  made  by  employing  half  the  quantity  of 
spirit  to  the  same  quantity  of  materials. 
This  preparation  may  also  be  made  by 
omitting  the  seeds,  and  dissolving  the  oils 
in  the  spirit  without  distillation.  In  this 
case  the  perfume  will  be  improved  by 
allowing  the  eau  de  Cologne,  when  made,  to 
remain  at  rest  in  a  cool  place,  such  as  a 
dry  wine-cellar,  for  two  or  three  months 
before  being  used. 

A  good  kind  of  eau  de  Cologne  is  thus 
prepared :  Take  a  quarter  of  an  ounce  of  the 
oils  of  lemon  and  bergamot,  and  half  that 
quantity  of  oil  of  orange  peel,  half  a  drachm 
of  oil  of  rosemary,  and  forty  drops  of  the 
oil  of  neroli,  and  dissolve  them  in  one  pint 
of  rectified  spirits  of  wine.  This  preparation 
will  be  much  improved  by  the  addition  of  a 
few  drops  of  the  essences  of  musk  and 
ambergris. 

To  Clean  Combs. — Tie  one  end  of  a  silk 
thread  to  the  handle  of  a  washstand.  Seat 
yourself  before  it  with  a  napkin  spread  oou 
your  lap,  and  holding  the  other  end  of  the 
thread  tightly  in  your  left  hand,  take  the 
comb  in  your  right  and  pass  it  hard  and 
carefully  along  the  silk,  which  should  be 


HELPS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


267 


made  to  go  in  between  the  teeth  of  the 
comb  separately>  so  as  to  remove  or  scrape 
out  all  the  impurities.  Then  rub  the  comb 
with  a  brush  or  a  soft  cloth ;  rinse  it  in  warm 
soapsuds  and  wipe  it  dry. 

The  Complexion. — A  daily  bath  is  an 
adjunct  to  the  beauty  of  the  skin,  and  so  is 
everything  that  conduces  to  health,  such  as 
early  hours,  avoidance  of  close,  crowded 
rooms,  a  daily  walk,  pure  air,  and  suitable 
diet.  Too  poor  and  too  rich  diet  injure  the 
skin  equally. 

Care  should  be  taken  not  to  tan  or  freckle 
the  skin.  A  black  veil  should  not  be  worn 
in  sunny  weather.  It  is  well  not  to  wash 
the  face  too  frequently ;  it  should  be  made 
clean  before  retiring  to  rest  at  night,  that 
nothing  may  obstruct  the  free  action  of  the 
perspiration,  and  that,  with  the  morning 
ablutions,  should  suffice.  Of  one  thing  be 
very  careful ;  never  wash  the  face  when  you 
are  heated,  or  soon  after  walking  or  dancing, 
especially  in  cold  water.  Drinking  cold 
Water,  also,  at  such  times,  is  greatly  injuri 
ous.  Doing  either  is  well  known  to  cause  a 
permanent  discoloration  of  a  frightful  de 
scription.  Tight  lacing  and  tight  boots  are 
also  sometimes  the  cause  of  a  red  nose  or  a 
skin  disease. 

Rose  water  is  harmless  to  the  skin,  and 
sulphur  is  frequently  beneficial.  A  wash  of 
rose  water  and  flowers  of  sulphur  may  be 
used  when  there  is  any  disfigurement  of  the 
skin,  such  as  we  have  just  indicated.  First 
wash  the  face  clean,  shake  the  bottle,  and 
bathe  the  face  at  night  for  ten  minutes.  Let 
it  dry  unwiped.  But  unless  there  is  any 
cause  do  not  use  any  preparation ;  let  well 
alone. 

It  is  pleasant  after  all  to  think  that  the 
finest  beautifiers  are  within  the  reach  of 
every  one,  and  are  such  simple  cosmetics  as 
cold  water,  fresh  air,  and  temperate  habits. 


In  proportion  as  we  have  endeavored  to 
prove  how  small  a  part  the  features  in  them 
selves  play  as  to  the  higher  purposes  of  a 
face — namely,  its  identity  and  moral  charac 
ter — we  have  increased  the  responsibility  of 
every  one  who  carries  a  face  as  to  the  impres 
sion  it  ought  to  create.  This  responsibility 
of  course,  extends  equally  to  man  as  to 
woman ;  but  a  larger  sphere  of  it  belongs  to 
the  latter.  With  her  is  associated  a  separate 
idea,  that  as  beauty  is  proper  to  her,  the 
loves  and  the  graces  are  felt  to  reside  natur 
ally  in  a  woman's  countenance,  but  to  be 
quite  out  of  place  in  a  man's.  His  face  is 
formed  to  be  clean,  and  may  be  allowed  to  be 
picturesque — but  it  is  a  woman's  place  to  be 
beautiful. 

Beauty  of  some  kind  is  so  much  the  attri 
bute  of  the  sex,  that  a  woman  can  hardly 
be  said  to  feel  herself  a  woman  who  has  not, 
at  one  time  of  her  life  at  all  events,  felt  her 
self  to  be  fair.  Beauty  confers  an  education 
of  its  own,  and  that  always  a  feminine  one. 
Most  celebrated  beauties  have  owed  their 
highest  charms  to  the  refining  education 
which  their  native  ones  have  given  them. 
It  was  the  wisdom  as  well  as  the  poetry  of 
the  age  of  chivalry  that  it  supposed  all 
women  to  be  beautiful,  and  treated  them  as 
such. 

A  woman  is  not  fully  furnished  for  her 
part  in  life  whose  heart  has  not  occasionally 
swelled  with  the  sense  of  possessing  some 
natural  abilities  in  the  great  art  of  pleasing, 
opening  to  her  knowledge  secrets  of  strength, 
wonderfully  intended  to  balance  her  muscu 
lar,  or — if  it  may  be — her  general  weakness. 
And  herein  we  see  how  truly  this  attribute 
belongs  to  woman  alone.  Man  does  not 
need  such  a  consciousness,  and  seldom  has  it 
without  rendering  himself  extremely  ridicu 
lous;  while  to  a  woman  it  is  one  of  the  chief 
weapons  in  her  armory, 


268 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


What  can  be  more  cruel  than  the  con 
tinual  forcing  upon  a  young  girl  the  wither 
ing  conviction  of  her  own  plainness  ?  If 
this  be  only  a  foolish  sham  to  counteract  the 
supposed  demoralizing  consciousness  of 
beauty,  the  world  will  soon  counteract  that ; 
Dut  if  the  victim  have  really  but  a  scanty 
supply  of  charms,  it  will,  in  addition  to  in 
calculable  anguish  of  mind,  only  diminish 
these  further  still.  To  such  a  system  alone 
can  we  ascribe  an  unhappy,  anomalous  style 
of  a  young  woman,  occasionally  met  with, 
who  seems  to  have  taken  on  herself  the  vows 
of  voluntary  ugliness,  who  neither  eats 
enough  to  keep  her  complexion  clear  nor 
smiles  enough  to  set  her  pleasing  muscles  in 
action — who  prides  herself  on  a  skinny  par 
simony  of  attire  which  she  calls  neatness — 
thinks  that  alone  respectable  which  is  most 
unbecoming — is  always  thin,  and  seldom 
well,  and  passes  through  the  society  of  the 
lovely,  the  graceful,  and  the  happy,  with  the 
vanity  that  apes  humility  on  her  poor  disap 
pointed  countenance,  as  if  to  say,  "  Stand 
back,  I  am  uncomelier  than  thou.  " 

The  Art  of  Beauty. 

Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall  says :  "  Beauty  of  the 
face  depends  more  upon  the  movement  of 
the  face  than  upon  the  form  of  the  features 
when  at  rest.  .  Thus  a  countenance  habitu 
ally  under  the  influence  of  amiable  feelings 
acquires  a  beauty  of  the  highest  order,  from 
the  frequency  with  which  such  feelings  are 
the  originating  causes  of  the  movement  or 
expressions  which  stamp  their  character  up 
on  it " 


The  following  passage,  by  Mrs.  Jamieson, 
we  cordially  recommend  to  our  lady  readers : 
— "  In  the  morning  use  pure  water  as  an  ar> 
lution  ;  after  which  they  must  abstain  from 
all  sudden  gusts  of  passion,  particularly 
envy,  as  that  gives  the  skin  a  sallow  pale 
ness.  It  may  seem  trifling  to  speak  of  tern 
perance,  yet  this  must  be  attended  to  both 
in  eating  and  drinking,  it  they  would  avoid 
pimples.  Instead  of  rouge,  let  them  use 
moderate  exercise,  which  will  raise  a  natural 
bloom  in  their  cheeks,  inimitable  by  art. 
Ingenuous  candor,  and  unaffected  good 
humor,  will  give  an  openness  to  their  coun 
tenance  that  will  make  them  universally 
agreeable.  A  desire  of  pleasing  will  add 
fire  to  their  eyes,  and  breathing  the  air  of 
sunrise  will  give  their  lips  a  vermilion  hue. 
That  amiable  vivacity  which  they  now  poss 
ess  may  be  highly  heightened  and  preserved, 
it  they  would  avoid  late  hours  and  card-play 
ing,  as  well  as  novel-reading  by  candle-light, 
but  not  otherwise  ;  for  the  first  gives  the  face 
a  drowsy,  disagreeable  aspect ;  the  second  is 
the  mother  of  wrinkles  ;  and  the  third  is  a 
fruitful  source  of  weak  eyes  and  a  sallow 
complexion. 

"  A  nice  hand  is  a  very  desirable  orna 
ment  ;  and  a  hand  can  never  be  perfectunless 
it  be  kept  clean.  Nor  is  this  all,  for  if  a 
young  lady  would  excel  her  companions  in 
this  respect,  she  must  keep  her  hands  in  con 
stant  motion,  which  will  occasion  the  blood 
to  circulate  freely,  and  have  a  wonderful 
effect.  The  motion  recommended  is  work 
ing  at  her  needle,  making  herself  useful" 


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5 


CHAPTER  XX. 

House-Building,  or  How  to  Obtain  a  Home. 


€HE  following  artistic  house  designs,  with  floor  plans,  are  furnished  by  the  National 
Architects'  Union  of  Philadelphia.     The  designs  and  plans  of  the  National  Architects' 
Union  are  considered  the  best,  and  while  the  publishers  of  this  work  are  gratified  at 
being  able  to  reproduce  a  number,  they  take  this  opportunity  of  expressing  their 
grateful  acknowledgements  for  the  privilege  of  making  use  of  them. 


PERSPECTIVE  VIEW  OF  DESIGN    NO.  1.     ESTIMATED  COST  $2250,     BRICK- FRAME,  $1750. 


269 


2/0 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


This  beautiful  cottage  will  never  fail  to 
please  the  owner's  eye,  and,  better  still  4nake 
his  wife  happy  and  contented.  It  will  be 
found  cool  and  airy  in  summer,  and  easily 
kept  warm  in  winter. 

In  many  sections  of  the  country  this  house 
2an  be  built  for  less  than  its  estimated  cost, 
if  our  plans  are  followed. 

First  Story. 

Entering  the  front  door,  you  come  into  a 
large  roomy  vestibule,  from  which  you  go 
either  to  parlor  or  sitting-room,  18  x  17.6 
feet,  with  open  fireplace,  or  to  a  light  and 
cheerful  dining-room  17.6  x  14  feet.  Back 
of  this  is  a  comfortable  and  convenient 
kitchen  14  x  n  feet,  well  supplied  with 
closets,  and  opening  into  a  rear  stoop  with 
water-closet. 


First  Floor.— Design  No.  1. 

High  houses  and  ceilings  are  much  cheaper 
for  their  room,  and  every  way  better  than 
low.  Foundation  and  roof,  the  two  most 
costly  parts  of  all  houses,  are  the  same  in 
both  for  their  size;  yet  it  takes  double  of 
both  for  a  given  amount  of  room  in  a  one 
story  as  compared  with  a  two  and  three — no 
trifling  difference. 


An  east  or  west  entrance  will  enable  you 
to  put  your  parlor  on  the  north  and  sitting- 
room  on  the  south  side,  while  a  northern 
entrance  naturally  gives  the  sun  to  the  kit 
chen,  and  a  southern  to  your  parlor.  These 
facts  are  worth  considering  in  laying  out  the 
house  you  are  to  live  in  always. 

The  old-fashioned  method  of  building  a 
house  was  to  pay  little  or  no  attention  to  sun 
exposure.  The  fact  is,  sunshine  has  so  much 
to  do  with  both  health  and  spirits  that  in 
your  living  rooms  you  cannot  afford  to  be 
without  it.  "  Let  there  be  light "  in  your 
home ;  let  the  sunbeams  have  a  chance  to 
make  you  healthy  and  happy.  This  is  vastly 
cheaper  than  doctors'  bills. 

Second  Story, 

Has  three  light,  roomy,  cool  bed-rooms, 
and,  best  of  all,  around  each  room  and  under 
the  roof  are  ample  closets  and  store  room. 

MATERiALa — Foundation,  rough  stone 
work ;  first  story,  in  brick  work ;  second 
story,  frame,  painted  on  sheathing,  and  be 
tween  same  clapboarded ;  roof  shingled  J 
basement  under  main  walls. 


< I 

Second  Floor.— Design  No.  1. 


HOUSE-BUILDING,  OR  HOW  TO  OBTAIN  A  HOME. 


271 


I 


PERSPECTIVE  VIEW  OF  DESIGN  No.  2, 
ESTIMATED  COST,  $1000. 

First  Story. 

A  large  and  pretty  vestibule  affords 
entrance  from  the  porch  to  the  more 
private  house-hall,  and  the  parlor 
(10  x  14),  and  sitting-room  (14  x  8.6), 
two  pleasing,  light  and  comfortable 
rooms,  opening  into  each  other,  and 
allowing  of  the  sitting-room  being  used 
as  a  bed-chamber  if  desired.  Back  of 
these  is  a  very  large  diaing-room  (10  x 
21 ),  which  has  large  closets  and  open 
fire-place.  The  kitchen  (10  x  14.6)  is  a 
good-sized  and  well-lighted  room,  with 

large  pantry  attached. 

a 

Second  Story. 

Contains  three  bed-chambers  (10  x  14, 
10  x  14,  8  x  9),  well  lighted,  and  each 
opening  into  the  hall.  Good  closets  in 
each.  There  is  a  step-ladder  to  an  attic- 
loft. 

MATERIALS. — Foundation,  brick  or 
stone ;  basement  under  main  walls ; 
First  Story  frame  sheathed  and  clap- 
boarded  ;  shingled  roof  and  gables. 


First  Floor. —Design  No.  3. 


.Second  Floor.— Design  No.  2. 


373 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  UFB. 


PERSPECTIVE  VIEW  OF  DESIGN    NO.   3.      ESI, MATED   COST,    $2400. 


This  design  is  one  which  strikes  all  who 
see  it  as  combining  beauty  and  comfort 
in  an  unusual  degree.  When  we  consider 
the  low  cost  at  which  it  can  be  built,  we  feel 
that  we  may  say  that  it  is  unexcelled  in  its 
way.  The  graceful  porches,  the  shape  of 
the  bow-window  at  the  end,  and  the  effect 
produced  by  the  projection  of  the  second 
story  in  front,  make  a  combination  restful  to 
the  eye.  The  hall  of  this  beautiful  residence 
is  as  large  as  a  room  in  itself,  allowing  of  its 
teing  so  used,  and  adding  much  to  the 
beauvy  of  the  arrangement. 

All  the  designs  furnished  in  this  chapter 
have  great  advantages  by  reason  of  their 
simplicity  and  cheapness.  A  vast  amount 
of  money  can  be  spent  in  the  construction  of 
a  dwelling,  and  on  account  of  ignorance  srA 
inexperience  results  far  more  unsatisfactory 
may  follow  than  might  be  obtaine^by^a 


smaller  outlay  of  money,  provided  common 
sense  accompanies  your  building  operations. 

Most  persons  are  over  ambitious  when 
they  build  a  house.  Their  ideas  are  larger 
than  their  purses.  They  want  an  edifice  that 
shall  throw  all  others  in  the  neighborhood 
"  into  the  shade."  Or  they  want  some  won 
derful  design  for  their  dwelling  different 
from  anything  ever  thought  of  before  "in 
heaven  above  or  in  the  earth  beneath.'* 
Thus  they  often  perpetrate  a  dismal  failure. 

And  where  men  have  plenty  of  money  to 
build  with,  it  is  often  painful  to  witness  theii 
agony  to  obtain  a  grand  edifice,  squandering 
thousands  of  dollars  on  their  fine  housr  , 
when  a  more  judicious  expenditure  would  K 
much  more  to  their  credit  and  sense.  Tht 
spirit  of  the  times  might  be  expressed  by 
saying — get  rich,  put  up  a  palace,  and  go 
into  bankruptcy. 


HOUSE-BUILDING,  OR  HOW  TO  OBTAIN  A  HOME. 


First  Story. 

From  the  hall,  mentioned  above,  you 
enter  on  the  right  the  parlor  (13  x  14), 
which  has  three  windows  and  a  fireplace, 
the  latter  set  across  one  corner  of  the  room, 
a  style  of  architecture  which  admits  of  a 
great  improvement  in  the  furnishing  of 
the  room.  One  of  these  corner  fireplaces, 
built  over  with  shelves  for  bric-a-brac,  is  a 
;<  thing  of  beauty."  Opposite  the  hall  en 
trance  is  the  door  to  the  library  or  sitting- 
room  (15x17),  with  open  fireplace  and 
four  windows,  a  spacious,  well-lighted 
room.  The  dining-room  (12x1  5),  entered 
in  the  same  way,  is  comfortable  and 
pleasant,  and  also  has  the  cheery,  open 
fireplace.  The  kitchen  (14x18),  is  a  well- 
lighted  pleasant  room  with  large  pantry. 
There  is  also  a  preserve  closet  and  a 
china  closet. 


,  O    First  Floor.— Design  No.  3. 


Se«ond  Floor.— Design  No.  3. 

Second  Story. 

Contains  four  nice,  airy,  comfortable 
chambers  (12.6x14,  12.6x14,  12x15, 
1 2.6  xi 8),  each  with  a  closet  large 
enough  to  delight  the  housekeeper's 
heart,  and  two  of  them  having  the  "  cosy 
corner"  formed  by  half  of  the  bow.  A 
bath  and  toilet-room  opens  from  the 
hall.  There  is  an  attic  above  for  the 
storage  of  goods. 

MATERIALS. — Foundation,  stone  or 
brick  piers;  First  Story  sheathed  and 
clapboarded;  Second  Story  shingled1 
roof  shingled.  Frame  construction. 

Special  note  should  be  taken  of  the 
wide,  comfortable  porch  around  two 
sides  and  part  of  the  third  side  of  the 
house,  adding  much  to  its  general  ap 
pearance.  This  house  has  given  univei 
sal  satisfaction  wherever  built. 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


HOUSE-BUILDING,  OR  HOW  TO  OBTAIN  A  HOME. 


275 


Ceilings,  9  feet;  sef  oi.  brick  piers  7  feet 
aigh;  no  cellar;  na  attic;  width,  34  feet; 
^lepth,  62  feet;  foundation,  brick;  a  5000 
gallon  tank  and  a  cold  storage-room,  with 
mine-inch  walls  lined  with  sawdust;  first 
story  clapboarded;  second  story  shingled; 
?oof  shingled;  latticed  base. 


Ground  Floor.— Design  No*  4. 

No  house  interior  is  more  pleasant  and 
convenient  than  one  provided  with  one  or 
more  bay  windows.  Often  it  happens  that 
rooms  appear  to  be  small  and  contracted; 
you  have  a  singular  impression  of  being  chut 
up  in  a  prisoner's  cell.  You  should  not  turn 
your  dwelling  into  a  jail.  Now,  for  such 
rooms  a  bay  window  is  a  complete  remedy, 


and  no  one  could  understand  what  a  differ 
ence  such  a  window  makes  ex«  trpt  by  actual 
experiment  It  is  almost  like  adding  another 
room  to  the  house. 

Ordinarily,  where  there  is  a  bay  window 
on  the  first  story,  the  proportion  of  the  house 
is  better  preserved,  and  is  made  more  sym 
metrical  by  extending  the  projection  to  the 
story  above.  This  is  something  to  be. con 
sidered,  because  you  want  your  house  to  look 
well,  so  that  at  first  glance  a  stranger  would 
exclaim,  "  What  a  pretty  house!"  Consid 
ering  also  the  additional  room  obtained  by 
the  bay  window,  and  the  greater  convenience 
afforded  in  looking  out  upon  surroundings, 
you  are  fortunate  if  your  plan  and  your 
means  admit  of  this  improvement. 


Second  Floor.— Design  No.  4* 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


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HOUSE-BUILDING,  OR  HOW  TO  BUILD  A  HOUSE. 


277 


We  illustrate  here  a  design,  which  is  one 
of  the  most  picturesque  we  offer.  It  has  a 
round  porch  and  a  balcony  on  second  floor.  A 
wide  hall  goes  into  the  parlor  on  one  side 
and  the  library  on  the  other.  In  the  parlor 
is  a  pretty  corner  with  a  seat  around  it  and 
there  can  be  an  open  fire  place.  The  library 
is  a  room  14  x  14  feet  whose  cut-off  corner 
gives  it  also  an  odd  appearance.  A  wide 
arch  divides  it  from  the  sitting-room.  Any 
family  desiring  to  have  bedrooms  on  the 
first  floor,  could  use  either  or  both  of  these 
for  this  purpose,  putting  a  door  between. 


First  Floor.— Design  No.  5. 

The  dining  room  is  a  very  agreeable  room 
and  opens  'out  on  a  little  back  porch  from 
which  access  is  gained  to  the  bath  room. 
The  latter  room  can  be  omitted  or  altered  to 
a  servant's  bedroom  anywhere  it  may  be 
desired.  The  kitchen  communicates  with 
the  dining  room  by  a  butler's  pantry,  and 
has  an  additional  closet.  The  chimney  in 
library  and  sitting  room  can  be  omitted  if 
preferred  for  a  summer  house.  On  the  sec 
ond  floor  there  are  three  large  bedrooms  and 
a  store  or  trunk  room.  There  is  an  entrance 
to  the  balcony  from  the  hall.  There  is  air 
space  above  these  rooms.  As  will  be  seen, 
this  house  is  entirely  suitable  for  a  perma 
nent  residence.  It  can  be  sided  on  the  sec 
ond  story  in  parts  of  the  country  where 


shingles  are  high  at  a  less  expense  than 
shingling,  but,  of  course,  will  not  be  quite 
so  effective.  The  cosy  corner  is  repeated  in 
the  front  bedroom,  and  there  is  another, 
formed  by  the  dormer  in  the  side  bedroom. 
Altogether,  this  is  a  house  which  inside  and 
out  is  pretty,  unusual  and  convenient. 


Second  Floor.— Design  No.  5. 

In  building  a  house  you  could  be  pardoned 
for  considering  each  and  every  feature  of  the 
whole  structure  more  important  than  any 
others.  If  you  were  asked  what  particular 
thing  should  have  most  attention,  you  might 
reasonably  answer  that  every  thing  should 
have  most  attention.  Certainly  no  part  of 
the  plan,  the  contract  with  the  builder,  the 
materials,  the  construction  and  finishing, 
should  be  neglected.  All  the  details  must 
be  attended  to  with  scrupulous  care.  Have 
every  thing  right  as  you  go  along. 

Especially  must  attention  be  given  to  the 
foundation,  the  walls,  the  cellar,  the  eleva 
tion  of  the  walls  above  the  surface  of  the 
ground.  A  good,  dry,  roomy  cellar  is  as 
much  a  requisite  as  a  pleasant  parlor  or  a 
good  sitting-room.  If  your  house  is  defective 
at  the  base,  it  will  be  defective  all  the  way 
up.  A  cellar  that  gets  damp  in  every  rain 
storm  will  give  neuralgia  to  the  whole  family. 
Persons  often  take  cold,  have  all  sorts  of 
aches,  are  cross  and  ugly  as  bears,  and  "  don't 
see  how  they  ever  took  cold,"  for  they  have 
been  "so  careful,"  when  the  truth  is,  the 
"cold"  is  in  the  house. 


278 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


PERSPECTIVE  VIEW  OF  DESIGN    NO.  6.      ESTIMATED  COST  $1800. 


This  roomy  and  picturesque  design  we  are 
sure  will  be  considered  attractive  by  all  our 
readers,  and  is  specially  suited  to  those  who 
are  intending  to  build  a  summer  home  at 
the  seaside,  as  well  as  for  an  all-the-year- 
round  residence  anywhere.  Beside  the  two 
porches  on  the  first  floor,  one  extending  all 
the  way  across  the  parlor  front,  you  should 
note  the  pretty  balcony  porches  on  the 
second  floor,  which  not  only  add  to  the  pic 
turesque  effect,  but  very  much  to  the  comfort 
and  beauty  of  the  rooms  which  open  into 
them.  The  value  of  an  architect's  skill  is 
shown  in  this  design  as  a  tasteful  and  pleas 
ing  appearance,  where  a  large  amount  of 
comfort  is  gained  in  an  inexpensive  way. 

Country  Annoyances. 

The  utter  disregard  for  the  wants  of  others 
causes  people  generally  to  become  suspicious 
of  their  neighbors.  It  is  true  that  this  sus 
picion  is  gradually  becoming  lessened.  The 
time  was  when  the  inhabitants  built  a  castle 


as  nearly  as  possible  impregnable;  around 
that  was  built  a  high  enclosure,  and  still  out 
side  of  that  was  a  canal  with  a  drawbridge. 
Gradually  the  fact  has  dawned  that  we  need 
not  be  thus  suspicious.  We  need  not  build 
a  house  of  stone,  we  need  not  construct  a 
canal,  but  we  still  adhere  to  the  high  wall  01 
fence,  as  we  are  oftentimes  compelled  to  be* 
cause  of  the  disposition  of  the  neighbor  to 
trample  upon  our  rights  by  allowing  his 
animals  to  destroy  our  property. 

The  reader  has  doubtless  seen  a  town  in 
which  the  people  allowed  their  domestic 
animals  to  run  at  large,  the  hogs  to  root  the 
turf  to  pieces  by  the  roadside,  the  cattle  to 
destroy  sidewalks,  to  break  through  fences 
and  to  tear  down  trees.  This  want  of 
courtesy  is  not  uncommon.  And  it  makes 
a  wide  difference  whose  ox  is  gored.  If 
your  animals  do  the  mischief,  you  soon  hear 
from  it ;  if  you  are  the  sufferer,  it  is  quite 
another  thing* 


;,uto 


HOUSE-BUILDING,  OR  HOW  TO  OBTAIN  A  HOME. 
First  Story. 

The  entrance  from,  the  side  porch  is  made 
quare  hall,  intended  to  be  used  as  a 


279 


First  Floor.— Design  No.  6. 

room,  and  which  has  an  open  fireplace ;  a 
perfect  gem  of  an  apartment.  The  spacious 
and  pleasant  parlor  (n  x  25),  also  with  open 
fireplace,  is  at  the  left  of  the  hall,  and  opens 
into  the  dining-room  (n  x  15),  which  has  a 
pleasant  bay-window  and  open  fireplace ;  this 
is  a  beautiful  room.  To  the  right  of  the 
hall  is  a  passage  leading  to  a  cosy  library  or 
sitting-room  (n  x  12),  which  has  a  large 
closet.  The  kitchen,  at  the  farthest  end  of 
the  passage,  is  a  comfortable  room  9  x  14, 
well  lighted  and  with  a  large  pantry.  It 
also  communicates  with  the  dining-room  by 
a  passage-way  with  closets  at  the  side.  At 
the  end  of  the  passage  which  leads  to  the 
kitchen  is  a  room  8x12,  which  can  be  itsed 
as  servant's  bed-room,  office,  or  sewing-room. 
It  has  a  large  closet 


You  will  see  that  this  house  is  provided 
with  a  garret,  as  all  houses  should  be.  Fre 
quently  the  garret  is  as  useful  as  any  other 
room  from  top  to  bottom.  If  not  turned 
into  a  dormitory,  it  is  a  most  convenient 
store-room.  It  is  also  better  for  health  to 
have  a  room  between  the  roof  and  your 
sleeping  apartments. 

Second  Story. 

Contains  one  very  large  chamber  (ro  x  21), 
with  open  fireplace,  two  closets  and  a  balcony 


Second  Floor. — Design  No.  6. 

porch.  Smaller  rooms  u  x  12,  n  x  14,  and 
8  x  12,  the  last  also  with  balcony  porch, 
have  large  closets.  There  is  a  private  stair 
case.  Also  a  storage  loft. 

MATERIALS. — Foundation,  stone  or  brick; 
basement  under  main  walls.  First  Story 
sheathed  and  clapboarded;  Second  Story 
sheathed  and  shingled.  Gables  and  roof 
shingled; 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


HOUSE-BUILDING,  OR  HOW  TO  OBTAIN  A  HOME. 


281 


This  is  a  most  romantic  and  picturesque 
house ;  its  great  charm  lies  in  its  simplicity 
and  beauty  of  outline.     The  floor  arrange 
ment  is  also  unique.     There  is  a  wide  porch 
at  the  side  which  is  extended  in  a  half  circle 
at  the  end.      This  end  is  elevated  above  the 
Dther  porch  and  is  extended  for  a  dining 
porch.     The  raised  floor  enables  the  sitter  to 
look  over  the  view,  while  the  shingled  wall 
around   the  porch    makes    it    private  and  > 
secure.     The  living  room,  of  good  size,  has  j 
a  latticed  stairway  at  the  side.     The  parlor  j 
is  entered  through  an  arch  with  portieres,  j 
and  from  it  a  bedroom  opens.     The  kitchep.  ; 
Communicates  with  the  living  room  through 
a  butler's  pantry  and  has  another  storage 
pantry  beside. 

On  the  second  floor  are  five  bedrooms,  all 
of  good  size,  which  are  cut  to  4  ft.  6  in.  at 
the  sides  in  the  end  rooms,  but  have  dormers 
in  these  rooms  as  shown. 

This  is  a  delightful  house  and  is  admired 
by  all  who  see  it.  Interior  decoration  may 
carry  out  the  general  scheme  and  make  a 
most  beautiful  summer  home.  Tlie  large 
surface  of  the  dwelling  should  not  be  object 
ed  to  by  those  who  are  fond  of  fresh^air. 

Having  your  house,  you  should  know  how 
to  live  in  it  Not  only  make  your  dwelling 
an  acquisition  to  the  neighborhood,  but  make 
yourself  and  family  a  desirable  part  of  the 
community. 

Good  Neighbors. 

The  individual  who  will  conduct  a  house 
or  an  establishment  that  is  unpleasant,  in 
jurious  to  health,  or  detrimental  to  the  com 
munity,  evinces  a  disregard  for  the  courtesy 
that  is  due  to  his  neighbors. 

The  parents  who  allow  children  to  annoy 
their  neighbors,  are  always  a  most  undesir 
able  people  to  have  in  the  vicinity. 

The  people  of  a  community  who  will 
deliberately  turn  horses,  cattle  and  hogs  into 


the  street,  entirely  disregarding  the  fact  that 
the  animals  are  liable  to  do  much  damage  to 
others,  demonstrate  a  lack  of  regard  for  neigh 
bors  which  is  inexcusable,  and  can  only  be 
explained  on  tlie  ground  that  the  habit  is  so 
common  that  they  do  not  realize  the  injury 
they  are  doing. 

The  fact  that  we  accosted  Mr.  Smith 
politely,  p,nd  said  pleasant  things  in  his 
presence,  was  good  so  far  as  it  went,  but  the 
further  fact  that  we  turned  our  cattle  into 
the  street,  well  knowing  they  were  liable  tc 
trample  Mr.  Smith's  sidewalk  to  pieces,  and 
break  down  his  treesv  demonstrates  that, 
while  we  are  very  agreeable  to  his  face,  we 
care  but  little  what  we  may  do  behind  his 
back. 


First  and  Second  Floors. — Design  No.  7. 

The  code  of  etiquette  should  not  aloutr 
apply  among  individuals  when  directly  asso* 
ciated  together.  It  should  extend  further. 
It  should  go  out  and  permeate  a  neighbor 
hood.  It  should  diffuse  itself  throughout  & 
town.  It  should  bind  together  the  people 
of  a  State — of  a  nation.  It  should  be  a  rule 
of  action  among  all  nations.  Already  the  evi 
dence  of  courtesy  among  nations  begins  to 
manifest  itself.  The  International  Congwss 
is  based  upon  this  principle.  The  idea  of 


282 


COURTSHIP,  MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 


friendly  association  of  the  representatives  of 
nations  for  mutual  adjustment  of  differences, 
is  the  beginning  of  a  recognition  of  the 
rights  of  each  other.  When  we  can  rise 
superior  to  selfishness,  when  we  are  willing 
to  consider  the  rights  and  the  requirements 
of  others,  when  we  are  governed  by  the  gen 
erous  spirit  of  doing  unto  others  as  we  would 
they  should  do  unto  us,  then  we  are  directed 
by  a  power  that  will  make  an  entire  people 
is  a  whole,  what  the  laws  of  etiquette  deter- 
iiine  they  shall  be  individually,  in  their  in 
tercourse  with  each  other. 

Hints  to  Housekeepers. 

Never  suffer  your  rooms  to  be  littered,  but 
keep  your  tables  and  chairs  in  their  proper 
places. 

Rub  your  own  tables,  if  you  wish  to  be 
warm  all  day. 

Be  regular  in  your  accounts;  it  will  secure 
your  husband's  esteem. 

If  you  have  daughters,  teach  them  all 
needlework,  and  to  keep  the  family  accounts. 

Love  your  own  house  better  than  your 
neighbor's. 

Keep  no  servants  that  have  hangers-on. 
•Ceep  no  more  servants  than  you  can  employ. 

Dress  modestly,  but  not  fine,  unless  the 
world  knows  you  can  afford  it. 

Insure  your  life,  and  you  will  sleep  the 
better  for  it 

Never  be  tempted  to  buy  what  you  do  not 
want. 

Do  not  put  too  much  money  in  your 
children's  pockets  on  going  to  school ;  it  is 
sowing  the  seeds  of  prodigality. 

Look  out  for  the  deserving  poor  of  your 
own  neighborhood,  and  give  them  what  you 
can  spare. 

If  you  have  a  family,  and  are  not  very 
affluent,  remember  that  a  »in  a  day  is  a  groat 
a  year. 


A  gossip  has  no  home  and  very  fev 
friends. 

If  you  are  rich,  be  liberal  in  your  ex 
penses. 

Never  write  a  letter  when  in  a  passion. 

Seldom  venture  on  giving  advice  withou* 
being  asked. 

In  the  morning  think  on  what  you  are  tc 
do  in  the  day ;  and,  at  night,  think  on  what 
you  have  done. 

If  you  are  ever  so  wise,  there  are  many 
things  on  which  you  are  ignorant 

Money  got  by  industry  is  Heaven's  gift. 

Do  not  leave  that  to  be  done  to-morrow 
that  conveniently  may  be  done  to-day. 

Good  manners  are  best  learned  by  keeping 
good  company. 

Set  your  watch,  every  morning,  by  a 
good  clock,  and  you  will  find  a  bad  watch 
to  go  nearly  as  well  as  a  good  one. 

Good  breeding  requires  that  you  be  punc 
tual  to  your  engagements. 

Never  borrow  of  neighbors  if  it  be  possible 
to  avoid  it.  It  is  better  to  buy  what  you 
need  than  to  frequently  borrow.  There  are 
a  few  things  which  a  neighbor  should  never 
be  expected  to  lend.  Among  these  are  fine- 
edged  tools,  delicate  machinery,  and  any 
article  liable  to  easily  get  out  of  order.  The 
less  business  relations  among  neighbors,  the 
better. 

Never  fail  to  return,  with  thanks,  any 
article  borrowed,  as  soon  as  you  have  finished 
using  it,  and  see  that  it  is  in  as  good  or  bettel 
condition  than  when  you  received  it 

Articles  of  provisions  which  may  be 
borrowed  should  be  very  promptly  returned 
in  larger  quantity  to  pay  interest,  and  better 
in  quality  if  possible.  In  no  way  can  a 
neighbor  lose  character  more  effectually  in 
business  dealing  than  by  the  petty  meanness 
of  borrowing  and  failing  to  pay,  or  by  pay* 
ing  with  a  poorer  quality  and  less  amount, 


BOOK  III. 


CHAPTER  XXL 


Healtny  Dwellings. 


^  /ELUNG-HOUSES  and  apartments 
should  be  ensured  sufficient  light 
and  air  and  a  moderate  temperature. 
They  should  be  dry,  not  damp.  Pure,  fresh 
air  is  of  paramount  importance  in  relation 
to  the  preservation  of  life  and  health,  for 
only  in  a  pure  atmosphere  can  our  blood  be 
purified  by  respiration.  About  half  a  pint 
of  air  is  inhaled  with  each  respiration  and 
as  much  exhaled.  It  is  a  sad  fact  that  the 
dread  of  fresh  air,  under  the  name  of  "a 
cold  draft,"  is  so  general,  and  especially  that 
It  is  encouraged  by  some  physicians.  Cold 
drafts  can  be  harmful  only  to  overheated  and 
perspiring  persons.  The  statement,  "I  have 
taught  a  cold,"  very  frequently  serves  to  dis 
guise  a  variety  of  disease-producing  causes 
which  may  justly  be  laid  at  the  door  of  the 
speaker  himself. 

Compliance  with  nature's  demands  always 
produces  a  feeling  of  agreeable  relief.  What 
a  similar  sensation  accompanies  the  exhala 
tion  of  noxious  matters  from  the  lungs  and 
gkin  we  can  appreciate  only  when  these  pro 
cesses  are  interfered  with.  We  should  as 
Kttle  think  of  consuming  again  the  exhala 
tions  of  our  skin  and  lungs  as  we  would  our 


own  excretions.  It  would  be  equally  absurd 
In  the  year  1848,  during  a  severe  storm, 
the  captain  of  the  steamer  "Londonderry" 
confined  his  two  hundred  passengers  in  a 
hold  which  scarcely  afforded  them  standing' 
room,  and  sealed  the  hatches.  Forced  to 
breathe  again  and  again  the  same  air,  the 
miserable  inmates  soon  found  their  situation 
intolerable,  but  contrived  to  force  an  exit 
only  after  seventy-two  of  their  number  had 
expired  from  suffocation. 

Nearly  a  century  earlier  a  graphic  descrip 
tion  was  given  of  the  intense  suffering  of  the 
one  hundred  and  forty-six  British  soldiers 
confined  in  the  Black  Hole  of  Calcutta — 
their  profuse  perspiration,  their  raging  thirst, 
their  labored  breathing,  their  rapid  heart- 
action,  their  starting  eyes,  their  frenzied 
struggles  to  reach  the  two  small  windows, 
their  agonizing  cries  for  water  and  for  air, 
the'r  delirium,  exhaustion,  death.  After  ten 
hours  of  such  scenes  twenty-three  only  of 
the  number  were  taken  forth  alive.  These 
casualties  were  consequent  simply  upon  the 
insufficiency  of  oxygen  and  the  inability  01 
an  already  saturated  atmosphere  to  ab?crt 
the  exhalations  of  so  many  bodies. 


284 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


Necessity  of  Ventilation. 

Frequent  change  of  air  by  efficient  ven 
tilation  is  not  sufficiently  practiced  either  on 
behalf  of  the  sick  or  of  the  well,  ^though 
abundance  of  fresh  air  is  well  known  to 
lavor  health,  while  its  absence  both  causes 
ind  aggravates  disease.  In.  the  L,eopoldstadt 
prison  of  Vienna,  a  building  very  badly  ven 
tilated,  the  death-rate  during  a  certain  period 
was  eighty-six  per  thousand,  the  large- 
number  by  far  from  lung  diseases ;  in  the 
well-ventilated  House  of  Correction  in  the 
same  city  the  death-rate  was  only  fourteen 
per  thousand,  and  little  more  than  half  of 
these  from  lung  complaints. 

The  oxygen  of  the  atmosphere  is  the  most 
potent  disinfectant  of  our  bodies.  In  farm 
houses  we  often  see  bedrooms  made  use  of 
as  wardrobes  as  well  as  for  sleeping  purposes, 
dresses  and  clothing  being  suspended  from 
the  walls  and  ceiling.  No  more  favorable 
means  than  this  can  be  imagined  for  the 
collection  and  distribution  of  disease-germs ; 
and  it  is  a  fact  that  we  often  see  epidemics 
of  diphtheria,  typhoid  fever,  and  other  in 
fectious  diseases,  spread  with  remarkable  ra 
pidity  arrong  a  farming  population. 

•    Epidemic  in  Brooklyn. 

The  great  value  of  ventilation  is  forcibly 
illustrated  by  an  occurrence  observed  in 
Brooklyn  in  the  year  1885.  During  that 
year  an  epidemic  of  typhoid  fever,  limited 
in  area  to  but  a  few  blocks,  broke  out  in  the 
southern  part  of  the  city.  Many  died  of  it, 
but  only  those  were  fatally  attacked  who 
had  been  in  the  country  during  the  preceding 
summer  months.  In  the  adjoining  blocks, 
inhabited  by  a  poorer  class  of  people,  who 
had  remained  in  the  city,  no  fatal  cases  oc 
curred. 

\  The  reason  for  this  partiality  of  the  fever 
is  easily  learned.  These  well-to-do  people, 
before  leaving  town,  had  closed  up  their 


houses  almost  hermetically.  The  gases 
which  emanated  from  the  sewer-pipes  had 
become  fixed,  so  to  speak,  during  their  ab 
sence,  having  no  channel  of  escape,  and  even 
after  the  return  of  the  occupants  ventilation 
had  not  been  well  looked  after.  In  these 
houses,  consequently,  the  germs  of  disease 
had  found  a  fertile  soil  for  their  development, 
attacking  their  victims  with  such  vigor  as  to 
overwhelm  them.  The  neighboring  poor, 
however,  had  not  been  away,  and  their 
rooms  had  been  constantly  ventilated,  so  that 
disease  germs  found  it  hard  to  thrive  there. 
Ventilation  must  be  thorough  and  fre 
quent.  It  does  not  suffice  to  open  the  win 
dows  a  little  at  the  top  and  a  little  at  the, 
bottom,  nor  even  to  open  but  one  of  them 
fully.  All  in  the  room  should  be  thrown 
wide  open  above  and  below,  so  that  not  only 
fresh  air  can  come  in,  but  the  foul  and  viti 
ated  air  of  the  interior  can  escape.  Th^ 
badly  fitting  doors  and  windows  of  their 
dwellings  afford  poor  people  better  ventila 
tion,  even  in  winter,  than  they  are  otherwise 
likely  to  enjoy,  not  a  bad  thing,  upon  the 
whole,  if  only  the  house  is  not  situated  upon 
ground  too  low  and  damp. 

How  to  Ventilate  a  House. 

It  is  wise  to  pursue  two  methods  of  venti 
lation  conjointly.  In  the  first  place,  as  many 
windows  and  doors  as  possible  should  be 
thrown  widely  open  for  about  an  hour  each 
evening  before  retiring,  and  again  in  the 
morning  after  the  gentlemen  have  gone  to 
business  and  the  children  to  school.  The 
draft  thus  created  may  bring  in  some  dust  to 
settle  on  the  fine  furniture,  but  this  is  easily 
removed ;  and  the  fact  remains  that  the  foul 
air  of  the  room  has  been  dispelled,  and  with 
it  all  disease  germs  adhering  to  walls  and 
hangings.  Just  as  violent  atmospheric  dis- 
turbances  are  necessary,  particularly  to  large 
cities,  in  order  to  dissipate  the  thick  vapors 


HEALTHY  DWELLINGS 


CHILDREN  IN  PERFECT  HEALTH. 


constantly  hovering  about,  so  also  must  our     followed,  in  the  second  place,  by  constantly 
houses  be  subjected  to  like  violent  measures     admitting  fresh  air  through  windows  kept 


of  ventilation. 

A  quieter  method  of  ventilation  is  to  be 


always  a  little  open  at  top  and  bottom.     This 
need  not  create  any  draft,  but  will  simply 


286 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  JTRONG. 


promote  continual  interchange  between  the 
inner  and  the  outer  air.  The  same  end  may 
be  attained  by  closing  the  shutters  on  fully 
opened  windows.  Noxious  gases  and  vapors, 
dust  and  smoke,  must,  of  course  be  guarded 
against. 

-     Fumigation  with  aromatic  compounds  is 
'of  little   value.       It    conceals    disagreeable 
odors,  but  cannot  change  bad  air  for  good- 
Deadly  Water. 

The  air  and  water  which  permeate  the  soil 
demand  our  careful  consideration.  They  are 
supposed  to  exercise  a  strong  influence  upon 
epidemics  of  infectious  diseases,  like  cholera 
and  typhoid  fever.  In  building  a  house, 
therefore,  the  condition  of  neighboring  sewer 
age  should  be  closely  regarded.  No  surface 
water  should  be  allowed  to  collect  about  the 
foundations.  All  cesspools  should  be  situated 
as  far  from  the  house  as  possible,  care  being 
taken  to  place  them  on  a  lower  level  than 
the  house;  otherwise  the  soil  surrounding 
the  house  will  become  saturated  with  effete 
matters  and  will  afford  a  favorable  nidus  for 
the  development  of  disease-germs.  Wells 
must  be  very  far  removed  from  cesspools. 

Pettenkofer  has  shown  that  the  daily  ex 
cretions  of  an  adult  amount  to  about  three 
pounds  of  solid  and  liquid  matter.  If  no 
complete  system  of  sewerage  exists  in  a 
large  city,  his  experience  has  taught  him 
that  hardly  one-tenth  of  these  effete  products 
is  actually  removed.  The  other  nine-tenths 
decompose  and  filter  into  the  ground,  the 
more  so,  the  lower  and  damper  the  locality. 
This  has  been  illustrated  numberless  times 
by  the  circumstances  attending  the  spread  of 
epidemics  of  cholera  and  other  infectious 
diseases.  On  high,  dry,  and  rocky  ground 
these  diseases  are  very  rarely  encountered. 
Sandy  ground  may  also  be  held  to  afford  a 
healthy  foundation,  since  it  prevents  decom 
position  of  contained  matters.  Senator  and 


Flugge  have  found  that  one  volume  of  sand 
will  absorb  and  hold  two  hundred  and  fifty 
volumes  of  sewage. 

Natural  Filter. 

Koch,  however,  modified  PettenkoferV 
view  by  showing  that  the  ground  serves  also 
as  a  filter,  the  bacteria  remaining  for  the 
greater  part  in  the  upper  layers,  while  the 
purified  liquids  descend  to  lower  levels. 
From  the  surface  of  the  ground  these  germs 
are  washed  almost  completely  away,  either 
by  water  flowing  over  the  surface,  or  by 
showers  of  rain,  and  collecting  in  streams 
and  wells,  originate  through  drinking-water 
a  new  source  of  infection.  Hence  a  gradual, 
but  constant  decrease  in  mortality  followed 
the  introduction  of  sewerage  into  Munich, 
the  classical  typhoid  city  of  Europe,  aru? 
into  Calcutta,  the  breeding-place  of  cholera. 

Upon  the  development  of  tuberculosis, 
too,  the  purification  of  the  ground  exercises 
a  retarding  influence,  for  since  the  draining 
of  the  site  of  Munich  and  since  the  intro 
duction  of  a  pure  water  supply  into  thai 
city,  the  mortality  of  consumption  has  di 
minished  by  a  full  third. 

From  a  bacteriological  point  of  view,  ad 
mixture  of  sewage  with  a  water  can  be 
injurious  only  when  that  sewage  contains 
noxious  bacteria.  If,  through  any  process, 
the  sewage  be  freed  from  such  bacteria,  it, 
will  be  deprived  of  all  bacteric  infectious 
qualities. 

Germs  of  Disease. 

Trie  most  common  natural  process  by 
which  sewage  is  freed  of  bacteria  is  filtration 
through  the  soil.  If  all  the  bacteria  are  re 
moved,  the  sewage  can  contain  no  death- 
dealing  species,  but  if  they  are  not  all 
removed  and  the  sewage  passes  into  a  water 
supply,  the  latter  will  be  in  danger  of  in 
fectious  contamination  so  soon  as  the  sewage 
contains  disease-producing  bacteria. 


HEALTHY  DWELLINGS. 


287 


A  veritable  pest-hole  exists  in  the  cellar  of 
many  a  house  otherwise  healthily  construc 
ted.  When  dark  and  damp,  as  so  often  is  the 
case,  and  especially  when  made  the  reposi 
tory  of  fuel,  ashes,  refuse  and  decaying 
vegetables  and  fruit,  it  furnishes  a  most 
favorable  spot  for  the  propagation  of  noxious 
germs.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  no  part  of  the 
house  -demands  more  frequent  inspection  or 
more  thorough  airing.  Its  air  is  constantly 
passing,  through  the  floors  as  well  as  by  way 
of  chimney-flues  and  air-shafts,  to  the  apart 
ments  above,  and,  unless  constantly  renewed, 
carries  with  :t  all  manner  of  deadly  influ 
ences. 

The  supreme  sanitary  importance  of  the 
removal  of  all  sewage  in  order  to  prevent 
the  development  of  disease  germs  is  self- 
evident.  Several  systems  have  been  pro 
posed  for  this  purpose.  Among  them  we 
note  the  barrel  system  ;  the  pumping  system, 
which  is  in  general  use  in  France  and  Bel 
gium,  and  which  is  quicker  and  safer  than 
the  barrel  system  ;  the  sewer  system,  which 
is  best  as  put  in  practice  in  Berlin.  By 
means  of  large  pumps  the  sewage  is  raised 
from  the  sewers  and  poured  over  a  large  tract 
of  land,  upon  which  it  spreads,  and  from 
which  it  runs  off,  after  depositing  its  excre- 
mentitious  matters.  Although  it  has  been 
in  operation  only  a  few  years,  this  system 
has  proved  remunerative,  the  farmers  con 
senting  to  pay  good  prices  for  the  offal  thus 
collected.  In  this  way  matters  usually  found 
injurious  by  the  inhabitants  of  other  cities 
are  turned  to  account  by  the  people  of  Berlin. 

Prevention  of  Sickness. 

Where  the  removal  of  excrement  cannot 
be  accomplished  systematically  and  thor 
oughly,  care  must  be  taken  in  regard  to  the 
arrangement  and  disposition  of  the  closets, 
particularly  with  a  view  to  the  condition  of 
the  ground.  Decomposition  progresses  very 


rapidly,  and  the  gases  and  exhalations  pro 
duced  are  often  repulsive  in  the  extreme. 
Gases  spread  very  readily  underground,  as 
has  been  repeatedly  seen  in  cases  where 
illuminating  gas,  escaping  from  the  mains, 
has  entered  cellars,  basements,  and  even 
higher  floors  of  houses.  In  some  of  these  no 
gas-pipes  or  fixtures  existed  at  all,  and  still 
the  inmates  fell  sick  from  inhaling  gas 
because  a  gas-main  in  the  neighborhood  had 
burst 

The  principal  hygienic  rules  to  be  observed 
in  the  interest  of  domestic  disinfection  are 
the  following :  The  great  danger  of  sewer 
gases  entering  our  dwelling  houses  is  best 
averted  by  opening  a  connection  between  the 
sewer  pipes  and  a  chimney.  This  furnishes 
an  exit  for  the  gases  generated  in  these  pipes, 
gases  whose  lightness  tends  to  force  them 
upward,  and  which  escape  the  more  readily 
if  a  fire  is  burning  in  the  range  or  fire-place 
below.  By  this  means  the  offending  gases 
are  either  destroyed  by  fire  and  smoke  within 
the  chimney,  or  else  are  dissipated  over  the 
roof  without  finding  an  opportunity  to  cause 
sickness.  The  pipe  must  not  enter  the 
chimney  upon  a  lower  floor  than  another 
opening,  nor  even  in  its  immediate  vicinity. 
Noxious  Gases. 

Among  the  most  dangerous  appliances  is 
a  modern  house  are  the  stationary  washbowls 
and  the  bath-rooms  in  its  upper  stories. 
Traps  are  wholly  insufficient  for  their  in 
tended  purpose.  A  better  way  of  keeping 
gases  out  of  the  room,  aside  from  the  ar 
rangement  detailed  above,  consists  in  closing 
the  drain-hole  at  the  bottom  of  a  tub  or 
basin  so  as  to  keep  water  always  standing 
there. 

George  E.  Waring,  Jr.,  in  his  article  on 
"  Drainage  and  Sewerage,"  makes  the  fol 
lowing  remarks ;  "  Running  water  confined 
with  a  narrow  channel,  and  so  compelled  to 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


move  with  force  sufficient  to  give  an  ener 
getic  scouring  to  the  walls  of  its  conduit, 
may  be  trusted  to  carry  with  it  or  to  drive 
before  it  pretty  nearly  all  foreign  matter 
that  may  have  been  contributed  to  it ;  but  the 
moment  this  vigorous  current  is  checked, 
that  moment  the  tendency  to  excessive  de- 
oosit  begins. 

"  It  is  checked  in  practice  in  various  ways : 
first,  by  too  great  a  diameter  of  the  pipe ; 
second,  by  the  use  of  traps  larger  than  the 
pipes  leading  to  them  and  from  them,  thus 
increasing  the  natural  tendency  of  all  traps 
to  stagnation  and  deposit;  third,  by  the  use 
of  vertical  water-pipes,  which  are  almost 
universal  and  which  are  very  often  necessary. 
The  velocity  of  a  current,  measured  along 
the  axis  of  the  pipe,  is  less,  if  the  direction 
is  vertical,  than  if  it  is  laid  on  a  steep  slope, 
because  of  the  tendency  of  liquids  flowing 
through  vertical  pipes,  which  they  do  not 
fill,  to  adhere  to  the  walls  and  to  travel  with 
a  rotary  movement.  This  latter  point  is 
rather  one  of  curious  interest  than  of  prac 
tical  value." 

Bad  Drainage. 

"  However  defective  may  be  the  condition 
of  an  iron  soil-pipe,  vertical  or  horizontal, 
it  is  perfection  itself  compared  with  the 
usual  state  of  a  drain  laid  under  the  cellar 
floor.  Under  all  circumstances,  at  least  in 
all  work  hitherto  executed,  one  should  de 
mand  as  absolutely  necessary  that  the  drains 
under  the  cellar  floor  be  removed,  that  the 
earth  which  has  been  fouled  by  the  leakage 
of  its  joints  and  its  breaks  shall  be  taken 
out  to  the  clean,  untainted  soil  below,  and 
refilled  with  well-rammed,  pure  earth  or 
with  concrete,  the  drainage  being  carried 
through  a  properly-jointed  iron  pipe  above 
the  pavement,  and  preferably  with  a  fall 
from  the  ceiling  of  the  cellar  to  near  the 
at  the  point  of  outlet. 


"  It  sometimes  happens  that  the  necessity 
for  using  laundry-tubs  or  other  vessels  in 
the  cellar  makes  the  retention  of  an  under 
ground  course  imperative.  When  retained, 
the  drain  should  be  of  heavy  cast  iron, 
with  securely  leaded  joints,  tested  under  a 
head  of  several  feet.  When  found  to  be 
tight  and  secure,  it  should  not  be,  as  ordin« 
arily  recommended,  left  in  an  open  channel 
covered  with  boards  or  flags  and  surrounded 
by  a  vermin-breeding,  unventilatcd,  and  un 
inspected  space,  but  closely  and  completely 
imbedded  in  the  best  hydraulic  cement  mor 
tar.  Its  careful  testing  before  this  enclosure 
is  of  course  the  only  condition  under  which 
the  work  should  be  permitted." 

Frightful  Increase  of  Mortality. 

We  would  add,  however,  that  the  very 
best  plan  for  securing  freedom  from  sewei 
gas  in  the  dwelling  is  to  relegate  the  bath 
room  and  all  pipes  connected  with  the  sewers 
to  a  small  separate  building,  which  may  be 
connected  with  the  house  by  means  of  a  long 
covered  passage.  This  passage  must  be 
thoroughly  ventilated  at  all  times,  and  the 
doors  opening  from  either  end  must  be  kept 
constantly  closed.  Glazed  stoneware  or 
earthenware  pipes  are  to  be  preferred  for 
house-drains,  and  should  be  laid  in  well- 
puddled  clay  or  in  concrete,  care  being  taken 
to  have  the  joints  well  connected. 

To  demonstrate  the  influence  of  sewer  gas 
on  the  general  health  of  a  community,  the 
returns  of  the  Registrar-General  of  Great 
Britain  are  cited  by  several  authors.  In  the 
year  1847  an  order  was  issued  to  connect  the 
privies  in  the  city  of  London  with  the  general 
sewerage  system,  thus  creating  a  direct  com 
munication  between  the  rooms  of  c"  the 
houses  and  the  public  drain.  The  mortality 
increased  fourfold,  as  is  shown  by  comparing 
the  statistics  of  a  number  of  years  preceding 
1847  with  those  of  a  series  of  years  following. 


HEALTHY  DWELLINGS. 


289 


1'his  inciease,  or  at  least  a  large  part  of  It, 
can  be  traced  directly  to  the  effects  of  sewer 
gas,  and  to  the  poisoning  of  the  well  water, 
particularly  to  the  former. 

Earth  Closets. 

Where  earth  closets  take  the  place  of  sew 
ers,  a  shovelful  of  earth  should  be  thrown 
over  each  dejection.  The  best  earth  for  the 
purpose  consists  of  dry  clay,  two  parts,  and 
loam,  one  part.  Dry  mould  or  coal-ash 
liftings  may  also  be  used.  Green  vitriol 
should  be  thrown  in  when  an  epidemic  is 
threatened  or  very  hot  weather  prevails. 

Disinfection  is  to  be  accomplished  by 
means  of  antiseptics,  notably  fire,  boiling 
water,  chloride  of  lime  in  so  lution,  corrosive 
sublimate,  sulphurous  acid,  green  and  blue 
vitriol,  carbolic  acid,  chloride  of  zinc,  the 
mineral  acids,  and  chlorine.  It  is  best  to 
use  one  of  the  first  four  mentioned,  following 
it  up  with  one  of  the  others.  Carbolic  acid 
Koch  has  found  capable  of  stopping  the  de 
velopment  of  micro-organisms  when  diluted 
with  four  hundred  parts  of  water,  and  cor 
rosive  sublimate  in  a  solution  of  the  strength 
of  one  to  three  hundred  thousand.  The 
former,  a  product  of  coal-tar,  is  a  clear,  color 
less,  oily  liquid,  which  blisters  the  skin 
severely  in  a  few  moments,  is  extremely 
poisonous,  and  rapidly  proves  fatal. 

The  fact  is  to  be  noted  that  pure  carbolic 
acid  is  not  so  good  a  disinfectant,  and  does 
not  destroy  bacteria  with  the  same  certainty, 
as  when  diluted  with  water ;  and,  farther- 
more,  that  it  displays  its  disinfecting  proper 
ties  to  best  advantage  when  in  combination 
with  water  in  the  proportion  of  ten  parts  in 
the  hundred. 

Corrosive  sublimate  in  concentrated  form 
is  also  a  violent  poison,  and  it  may  be  reck 
oned  a  great  blessing  to  mankind  that  it 
suffices  to  destroy  bacterial  life  in  so  attenu 
ated  a  solution  as  to  threaten  no  danger  to 
19 


the  human  organism.  A  sublimate  solution 
of  one  in  five  thousand,  which  will  infallibly 
destroy  bacilli,  and  which  fully  suffices  for 
most  purposes  of  disinfection,  is  nevertheless, 
less  poisonous  than  a  five  per  cent,  carbolic 
solution.  In  many  hospitals  a  trial  of  other 
disinfectants,  such  as  boric  and  salicylic 
acids,  creolin,  thymol,  and  salol,  has  resulted 
only,  when  a  thorough  destruction  of  micro 
organisms  was  demanded,  in  a  return  to  one 
of  these  two  principal  agents. 

To  Disinfect  Clothing. 

Articles  to  be  disinfected  must  be  spread 
out,  not  left  packed  up  in  a  bundle.  Corro 
sive  sublimate  attacks  most  metals  in 
common  use,  and  must  therefore  not  be 
poured  into  leaden  pipes.  A  concentrated 
solution  of  corrosive  sublimate  contains  four 
ounces  of  the  chemical  in  a  gallon  of  water. 
By  adding  ten  grains  of  permanganate  of 
potash  or  a  pound  of  blue  vitriol  the  solution 
is  colored  and  rendered  recognizable.  This 
solution  should  be  left  to  act  for  about  two 
hours.  Boiling  water  takes  effect  in  thirty 
minutes.  Sulphurous  acid  is  most  efficacious 
in  damp  air. 

It  is  always  harmful  to  live  for  any  length 
of  time  in  rooms  that  are  damp  or  cold, 
rooms  having  walls  dripping  with  dampness 
or  floors  wet  from  scrubbing,  and  rooms 
where  clothes  are  hung  to  dry.  The  more 
moisture  the  air  contains,  the  less  capable  is 
it  of  absorbing  the  vapors  of  our  breath  and 
with  them  the  disease-germs  we  sometimes 
exhale.  These  are  then  partially  retained, 
and  impede  the  inhalation  of  £nre  air  rich 
in  oxygen, 

Lungs  and  Skin. 

This  interference  with  evaporation  from 
the  lungs  and  skin  is  very  hurtful  It  renders 
difficult  the  cooling-off  process  which  out 
bodies  constantly  require,  it  almost  arrests 


290 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


and  quite  neutralizes  the  activity  of  our  skin, 
and  interferes  with  the  purification  of  the 
blood.  The  best  proof  of  these  statements 
is  found  in  the  distressing  influence  of  so- 
called  "  muggy  weather,  "  when  the  tem 
perature  of  the  air  is  not  excessive,  but  the 
humidity  of  the  atmosphere  is  considerable. 
Dry  heat  at  from  ninety  to  one  hundred 
degrees  Fahrenheit  is  easier  borne  than  tem 
peratures  below  ninety  degrees  when  the 
humidity  is  at  the  point  of  saturation. 

Damp  air  which  is  at  the  same  time  cold 
is  more  objectionable  than  damp  warm  air. 
On  the  other  hand  very  dry  air  in  living- 
rooms  is  very  unhealthy.  This  condition  is 
particularly  found  in  rooms  heated  by  steam, 
by  hot  water  pipes,  or  in  those  heated  by 
means  of  a  furnace,  a  heater,  or  even  a  com 
mon  stove.  A  vessel  containing  water 
should  be  kept  in  every  such  room  upon  the 
stove  or  near  the  register.  The  air  heated 
by  a  furnace  should  pass  over  water  before 
entering  the  room. 

Location  of  the  House. 

Its  situation  is  a  most  important  factor  in 
the  choice  of  a  dwelling.  The  climate,  the 
direction  in  which  it  faces,  its  altitude,  its 
location  upon  a  hill-side  or  in  a  valley,  the 
neighboring  rivers,  ponds,  lakes,  swamps, 
and  marshes,  whether  upon  dry,  sandy,  or 
rocky  soil,  all  these  features  are  to  be  con 
sidered.  The  severity  of  the  sun's  rays,  the 
prevailing  direction  of  the  wind,  temper 
ature,  and  humidity  vary  in  different  locali 
ties.  Rooms  facing  south  are  warmer,  but 
subject  to  greater  changes  of  temperature  ; 
those  facing  north  are  cooler,  but  preserve  a 
more  equable  temperature.  Houses  situated 
in  deep  forests  or  lying  between  dense 
clumps  of  large  trees  are  apt  to  be  unhealthy 
from  dampness.  But  a  wood  at  some  dis 
tance  from  the  house  is  an  advantage,  since 
it  furnishes  abundance  of  oxygen  besides 


protection  from  high  winds  and  excessive  heat. 
It  is  best  not  to  live  near  a  factory,  mine, 
or  hospital,  since  injurious  gases,  vapors' 
and  dust  particles  may  be  developed  there. 
Swamps  and  marshes,  too,  are  bad  neighbors, 
for  the  humid  air  is  often  vitiated  by  the 
emanations  of  decomposing  animal  and 
vegetable  matter.  These  are  very  imhealthy. 
often  causing  marsh  fever,  malaria,  and  other 
ailments.  In  tropical  and  sub-tropical  re 
gions,  where  cold  northern  winds  are  unfelt, 
such  swamps  may  be  rendered  harmless  by 
planting  eucalyptus  trees  in  their  vicinity; 
and  sun-flowers,  in  the  temperate  zone,  may 
be  made  to  serve  a  similar  purpose  in  some 
degree,  especially  when  planted  in  large 
numbers. 

Substitute  for  Carpets. 

The  carpets  of  a  house  claim  a  special  men 
tion  from  us.  The  plan  of  carpeting  floors 
to  which  we  are  accustomed  is  a  decidedly 
unhealthy  one.  When  the  carpets  are  nailed 
to  the  floor  in  such  a  way  that  every  portion 
is  covered,  the  dust  which  settles  upon  them 
can  be  only  partially  removed  by  sweeping, 
and  accumulates  in  increasing  quantity  upon 
the  planking  below  as  well  as  in  the  meshes 
of  the  carpet  itself.  This  dust,  continually 
raised  by  every  footstep,  inevitably  renders 
the  air  unhealthy ;  and  the  evil  is  increased 
by  the  layers  of  thick  paper  and  cotton  wad 
ding  usually  interposed  between  the  floor  and 
the  carpet  by  way  of  lining. 

The  floor  should  be  inlaid,  or  at  any  rate 
laid  in  hard  woods,  and  should  be  frequently 
polished  with  wax.  One  large  carpet  is 
used  to  cover  the  greater  part  of  the  roomf 
or  perhaps  rugs  are  spread  in  different  places, 
beneath  tables,  and  before  sofas,  pianos,  book 
cases,  and  other  articles  of  furniture,  much 
as  we  are  accustomed  to  lay  them  upon  our 
carpets.  This  insures  much  greater  cleanli 
ness  and  a  remarkable  absence  of  dust. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Importance  of  Exercise. 


OTHING  need  be  said  concerning1  the 
value  of  sound  health.  It  is  the 
condition  on  which  all  success  in 
.ife  depends.  A  weak,  dyspeptic,  nerveless, 
draggy,  pale,  puny  man  in  any  business  or 
profession !  He  is  a  dismal  failure  from  the 
start.  A  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body  is  the 
first  requisite  for  making  the  most  of  yourself 
and  your  pursuit. 

Doctor  Mo  >ell  Mackenzie  is  the  physician 
of  the  royal  family  of  England  and  other 
royal  households  of  Europe,  and  is  a  high 
authority  on  everything  pertaining  to  health. 
Here  is  what  he  says  upon  the  necessity  of 
proper  exercise : 

In  the  child  the  physiological  craving  for 
movement  shows  itself  with  the  unrestrained 
freedom  of  the  natural  animal.  If  a  healthy 
baby  is  allowed  to  have  free  play  for  its 
limbs  it  will  go  through  a  series  of  impro 
vised  acrobatic  performances,  twisting  its 
limbs  and  turning  them  into  knots  that 
might  excite  the  envy  of  a  nrofessional  "  con 
tortionist." 

It  is  an  excellent  plan  to  give  an  infant 
perfect  muscular  freedom  for  some  time 
every  day ;  it  should  be  discumbered  of  any 
superfluous  clothing  and  laid  on  a  rug  or 
some  soft  material  on  the  floor  and  allowed 
to  kick  and  throw  itself  about  to  its  heart's 
content.  On  the  general  principle,  appar 
ently,  that  every  natural  tendency  is  a 
prompting  of  the  evil  spirit,  it  used  to  be 
the  universal  custom  to  restrain  the  move 
ments  of  infants'  limbs  by  swathing  them 
in  innumerable  bandages  as  if  they  were 
diminutive  mummies.  With  the  eager  life 


within  them  thus  "cabin'd,  cribbed,  con* 
fined,"  the  poor  little  things  must  have  beec 
mere  bundles  of  helpless  misery,  and  in  man)' 
cases  must  have  been  dwarfed  in  the  growth, 
if  not  deformed. 

The  more  enlightened  among  the  doctors 
fulminated  against  the  practice  for  centuries, 
but  in  that  as  in  most  other  things  medical 
wisdom  cried  in  the  street  and  no  man  re 
garded  it.  It  needed  the  genius  of  Rousseau 
to  persuade  the  more  civilized  part  of  the 
world  of  the  senseless  cruelty  of  tight  swadd 
ling  clothes,  and  even  at  this  day  his  teach 
ing  has  not  entirely  prevailed  even  in  his 
own  country.  Any  traveler  in  Italy  and 
Spain  can  see  for  himself  that  the 


The  exercises  on  the  single  bar,  and  on  the  parallel 
bars,  are  excellent  for  strengthening  the  muscles  of  the 
body.  Make  your  parallel  bars  ten  or  twelve  feet  in 
length,  each  set  firmly  on  two  posts,  and  from  27  to  35 
inches  apart.  For  the  single  bar  erect  two  posts  six 
feet  apart.  Mortise  a  groove  in  each  post,  bore  holes 
through  the  sides  of  the  post  into  the  groove,  and  also 
a  hole  through  each  end  of  the  bar.  Then  with  an  iron 
bolt  you  can  raise  or  lower  the  bar  as  you  like. 

Raise  the  body  by  placing  the  hands  on  the  bars ; 
then  swing  forward  and  backward ;  bend  the  arms  and 
lower  the  body  as  you  swing  forward,  then  straighten 
them.  The  latter  position  is  seen  in  the  above  figure, 

29I 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


master  is  not  abroad   as  regards   infantile 
hygiene. 

One  effect  of  the  "  trussing"  of  the  limbs 
in  infancy  may  be  observed  in  the  crowds  of 
cripples  and  misshapen  creatures  that  one  sees 
round  the  doors  of  churches  in  Europe. 
Nothing  strikes  the  "intelligent  foreigner" 
in  England  more  than  the  iiigh  standard  of 


Hang  upon  the  bars,  as  shown  in  the  figure,  and 
ywing  the  body  backward  and  forward ;  do  not  strain 
ihe  muscles  of  the  arms  and  chest 

physical  development  and  the  comparative 
rarity  of  deformity  in  the  bulk  of  the  popu 
lation.  When  staying  at  hotels  abroad  I 
have  often  noticed  the  admiration  aroused 
among  the  natives  by  the  superior  size  and 
strength  of  my  juvenile  countrymen,,  One 
reason  of  this  excellence  of  physique  un 
doubtedly  is  that  the  British  baby  is  from 
the  first  allowed  an  amount  of  liberty  in  the 
use  of  his  limbs  befitting  the  future  citizen  of 
a  free  country. 

As  the  child  grows  older  the  boisterousness 
with  which  it  romps  may  be  taken  as  a  pretty 
sure  index  of  its  state  of  health.  Mr.  Her 
bert  Spencer  speaks  with  a  sympathetic  in 
sight  which  was  hardly  to  be  expected  from 
a  philosopher — and,  moreover,  I  believe  I 
may  add  a  bachelor — of  the  torture  which  it 
is  to  a  healthy  child  to  "  sit  still."  Wordsworth 
is  a  physiologist  as  well  as  a  poet  when  he 


says  that  a  child  "  feels  its  life  in  every  limb." 
But  by  long-continued  confinement  and  re 
straint — that  is,  by  being  made  to  live  under 
totally  unnatural  conditions — this  wholesome 
exuberance  of  vitality  may  be  lost  and  give 
place  to  listlessness  and  even  positive  dislike 
of  play. 

Good  Animals,  First  of  All. 

In  our  devouring  zeal  for  the  gospel  of  the 
three  R's  ("'readin',  'ritin'  and 'rithmetic") 
we  are  apt  to  forget  that,  as  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer  puts  it,  "  the  first  requisite  for  suc 
cess  in  life  is  to  be  a  good  animal."  This  is 
a  much  more  important  matter  both  for  the 
present  rising  generation  and  for  the  future 
of  our  race  than  the  precocious  passing  of 
"examinations."  To  my  mind  the  physical 
education  of  our  children  is  one  of  the  most 


Place  your  hands  on  the  ends  of  the  bars,  and  swing 
the  body  forward  and  backward,  bending  the  arms  ana 
elevating  the  legs,  as  seen  in  the  figure. 

urgent  questions  of  the  day,  and  it  is  one 
which  might  well  engage  the  attention  of 
our  legislators. 

If  a  small  fraction  of  the  attention  that  is 
given  to  the  rearing  of  cattle  were  given 
to  the  bringing  up  of  children  Walt  Whit 
man's  prophetic  vision  of  a  nation  of  "sixty 
millions  of  magnificent  persons"  would  be 
be  in  a  fair  way  of  being  realized.  We 


IMPORTANCE  OF  EXERCISE. 


293 


HEALTHFyL  SPORTS, 


294 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


have  a  Minister  of  Agriculture  whose  duty 
it  is  to  see  that  the  four-footed  Common 
wealth  sustains  no  detriment ;  why  should 
there  not  be  a  Minister  of  Hominiculture 
charged  with  the  development  of  the  national 
resources  in  respect  of  that  not  altogether 


Swing  the  body  between  the  bars  ;  when  you  come 
ftito  the  position  shown  in  the  figure  spring  sidewise 
over  the  bar,  alighting  on  the  feet.  It  requires  agility 
to  do  this,  but  agility  is  what  you  are  seeking. 

valueless  product,  man?  The  "perfectibil 
ity"  of  the  human  race  depends  much  more 
on  physical  than  on  mental  culture,  for  in 
tellect,  energy  of  will,  and  strength  of 
moral  fibre  are  largely  dependent  on  sound 
bodily  health. 

How  then  are  children  to  be  made  "good 
animals?"  By  the  fullest  possible  develop, 
ment  of  their  bodily  powers.  How  is  this 
development  to  be  compassed?  Adapting 
Danton's  famous  saying,  I  answer,  by  exer 
cise,  by  exercise,  and  yet  again  by  exercise. 
There  can  be  no  dispute  about  this ;  the  only 
question  is  as  to  the  form  and  amount  of  the 
exercise.  The  period  of  childhood  may  be 
taken  as  extending  from  the  age  of  two  or 
three  years  up  to  puberty.  Now  what  is 
wanted  at  this  stage  is  not  so  much  the  ac 
quisition  of  muscular  strength  or  skill  as  a 
solid  foundation  of  general  health.  In  child 
hood  exercise  should  be  almost  exclusively 
general  or  hygienic ;  the  less  purely  local  or 
athletic  exercise  a  growing  child  has  the  bet 
ter  it  will  be  not  only  for  its  constitution, 
but  for  its  future  muscular  development. 


Very  young  children  should  be  encouraged 
to  run  about,  to  trundle  hoops,  or  if  at  the 
seaside,  to  build  castles,  etc.,  on  the  sand — ir 
short,  to  play  and  romp  instead  of  dawdling 
and  always  hanging  upon  a  nurse. 
The  Kindergarten. 

Walking  about  with  a  nursemaid  car! 
hardly  be  amusing  and  may  be  extremely 
fatiguing  to  her  little  charges.  Cut  them 
loose  and  let  them  romp.  In  the  way  of 
systematic  exercise  for  young  children  there 
is  nothing  better  than  the  kindergarten 
movements ;  the  fact  that  they  are  done  in 
company  with  other  children  and  often  to 
the  accompaniment  of  song  assimilates  these 
little  drills  to  games  and  lessens  the  danger 


Suspend  the  body  as  shown  in  the  tigure;  then 
raise  the  body  by  straightening  the  arms  ;  repeat  only 
five  or  six  times. 

of  their  being  looked  upon  as  tasks.  Fo.?, 
older  children  no  methodical  exercise,  how 
ever  scientifically  arranged,  can  compare 
with  the  boisterous  outdoor  games  which 
bring  every  muscle  into  play,  lash  the  heart 
into  a  gallop,  and  make  the  vital  bellows — 
the  lungs — blow  the  fire  of  life  into  a  glow. 


IMPORTANCE  OF  EXERCISE. 


295 


The  excitement  of  the  game  is  what  doctors 
would  call  its  "active  principle,"  for  gladness 
is  the  best  of  all  tonics.  Even  the  shouting, 
however  it  may  vex  the  ears  of  the  old 
fogys,  is  in  itself  an  important  element  in 
the  exercise,  as  it  brings  the  lungs  and  the 
muscles  of  the  chest  and  throat  into  vigorous 
action. 

Better  than  some  'Ologies. 

It  is  a  melancholy  fact,  however,  that,  as 
Mr.  Walter  Besant  pointed  out  some  years 
ago,  neither  children  nor  young  people  really 
know  how  to  play.  In  France  games  have 
almost  fallen  into  oblivion,  even  among  the 


Swing  the  body  between  the  bars  a  few  times  ;  then 
let  go  the  hands  and  throw  the  body  forward,  alighting 
on  the  feet. 

children  of  the  well-to-do.  In  Belgium 
some  years  ago  open-air  games  had  become 
a  lost  art,  and  a  movement  was  set  on  foot 
by  some  enlightened  educational  reformers 
to  teach  children  to  play.  The  result  is  that 
the  children  are  "straighter,  stronger  and 
and  more  gay" — the  last  point  being,  even 
as  regards  health,  just  as  important  as  the 
Others.  In  the  United  States  physical  cul 
ture  is  also  beginning  to  be  made  a  part  of 
the  ordinary  school  curriculum. 

At  Boston,  Dr.  Edward  M.  Hartwell  has 
been  appointed  Doctor  of  Physical  Training 
in  the  public  schools  at  a  salary  of  $3000  a 
year,  and  the  lyings  or  Swedish  system  of 


exercises  is  being  introduced  into  many 
American  schools.  Muscular  drill  is  not 
quite  the  same  thing  as  games,  but,  as  Sil 
Thomas  More, said,  "Marry,  it  is  somewhat." 
I  believe  it  would  add  immensely  to  the  use- 


Suspend  the  body  under  the  bars ;  then,  keeping  the 
legs  straight,  turn  a  summersault,  alighting  on  the  feet. 
This  is  not  so  difficult  a  movement  as  it  appears  to  be. 

fulness  of  board  schools  as  nurseries  of  effi 
cient  citizens,  if,  as  is  the  case  in  the  public 
schools  of  Belgium,  their  teaching  staff  in 
cluded  a  professor  of  games.  It  would  be  no 
loss  to  the  community  if  a  few  of  the  'ologies 
with  which  the  brains  of  poor  starvelings 
are  at  the  present  forced  into  premature  ex 
haustion  were  sacrificed  to  make  room  for 


Suspend  yourself  as  shown  in  the  figure ;  then  lowe: 
and  raise  the  body,  keeping  the  legs  in  a  horizontal 
position. 

the  sound  physical  and  moral  training  sup 
plied  by  well-ordered  play. 

Among  the  upper  classes,  thanks  to  the 
somewhat  excessive  precautions  against 
"  overpressure  "  taken  in  our  public  schools 


296 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


and  universities,  the  youth  of  this  country 
give  at  least  as  much  time  and  attention  to 
the  cultivation  of  their  muscles  as  to  that  of 
their  brains.  It  is  this  early  physical  train- 


Stand  between  the  bars,  and,  placing  a  hand  on  each 
bar,  swing  the  body  over  one,  as  seen  in  the  figure, 
then  over  the  other ;  repeat  ten  times. 

ing  that  makes  the  members  of  that  class  of 
society  politely  termed  "barbarians"  by 
Matthew  Arnold  as  superior  in  body  as  they 
are  often  inferior  in  mind  to  those  who  have 
to  bear  the  yoke  of  life  from  their  childhood. 


Swing  the  body  between  the  bars,  then  turn  the  body 

so  as  to  bring  one  leg  over  the  bar,  as  shown  in  the 
figure ;  then  alternate,  and  bring  the  other  leg  over 
the  other  bar. 

Manly  Sports. 

Parents  are  sometimes  unwilling  to  allow 
their  children  to  share  in  the  games  of  their 
oompanions — especially  football — from  fear 


of  accidents.  On  this  subject  I  cannot  do 
better  than  quote  the  words  of  Dr.  Clement 
Dukes,  whose  medical  experience  of  school 
boys  as  physician  to  Rugby  for  many  years 
is  probably  unrivalled. 

"If,"  he  says,  with  regard  to  football, 
"  twenty  years'  experience  at  the  very  birth 
place  of  this  much-abused  game,  played  three 
or  four  times  every  week  in  the  winter — and 
very  warm  games  sometimes,  owing  to  the 
rivalry  between  houses  for  the  glory  of  being 
*  cock  house ' — counts  for  anything,  it  ought 
to  make  parents  and  doctors  consider  the 
matter  more  thoughtfully.  I  have  never  yet 
had  one  serious  accident  from  football — no 
accident  more  severe  than  I  have  had  from 


Place  the  legs  over  the  bars  and  lower  the 
part  of  the  body ;  clasp  the  bars  with  your  hands  and 
turn  a  summersault. 

cricket,  house  runs,  steeplechases,  swimming 
baths,  gymnasiums  and,  above  all,  by-play. 
If  the  game  were  always  played  by  boys,  the 
outcry  against  football  must  cease." 

With  regard  to  girls,  I  agree  with  Mrs. 
Garrett  Anderson  that,  with  one  or  two  ex 
ceptions  (among  which  I  should  certainly 
number  football,  cricket  and  baseball)  they 
can  play  at  the  same  games  as  boys,  and  they 
should  be  encouraged,  and,  unless  physically 
unfit,  compelled  to  do  so.  Gymnastics  should 
not,  I  think,  be  attempted  by  girls  before  th« 
age  of  twelve  or  thereabouts,  and  then  the) 
should  be  carefully  adapted  to  the  child'/ 
powers,  and  should  be  pursued  under  thf 
supervision  of  an  experienced  medical  adviser 


IMPORTANCE  OF 


297 


Marching  and  wheeling,  practiced  with  light 
dumb  bells  and  staves,  etc.,  especially  if  the 
maneuvers  are  gone  through  to  the  accom 
paniment  of  music,  are  particularly  suited  to 
young  girls.  They  give  grace  and  precision 
to  the  movements  while  developing  the 
strength. 

Benefit  of  Gymnastics. 

Adolescence  extends  from  puberty  (about 
fourteen)  to  twenty-three  or  thereabouts. 
Strictly  speaking,  it  reaches  to  twenty-five, 
as  the  growth  cannot  be  considered  complete 
till  then.  There  are  two  easily  distinguish 
able  periods  in  adolescence,  the  first  of  which 
is  what  may  be  called  the  maturity  of  boy 
hood,  while  the  second  is  the  dawn  of  man 
hood.  In  the  former  the  conditions  and 


Stand  between  the  bars,  place  the  hands  on  the  ends 
of  the  bars,  then  swing  the  body  forward  and  back 
ward,  finally  throwing  the  legs  over  the  bars,  as  shown 
in  the  figure. 

limitations  of  exercise  are  much  the  same  as 
for  the  prepuberty  period.  They  resolve 
themselves  into  this — plenty  of  exercise,  no 
training. 

While  the  body  is  in  active  growth  all  the 
vital  energy  seems  concentrated  on  the  pro 
cess  of  development.  There  is  no  storing  up 
of  reserve  force  as  in  adult  life  ;  every  atom 
of  material  is  immediately  used  up  in  meet 
ing  the  wants  of  the  growing  organism. 
Exercise,  whether  in  games  or  in  gymnastic 
maneuvers,  is  useful,  as  helping-  the  due 


performance  of  the  vital  functions,  but  any 
thing  like  fatigue  is  most  injurious. 

In  estimating  the  dangers  of  any  particulai 
kind  of  exercise  it  is  *::>t  the  giants,  but  the 
ordinary  sons  of  men  who  form  the  bases  of 
any  general  formula.  The  weaker  lads  are 
often  tall,  growth  having  outrun  general 
development,  and  in  their  case  violent  and 


Place  the  body  in  a  straight  position,  as  seen  in  thts 
figure  ;  then  walk  on  the  hands  forward  and  backward 
over  the  whole  length  of  the  bars,  placing  the  hands 
alternately  fonpard  or  backward. 

prolonged  muscular  exercise  should  not  be 
permitted  till  the  frame  is  sufficiently  con- 
solidated  to  bear  the  expenditure  of  nervous 
and  vital  energy  which  it  entails.  From 
twenty  to  thirty  it  matters  little  what  kind 
of  exercise  is  taken,  so  long  as  it  is  sufficient 
without  being  excessive.  For  men  who  live 
in  towns  it  is  often  very  important  to  obtain 
the  maximum  amount  of  exercise  in  a  rela* 
tively  short  time,  and  in  such  cases  a  gallop 
for  an  hour  or  even  three-quarters  of  an  hour 
answers  the  purpose  well.  Fencing,  how 
ever,  is  perhaps  the  most  effective  form  of 
concentrated  exercise,  but  it  has  the  disad- 


298 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


vantage  of  exercising  the  right  side  of  the 
body  much  more  than  the  left,  and  thus  in 
some  cases  producing  a  slight  deviation  from 
perfect  symmetry. 

Value  of  Kowing. 

,  Rowing,  or  rather  sculling,  is  perhaps  the 
most  perfect  form  of  exercise  for  young  men 
and  girls,  for  nearly  all  the  muscles  of  the 
body  are  brought  into  play,  with  the  excep 
tion  of  those  passing  from  the  front  of  the 
chest  to  the  arm.  In  young  persons  with  a 
tendency  to  phthisis  or  asthma  I  have  many 


Place  yourself  on  the  bars  as  in  the  figure,  then 
loosen  the  hold  of  the  hands  and  spring  forward  a  few 
inches,  thus  moving  from  one  end  of  the  bars  to  the 
other. 

times  seen  sculling  effect  a  complete  cure. 
During  the  period  of  adolescence  gymnastics 
under  a  competent  instructor  are  often  of  the 
most  signal  service,  especially  to  young 
people  who  are  naturally  awkward  or  other 
wise  physically  backward. 

I  need  not  dwell  on  the  necessity  of  ex 
ercise  for  women  further  than  to  say  that 
competent  authorities  look  upon  it  as  the 
best  safeguard  against  certain  diseases  pecu 
liar  to  their  sex,  the  enormous  prevalence  of 
which  at  the  present  day  is  no  doubt  in 
great  measure  due  to  the  physical  indolence 
which  many  of  them  have  been  taught  to 
consider  as  a  grace  rather  than  a  defect — I 
bad  almost  said  a  vice.  In  view  of  this  it  is 


a  sign  of  the  times  that  the  Ladies1 
Berkeley  Athletic  Club,  in  New  York,  be* 
came  a  flourishing  "  institution "  in  one 
year.  I  may  say  here  that  I  think  it  is  a 
mistake  for  women  to  aim  directly  at  the 
development  of  muscle.  The  Venus  of  Milo; 
not  the  half  masculine  Amazon,  must  alway 
be  the  type  of  physical  perfection  for  ther^ 
Their  exercise  should  there-fore  be  chiefly 
hygienic  rather  than  athletic. 
Sports  for  Girls. 

A  great  French  anatomist,  Cruveilhier, 
was  ungallant  enough  to  say  that  whatever 
women  might  learn  to  do  they  never  could 
succeed  in  running  gracefully.  Cando* 
compels  me  to  say  that  I  think  the  indict? 


Place  the  hands  on  the  bar,  and  raise  and  lower  the 
body,  bringing  the  bar  across  the  chest ;  repeat  only  3 
few  times. 

ment  true,  but  that  and  throwing  the  bal, 
are  about  the  only  things  which  they  can* 
not  do  with  twice  the  grace  and  nearly  all 
the  strength  of  men. 

One  cannot  expect  under  the  storm  and 
stress  of  active  life  to  maintain  his  "  condi« 
tion ;  "  he  must  be  satisfied  with  having  laid 


IMPORTANCE  OF  EXERCISE. 


299 


A  foundation  of  physical  strength  which  will 

make    his  subsequent  life  happier,   longer 

and  more   useful    than  it  would  otherwise 

have  been.     His  delight  in  and  capacity  for 

most  forms  of  exercise  will  continue  unabated 

for  many  years  past  the  age  (46)  fixed  by 

j  the  Romans  as  the  limit  of  enlistment.  Those 

'requiring   elasticity    of  the    bones  will  be 


Clasping  the  bar  with  both  hands,  swing  forward 
and  backwardjbringing  the  bar  on  the  return  movement 
level  with  the  breast,  as  indicated  in  the  figure. 

given  up  first ;  foot  ball  is  a  dangerous  ana 
chronism  after  five  and  twenty.  Those  call 
ing  for  swiftness  of  foot  will  be  surrendered 
next,  and  the  sacrifice  is  made  easier  by  in 
creasing  height  of  body  and  stiffness  of  limb. 
In  the  borderland  between  youth  and  middle 
age  many  men  are  apt  to  exceed  in  the 
matter  of  exercise,  possibly  from  unwilling 
ness  to  acknowledge  that  cruel  time  is  begin 
ning  to  cloy  them.  On  the  other  hand, 
those  on  whom  middle  age  has  stamped  its 
mark,  whose  "  wind  "  is  like  woman's  love, 
as  described  by  Hamlet,  and  whose  waistcoat 
is  beginning  to  yield  to  circumstances,  have, 
as  it  were,  to  be  driven  to  the  stake  of  phys 
ical  exertion. 

How  Much  Exercise? 

The  amount  and  kind  of  exercise  required 
by  people  between  forty  and  fifty  depends 
largely  on  individual  peculiarities.  There 
are,  however,  certain  definite  standards  by 
which  the  amount  of  physical  work  done  in 
different  kinds  of  exercise  can  be  accurately 
estimated.  It  is  calculated  that  an  ordinary 


laborer  does  work  which  is  the  equivalent  ot 
lifting  from  three  hundred  to  four  hundred 
tons  one  foot  in  a  working  day,  and  Pro 
fessor  Haughton  reckons  that  a  man  walk 
ing  on  a  nearly  level  surface  at  the  rate  of 
about  three  miles  an  hour  expends  as  much, 
force  as  would  raise  one-twentieth  part  of  the 
weight  of  his  body  through  the  distance 
walked.  Now  supposing  a  man  weighs  160 
pounds,  in  his  clothes,  in  walking  a  mile  he 
would  raise  eight  pounds  one  mile ;  if  he 
walked  six  miles  at  the  same  rate  he  would 
have  raised  113  tons  one  foot.  This  would 
represent  a  fair  standard  of  exercise  for  a 
healthy  man  of  fifty  years  of  age  ;  if  younger 
he  should  do  rather  more,  if  older  he  might 
do  less. 


Placing  the  hands  on  thj  bar,  swing  the 
then  over,  the  bar ;  repeat  five  or  six  time 


or  six  times. 

I  have  already  pointed  out  that  riding  is 
an  excellent  "  pemmican  "  or  concentrated 
essence  of  exercise,  but  it  is  especially  in 
middle  life  that  Sydenham's  aphorism  holds, 
that  the  outside  of  a  horse  is  the  best  thing 
for  the  inside  of  a  man.  Steady  going,  how 
ever,  ought  to  be  the  rule,  and  a  bishop's  cob 
is  the  ideal  mount  after  fifty,  except  in  the 
case  of  hunting  men,  who  are  always  a.t 
home  in  the  saddle. 


30O 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


Dr.  Holmes'  Pithy  Saying1. 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  who,  it  must  not 
be  forgotten,  is  a  doctor,  and  even  an  ex-pro 
fessor  of  anatomy,  as  well  as  a  charming 
writer,  speaks  with  almost  Pindaric  enthus 
iasm  of  riding,  during  which  the  liver  "goes 
up  and  down  like  the  dasher  of  a  churn  in 
the  midst  of  the  other  vital  arrangements," 


With  the  arms  behind  the  back,  clasp  the  bar 
with  the  hands,  then  swing  the  body  forward  and 
backward  into  a  horizontal  position. 

while  "the  brains  also  are  shaken  up  like 
coppers  in  a  money-box."  Perhaps  the 
mutual  collision  of  brain  cells  and  "higher 
centers"  may  be  as  stimulating  to  the  intel 
lect  as  the  "shock  of  minds"  in  debate.  For 
those  who  cannot  afford  horse  exercise  there 
is  the  tricycle,  which,  as  a  means  of  exercise 
for  the  middle-aged,  has  a  great  future  before 
it  Dr.  Oscar  Jennings,  an  English  physi 
cian,  practicing  in  Paris,  has  written  a  book, 
in  which  he  tells  how  he  diminished  his  cir 
cumference,  which  was  beginning  to  give 
signs  of  Falstaffian  possibilities,  and  evicted 
a  host  of  infirmities  by  cycling  alone  with 
out  any  other  forms  of  exercise.  Then  there 
is  golf,  an  ideal  game,  but  with  writers 
like  Arthur  Balfour  and  Mr.  Andrew  Lang 
to  hymn  its  praises  it  needs  no  additional 
praise.  A  great  amount  of  walking  is  in 
volved  in  this  game. 

To  sum  up,  middle-aged  people  between, 
say,  thirty-five  and  fifty-five  or  sixty,  should 


ride  a  cycle  one  hour  or  walk  two  nour* 
every  day.  These  exercises  may  be  varied,  if 
the  opportunity  offers,  by  rowing  or  fencing, 
but  I  do  not,  as  a  rule,  recommend  to  prac 
tice  swimming  after  forty. 

I  cannot  conclude  my  remarks  on  middle 
age  without  an  emphatic  word  of  warning 
as  to  the  mistake  that  is  often  made  by  men 
who  rush  off  to  some  foreign  country  after  a 
year  ot  exhausting  brain  work,  insufficient 
exercise  and  too  probably  over-feeding,  and 
straightway  proceed  to  climb  the  first  hillside 
they  come  to  or  take  long  fatiguing  walks. 


Suspend  yourself  as  shown  in  the  figure,  then  i-aisc 
the  body  until  your  head  touches  the  bar ;  repeat  onlv 
a  few  times. 

thus  passing  at  once  from  a  long  period  of 
repose  to  violent  exertion,  with  muscles 
flabby  from  disuse  and  a  heart  utterly  unpre 
pared  for  any  sudden  call.  Can  we  wonder 
at  the  result  that  often  follows?  For  those 
over  forty-five  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
the  best  view  of  a  mountain  is  from  its  foot 
Or  if  they  climb,  it  should  be  very  slowK 
with  frequent  stops  for  rest 


.    LE'ZETORA, 
Colored  Lady  Athlete — Heavy  Weight  Act. 


FINE;  SPECIMEN  OF  PHYSICAL  DEVELOPMENT, 
PETER  JACKSON,  ATHLETE. 


CHAPTER  XXItt, 


How  to  Strengthen  the  Muscles. 


7ERYONE  admits  that  it  is  wiser  and 
better  to  prevent  an  evil,  while  it  is 
in  oryj's  power  to  do  so,  than  to 
remedy  it  afterwards.  It  is  better  tc  avert 
disease  by  appropriate  means  than  first  to 
induce  h  and  then  attempt  to  cure  it  Even 
if,  for  the  preservation  of  health,  some  sacri 
fice  of  habits  and  tastes  should  be  found 
necessary,  surely  this  would  not  be  too  high 
a  price  for  the  undisturbed  enjoyment  of  a 
blessing,  the  absence  of  which  diminishes  the 
value  of  all  other  good  things  in  life ! 

It  is  a  generally  known  and  recognized 
rule  for  the  preservation  of  health  that  one 
should  "  take  a  walk  "  every  day.  This  is, 
no  doubt,  beneficial  to  health.  Still,  expe 
rience  shows  us  that  walking  is  not  the  in 
fallible  and  all-sufficient  means  it  is  supposed 
to  be ;  for  a  great  many  most  eager  and  con 
scientious  walkers  are  both  weak  and  ailing, 
and  become  worse  and  worse  in  spite  of  their 
walks.  By  this  we  do  not  mean  to  say  that 
the  walking  is  the  cause  of  their  debility  and 
sickliness,  but  that  this  form  of  exercise  does 
not  fulfil  all  the  conditions  required  for  exer 
cise  aiming  at  the  prevention  or  cure  of 
disease. 

To  serve  this  purpose  the  exercises  used 
must  be  estimated  and  defined  beforehand  as 
to  their  energy,  extent  and  physiological 
effects,  and  chosen  accordingly.  But  in  ordi 
nary  walking,  or  in  riding,  driving,  rowing, 
etc.,  the  effects  are  more  or  less  one-sided  and 
vague.  The  same  defect  is  also  to  be  found 
in  most  forms  of  labor  belonging  to  the  dif 
ferent  trades  and  professions,  though,  of 
course,  varying  according  as  these  vary.  For 


there  is  this  essential  difference  between 
gienic  gymnastic  movements  and  thost 
occurring  in  actual  labor,  that  the  former, 
having  as  their  sole  aim  the  promotion  of  a 
normal  development  and  action  in  the  human 
individual,  both  the  position  from  which  the 
movement  starts  and  the  manner  in  which  it 
is  performed  are  entirely  calculated  to  sub 
serve  this  aim,  whereas  ordinary  labor  exacts 
such  attitudes  and  movements  as  will  best 
suit  the  work,  even  if  these  should  happen 
to  be  ever  so  much  inimical  to  health. 

The  consequence  of  this  is  that  the  more 
or  less  one-sided  action  belonging  to  most 
forms  of  daily  occupation  in  the  long  run 
disturbs  the  harmony  of  the  body,  so  that 
even  working  men  often  are  greatly  in  need 
of  systematic  gymnastic  exercises  to  counter 
act  the  one-sided  influence  to  which  their 
frame  has  been  subjected  in  their  occupation ; 
how  much  more,  then,  persons  leading  a 
sedentary  life,  and  having  essentially  mental 
occupations  ? 

It  is  an  undeniable  fact  that  suitable  bod 
ily  exercise  (together  with  good  food,  fresh 
air,  and  bathing)  is  the  most  important 
means  for  the  preservation  of  health. 

A  fire  can  be  kept  up  by  fuel  and  a  free 
supply  of  air ;  an  engine  can  continue  work 
ing  as  long  as  it  is  provided  with  sufficient 
steam-power,  and  withal  kept  in  a  normal 
state.  Now,  though  the  living  organism 
does  not  bear  any  essential  resemblance  to 
these  things,  still  it  should  be  borne  in  mind 
that  physical  life  might  continue,  without 
illness,  up  to  old  age,  if  the  conditions  01; 
which  it  depends  were  completely  fulfilled 
•  —  •  301 


*O2 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


A  YOUNG  ATHLETE— TAKEN  FROM  LIFE. 


The  living  organism  is  absolutely  distin 
guished  from  a  machine  by  the  power  of 
regulating  for  itself  the  continual  production 
of  the  amount  of  heat  necessary  to  its  func 
tions,  and  also  of  determining  and  directing 
its  own  movements. 

Heat,  motion,  and  also  mental  work  are 


dependent  on  the  nutritive  meaner— -pure  air 
and  proper  food ;  but  it  is  through  the  action 
of  the  various  organs  that  the  nutritive 
material  undergoes  the  changes  by  means  of 
which  it  can  fulfil  the  conditions  indispensa 
ble  to  the  sustenance  of  the  vital  forces— 
heat,  motion,  and  mental  action. 


HOW  TO  STRENGTHEN  THE  MUSCLES- 


Now,  it  has  been  proved  beyond  doubt 
chat,  through  bodily  exercise,  the  organs 
may  be  stimulated  to  more  powerful  action, 
to  more  abundant  absorption  of  nutriment,  in 
consequence  of  which  both  bodily  and 
mental  faculties  gain  in  energy  and  health ; 
for  health  is  preserved  through  the  energetic 
-ind  regular  activity  of  the  organs,  and  a  dis 
ease  is  cured  if  the  disordered  action  of  the 
organs,  accompanying  it,  is  brought  back  to 
a  normal  state. 

The  influence  of  movements  on  the  human 
organism,  as  a  whole,  will  be  more  clearly  un 
derstood  by  the  following  remarks  on  its 
effects  on  the  functions  of  the  various  organs. 

All  parts  of  the  body  draw  from  the  blood 
the  material  necessary  for  their  development, 
and  the  repair  of  the  waste  constantly  going 
on  within  them  in  producing  the  forces 
characteristic  of  living  beings.  It  follows 
from  this,  that  new  material  must  constantly 
be  taken  up  into  the  blood,  instead  of  that 
used  up  by  the  organism,  or  else  the  compo 
sition  of  the  blood  will  be  disturbed,  thus 
rendering  it  unfit  for  the  proper  nutrition  of 
the  body.  The  blood  is,  in  this  respect,  like 
a  bank,  which  subsists  through  equilibrium 
between  expenditure  and  income.  An  ener 
getic  and  normal  circulation  promotes  within 
the  blood  increased  expenditure  as  well  as 
increased  income — that  is  to  say,  the  active 
and  normal  exchange  of  matter  and  the 
active  and  normal  renewal  and  revivifying 
thus  effected  in  the  material  of  which  our 
body  is  composed,  is — health.  .-» 

The  heart  is  the  organ  which  maintains 
the  circulation  of  the  blood,  but  bodily  exer 
cise  can  most  powerfully  promote  and  regu 
late  the  circulation.  Every  one  may  ascer 
tain  by  himself  that  exercise  drives  the  blood 
more  forcibly  to  the  skin — for  instance,  as  is 
seen  in  the  raised  color  of  the  cheeks  and 
the  quickened  pulse  following  muscular  ex 


ertion.  The  increased  heat  felt,  when  taking 
brisk  exercise,  is  also  a  proof  of  a  quickened 
circulation  and  increased  exchange  of  mater 
ial.  Moreover,  it  is  a  well-known  fact  that 
exercise  increases  the  appetite,  which  indi 
cates  the  want  of  new  material  for  the  blood. 
This  is  what  actual  experience  has  shown  us 
as  to  bodily  exercise  accelerating  the  circula 
tion.  But  there  are  also  the  most  convinc- 


With  body  erect  and 
hands  at  sides,  move 
the  head  to  right  and 
left,  and  forward  and 
backward ;  strength 
ens  the  muscles  of  the 
neck. 


With  hands  on  the  hips, 
move  the  upper  part  of  the 
body  to  right  and  left,  and 
forward  and  backward ;  this 
strengthens  the  muscles  of 
the  chest  and  back. 


ing   theoretical   proofs    that    circulation   is 
promoted  by  means  of  muscular  exercise. 

Muscular  contractions  produce  a  pressure 
on  the  blood-vessels  that  penetrate  or  are 
contiguous  to  the  active  muscles.  The 
effect  of  this  pressure  is  somewhat  different 
in  arteries  (vessels  carrying  blood  from  the 
heart)  and  in  veins  (vessels  carrying  blood  to 
the  heart),  on  account  of  the'  difference  in 
their  walls,  and  in  the  arrangement  of  their 
valves.  The  arteries  have  walls  endowed 
with  great  elasticity,  and  firmer  than  those 
of  the  veins ;  hence  the  blood  is  under  greater 
pressure  in  the  arteries  than  in  the  veins, 


304 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


The  aorta  (the  great  artery  within  the  trunk) 
has  three  valves  at  its  origin  from  the  left 
ventricle  of  the  heart,  arranged  so  as  to  hin 
der  the  blood  from  flowing  backwards  to  the 
heart  This  being  so,  muscular  pressure 
may  be  said,  rather  to  favor  the  flow  of  the 
Hlood  towards  the  capillaries  than  otherwise. 


Close  the  hands,  extend  the  arms  in  front  as  shown 
t>y  the  dotted  lines,  and  bring  the  hands  together 
behind  the  back ;  repeat  at  least  twenty  times. 

This,  however,  has  far  less  significance 
than  the  effect  that  muscular  pressure  has  on 
the  flow  of  the  blood  in  the  veins.  The 
walls  of  the  veins  being  softer,  and  having 
less  elasticity  than  those  of  the  arteries,  they, 
consequently,  exercise  but  little  pressure  on 
the  blood.  The  contracting  muscles,  in 
squeezing  the  veins,  impart  additional 
motion  to  the  blood.  Now,  there  are  pouch- 
like  valves  along  the  inside  of  the  vein- walls, 
arranged  in  such  a  way  that  they  prevent 
the  blood  from  flowing  backwards  to  the 
capillaries,  but  permit  it  to  flow  in  the 
direction  of  the  heart ;  consequently,  muscu 
lar  pressure  c[>n  the  veins  must  needs  drive 
the  blood  forwards  towards  the  heart.  Nor 
is  this  all. 

By  movements,  such  as  bending,  stretch 
ing,  etc.,  the  veins  are  alternately  shortened 
and  extended,  and  this  alternate  stretching 


of  them  acts  with  a  kind  of  sucking  force  on 
the  blood  within.  The  outer  wall  of  the 
veins  adheres  at  certain  places  (especially 
near  the  joints)  to  over-lying  tissues,  and  is 
raised  by  certain  motions,  so  that  the  diame 
ter  of  the  vessel  becomes  enlarged,  a  circum 
stance  which  also  contributes  to  suck,  as  it 
were,  the  blood  towards  the  heart. 

From  these  circumstances  it  is  evident  that 
muscular  exercise  greatly  influences  the  cir 
culation,  by  assisting  the  flow  of  the  venous 
blood  towards  the  heart.  In  proportion  as 
the  movements  are  comprehensive,  being 
applied  to  all  parts  of  the  body,  and  adapted 
to  its  strength,  their  effect  on  the  circulation 
is  more  powerful. 


Stand  erect,  with  arms  straight  at  the  sides  ;  raise 
and  lower  the  arms  as  shown  in  the  figure  ;  repeat  at 
least  twenty  times. 

But  it  is  also  possible  to  regulate  by  move 
ments  the  supply  of  blood  to  each  different 
organ,  so  as  to  produce  special  effects.  Thus, 
undue  affluence  of  blood  to  an  organ  where 
it  may  prove  dangerous  can  be  relieved  by 
means  of  appropriate  movements,  so  calcu 
lated  as  to  carry  the  blood  to  parts  where  it 
causes  no  harm. 


HOW  TO  STRENGTHEN  THE  MUSCLES. 


30$ 


This  shows  us  the  importance  oi  exercise 
for  the  preservation  of  health,  and  the 
necessity  of  a  rational  treatment  by  move 
ments  in  all  its  disturbances. 

From  the  great  influence  that  muscular 
action  has  on  the  circulation  comes  the  fact 
that  appropriate  movements  are  the  most 
efficient  curative  means  for  diseases  of  the 
heart. 

In  severe  cases  of  heart  disease  the  patient 
should  always  have  recourse  to  a  person 
qualified  to  give  medical  gymnastics,  who 
will  give  him  "  passive  "  movements  and 
such  "  active  "  movements  as  are  calculated 
to  draw  the  blood  towards  the  periphery  of 
the  body  without  throwing  any  strain  upon 
the  heart 


Hold  the  right  arm  out  horizontally,  palm  of  hand 
Upward ;  double  tbe  left  arm,  the  tips  of  the  fingers 
resting  on  the  shoulder  ;  then  stretch  out  the  left  arm, 
at  the  san>e  time  bringing  the  right  arm  to  the  position 
shown  by  the  dotted  lines  ;  repeat,  and  then  make  the 
movements  with  both  arms  simultaneously. 

The  want  of  food  announces  itself,  under 
normal  circumstances,  through  hunger  ;  in 
sufficient  nourishment  manifests  itself 
through  emaciation ;  and  no  one  can  live 
without  food.  These  are  well-known  facts. 
It  is  also  generally  known  that  the  food  must 
undergo  certain  changes  in  the  alimentary 

canal  before  it  becomes  fit  to  be  taken  up  in 
20 


the  blood  and  distributed  for  the  maintenance 
of  the  organism.  For  the  due  and  prompt 
production  of  these  changes  it  is  indispens 
able  that  the  digestive  organs  should  be  in  a 
strong  and  healthy  state.  And  this  depends 
in  great  measure  on  the  manner  in  which 
we  treat  them.  The  laws  of  life  are  impera 
tive,  and  will  exact  severe  retribution  if 
violated. 


Holding  the  arms  straight,  swing  them  with  a  rotary 
motion,  thrusting  them  forward  as  they  are  elevated 
and  backward  as  they  are  lowered,  bringing  them  to 
the  sides,  and  then  repeat. 

Bodily  exercise  is  an  indispensable  condi 
tion  for  securing  healthy  digestive  organs 
and  an  easy  digestion.  The  changes  which 
the  food  undergoes  in  the  alimentary  canaj 
are  partly  mechanical  and  partly  chemical , 
consequently,  both  mechanical  and  chemical 
forces  are  necessary  for  effecting  them.  The 
former  are  supplied  by  the  teeth  and  the 
muscular  parts  in  the  alimentary  canal,  the 
latter  by  the  alimentary  secretions — the 
saliva,  the  gastric  juice,  and  the  intestinal 
secretions.  The  muscles  in  the  alimentary 
canal,  with  the  exception  of  those  at  the  be 
ginning  and  the  end,  are  of  the  kind  that  are 
not  dependent  on  the  will  ("  involuntary 


306 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


muscles  "),  but  they  may  be  indirectly  acted 
upon  by  voluntary  movements. 

It  is  known  by  experience  that  strong  ab 
dominal  muscles  are  found  where  there  is 
good  digestion;  and  that,  on  the  contrary, 
weakness  in  these  muscles  is  accompanied 
by  weakness  in  the  digestion.  It  has  also 


Lift  the  hands  from  the  sides  to  the  shoulders,  then 
raise  the  arms  at  full  length  above  the  head,  and  also 
extend  them  horizontally,  as  shown  in  the  dotted  lines. 

been  established  that  movements  which  bring 
the  abdominal  muscles  to  contract  strongly, 
have  a  strengthening  influence  on  the  diges 
tive  organs.  This  is  in  some  measure  ex 
plained  by  the  fact  that  contractions  of  the 
muscles,  which  are  dependent  on  the  will 
("voluntary  muscles")  call  forth  sympathetic 
contractions  of  the  involuntary  muscles  (as, 
for  instance  in  the  eye-ball). 

Thus  it  is  evident  that  appropriate  bodily 
exercise  has  the  effect  of  developing  and 
preserving  strong  and  healthy  digestive 
organs.  Many  disturbances  in  the  diges 
tive  functions  would  be  prevented  if  this 
simple  and  natural  means  were  duly  em 
ployed.  Chronic  stomach  catarrh,  constipa 
tion,  hsemorrhoidal  complaints,  and  other 


abdominal  disturbances,  besides  many  othe* 
diseases  which  are  consequences  of  these; 
might  either  be  prevented  or  cured  by  a  due 
practice  of  appropriate  movements. 

By  means  of  respiration  through  the  lungs, 
oxygen  is  conveyed  from  the  air  to  the  blood, 
and  distributed  to  all  parts  of  the  body.  The 
oxygen  combines  itself  with  such  substances 
as  are  useless  or  injurious  to  the  body,  and 
these  "waste  products"  are  carried  with  the 
blood  to  the  lungs,  the  skin,  the  intestinal 
tube,  and  the  kidneys,  there  to  be  excreted 
and  removed  from  the  body. 

The  importance  of  a  powerful  respiration, 
by  means  of  which  plenty  of  oxygen  is 
taken  in  and  much  waste  matter  given  off, 
is  evident,  and  no  one  can  be  ignorant  of  the 
effect  that  exercise  has  in  increasing  respira 
tion  and  the  respiratory  power. 


Standing  erect,  with 
the  hands  on  the  hips, 
lower  the  body  as 
shown  in  the  figure, 
and  rise;  repeat  at 
least  fifteen  times,  but 
not  too  fast. 


Placing  the  hands  on  the 
hips,  right  leg  forward  and 
left  leg  slightly  bent,  bring 
the  body  into  the  position 
of  the  dotted  lines;  then 
placing  the  left  leg  forward, 
repeat  movements. 


Deep  and  calm  breathing  is  preferable  to 
rapid  and  superficial.  The  latter  way  of 
breathing  is  insufficient,  and  indicates  weak 
ness,  whereas  calm  and  deep  breathing  sup 
poses  powerfully  developed  respiratory  organs 


HOW  TO  STRENGTHEN  THE  MUSCLES. 


307 


During  and  after  exercise  respiration  is  both 
frequent  and  deep;  thus  a  greater  amount  of 
oxygen  is  taken  in,  and  waste  matter  (car 
bonic  acid,  etc.)  given  off. 

A  wide  and  mobile  chest  is  generally  a 
sign  of  strength  in  the  organs  of  respiration. 
That  bodily  exercise  develops  these  organs 
may  be  seen  in  strong  laborers,  seamen,  and 
soldiers,  and  still  more  in  those  who  make 
use  of  gymnastics  in  a  rational  manner. 
Contrast  with  these  the  narrow  and  little- 
movable  chest  of  those  who  lack  physical 
education,  and,  in  consequence  of  occupation 
or  deficient  energy  of  will,  are  deprived  of  the 

necessary  amount  of 
bodily  exercise. 


With  the  body  bent 
forward,  closed  bands  be 
tween  the  knees,  raise 
the  body  and  elevate  the 
hands  above  the  head, 
taking  care  to  keep  the 
arms  straight ;  repeat. 


Place  the  hands  on  the 
front  side  of  the  hips, 
bend  the  body  forward, 
and  then  rise  to  an  erect 
position ;  at  the  same 
time  throwing  the  head 
backward ;  repeat. 


Respiration  also  facilitates  the  circulation 
of  the  blood.  The  lungs  would  not,  if  left 
to  their  natural  volume,  fill  the  whole  cavity 
of  the  chest;  but  the  air  that  rushes  in 
through  the  air  tubes  expands  them  and 
keeps  them  close  to  the  inside  of  the  chest, 
which  is  widened  by  the  action  of  the  muscles 
concerned  in  inspiration.  In  consequence  of 


the  great  elasticity  of  the  lungs,  they  react 
against  the  pressure  of  the  air,  and  tend  to 
shrink  from  their  surroundings.  This  causes 
a  diminished  pressure  of  the  air  from  within 
the  lungs  on  the  heart  and  the  large  blood 
vessels  lying  within  the  chest,  outside  and 
between  the  lungs ;  this  again  acts  with  an 
attractive  or  sucking  force  on  the  bloo^ 
towards  the  heart. 


Steady  yourself  with  one  hand  on  a  chair ;  place  the 
other  hand  on  the  hip  and  swing  the  leg  as  shown  in 
the  figure ;  repeat,  and  then  swing  the  other  leg  in 
like  manner. 

Now,  it  is  true  that  this  sucking  force 
would  tend  to  retain  the  blood  in  the  arteries 
with  a  force  corresponding  to  that  which,  in 
the  veins,  sucks  the  blood  towards  the  heart, 
if  the  walls  and  the  arrangement  of  the 
valves  were  quite  alike  in  the  arteries  and 
veins.  But,  as  before  mentioned,  the  blood 
in  the  large  arteries  is  under  great  pres 
sure,  owing  to  the  high  elasticity  of  the 
walls  in  these  vessels,  whereas  the  pressure 
is  very  slight  in  the  veins,  their  walls  having 
but  little  elasticity.  Moreover,  the  walls  oi 
the  arteries  are  firm  and  resist  the  suction, 
whereas  those  of  the  veins  are  soft  and  yield 
to  it 

Finally,  the  three  semilunar  valves  between 
the  aorta  and  the  left  ventricle  (being  shut 


308 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


during  the  "diastole,"  or  widening  of  the 
heart),  preventing  any  backward  flow  of  the 
blood  in  the  arteries,  and  the  veins  being 
provided  with  valves  all  along  their  inside, 
which  open  in  the  direction  towards  the 
heart,  there  is  no  hindrance  to  the  flow  of 
the  blood  forwards  in  this  direction.  The 
consequence  of  all  this  is  that  the  diminished 
pressure  en  the  heart  and  the  large  vein- 
trunks  within  the  chest  (above  referred  to) 
promotes  the  circulation  in  the  veins  towards 
the  heart,  but  has  little  influence  on  the  cir 
culation  in  the  arteries. 


Steady  yourself  with  one  hand  on  a  chair,  place  the 
other  hand  on  the  hip,  and  swing  the  leg  forward  and 
backward  -  repeat,  and  then  swing  the  other  leg  in  like 
manner. 

To  sum  up  shortly,  exercise  develops 
strong  respiratory  organs,  by  the  energetic 
action  of  which  circulation  is  facilitated,  and 
also  a  richer  exchange  between  the  air  and 
the  blood  induced.  Just  as  a  strong  current 
of  air  keeps  up  a  brisk  fire — supposing  there 
be  sufficient  provision  of  fuel — -just  so  a  power 
ful  respiration  stimulates  the  functions  of  the 
organs,  and  thus  accelerates  the  process  of 
renewal  and  exchange  of  material  in  all 
parts  of  the  body,  supposing  of  course,  that 
there  be  at  the  same  time  a  good  supply  of 
food  stuns. 

By  means  of  its  circulation,  the  blood  is 


distributed  to  every  part  of  the  body,  thus 
affording  the  opportunity  for  the  various 
glands  to  secrete  out  of  it  the  fluids  ("secre 
tions")  necessary  to  digestion  and  other  pur 
poses.  The  blood  also  takes  up  the  waste 


Stretch  the  body  forward,  placing  the  hands  on  .- 
chair ;  then  straighten  the  arms  and  raise  the  body 
This  must  not  be  repeated  so  many  times  as  to  render 
the  muscles  sore  and  stiff. 

matters  from  the  tissues  and  throws  them  ofl 
through  the  agency  of  the  lungs,  the  skins 
the  kidneys,  aud  the  intestinal  tube  (the 
bowel).  The  rapid  and  complete  throwing 
off  of  the  waste  matters  is  not  less  important 
for  the  preservation  of  the  body  than  an 
abundant  supply  of  appropriate  food  stuffs. 


This  figure  shows  the  position  of  the  body  after  it  i. 
raised  from  the  chair  according  to  directions  accom 
panying  preceding  figure ;  do  not  make  the  movement 
rapidly,  as  this  will  produce  exhaustion. 

Muscular  exercise  increases  the  circulation 
and  the  pressure  of  the  blood  within  the 
very  small  arteries,  which  causes  an  increased 
transudation  of  nutritive  material  to  fill  the 
interspaces  of  surrounding  textures ;  whereat 
it  diminishes  the  pressure  of  the  blood  - 


HOW  TO  STRENGTHEN  THE  MUSCLES. 


the  very  small  veins,  thus  facilitating  the 
exchange  of  matters  between  the  blood  and 
the  fluid  contents  of  the  textural  interspaces. 

An  accelerated  circulation  in  the  veins 
facilitates  the  absorption  of  the  waste  mat 
ters,  and  also  causes  the  absorption  from  the 
alimentary  canal  of  a  greater  quantity  of 
nutritive  material,  so  as  to  preserve  the 
normal  composition  of  the  blood. 

Now,  it  being  a  proved  fact  that  appro 
priate  exercise  induces  this  accelerated  cir 
culation,  this  rapid  renewal  of  the  tissues,  it 
follows,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  such  exer 
cise  is  indispensable  to  health.  For,  let  me 
repeat  it,  a  rapid  and  normal  renewal  of  the 
material  in  the  body  is  health.  Just  as  tinder 
ordinary  circumstances  the  merchant's  profit 
is  great  in  proportion  as  business  is  brisk  ; 
such  is  also  the  case  with  the  human  organ 
ism  ;  it  gains  in  health  and  strength  by  a 
rapid  and  duly  balanced  exchange  of  mate 
rial,  and  we  have  seen  that  bodily  exercise 
facilitates  both  the  renewal  of  the  tissues  and 
the  throwing  off  of  the  refuse. 


With  arms  bent,  hold  the  wand  behind  the  back  as 
shown  by  the  figure ;  this  throws  the  chest  forward ; 
then  bend  and  straighten  the  legs  alternately. 

The  idea  that  exercise  must  have  some  effect 
on  the  organs  of  movement  is  so  apparent 
that  one  is  apt  to  draw  inferences  at  a  glance 
from  the  condition  of  these  organs,  not  only 


as  to  the  physical  power  of  the  individual, 
but  as  to  his  state  of  health  as  well. 

The  very  fact  that  the  organs  of  movement 
form  such  a  preponderating  portion  com' 
pared  to  other  organs — their  weight  being 
about  nine-tenths  of  the  whole — suggests  at 
once  that  a  powerful  development  of  those 
organs  must  have  a  great  influence  on  th6 
organism  as  a  whole. 


Thi<*  is  an  exercise  to  strengthen  the  muscles  of  th« 
wrists  and  arms,  and  consists  in  holding  the  dumb 
bells  out  and  bending  the  wrist  each  way  as  far  as 
possible. 

Prolonged  action  tires  the  muscle,  the 
weariness  resulting  from  a  waste  within  its 
substance,  a  destruction  of  the  contracting 
muscular  elements.  But  the  fatigue  disap 
pears  after  due  rest,  in  consequence  of  the 
used-up  material  having  been  removed 
Now,  movements  do  not  diminish  the  volume 
of  the  muscle  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  increase 
it,  if  applied  within  due  limits.  This  shows 
that  new  substances  have  made  good  the 
used-up  material,  and  this  in  increased  mea, 
sure,  thus  corroborating  what  has  been  de 
monstrated  elsewhere  as  to  muscular  exercise 
accelerating  circulation  and  increasing  the 
absorption  of  nutritive  material,  the  demand 
for  this  manifesting  itself  in  an  increased 
appetite. 


3io 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


Muscular  action,  as  well  as  the  increased 
beat  accompanying  it,  are  forces  developed  at 
the  expense  of  the  nutritive  material;  but 
these  are  the  very  things  that  cause  the  mus 
cles  to  gain  in  bulk  and  strength,  supposing 
they  be  provided  with  sufficient  nutritive 
material,  and  that  there  be  due  intervals  of 
rest;  otherwise  the  muscles  would  not  be 
able  to  absorb  the  necessary  nutriment,  and 
consequently  would 
begin  to  waste  instead. 


Hold  the  i  bells  high 
above  the  head,  then 
lower  and  elevate  the 
arms  at  least  a  dozen 
times. 


With  arms  extended  side- 
wise,  palms  downward, 
lower  the  bells  to  the  sides 
and  raise  them ;  repeat, 
then  strike  the  bells  together 
in  front  and  behind  the 
back. 


Appropriate  exercise  is  not  only  necessary 
*br  the  normal  development  and  the  rapid 
renewal  of  the  muscles,  but  also  for  the 
strengthening  of  the  passive  organs  of  move 
ment — the  bones  and  the  ligaments  that  keep 
these  together  in  the  joints* 

The  importance  of  strong  and  healthy 
organs  of  movement  for  the  duties  of  life  in 
general,  but  more  especially  for  the  preserva 
tion  and  restoration  of  health,  is  evident 
from  the  fact  that  it  is  possible  to  influence, 
through  action  of  the  muscles,  not  only  the 
regenerative  process  of  the  organism  as  a 
Whole,  but,  any  special  part  of  the  body. 


But  the  development  of  the  organs  of 
movement  may  be  carried  beyond  the  limits 
for  real  health,  as  health  has  for  its  basis  a 
certain  harmony  and  equilibrium  between 
the  different  organs  that  constitute  the 
organism ;  and  it  is  an  undeniable  physiologi 
cal  fact  that  excess  in  the  development  04 
one  organ  brings  about  weakness  in  another, 
to  the  detriment  of  health  (as  is  often  seen 
in  acrobats  and  athletes).  But  so  it  is  with 
all  good  things  that  are  used  in  excess ;  and 
yet  this  does  not  deprive  them  of  their 
qualities  of  goodness  and  usefulness  when 
used  with  sense  and  moderation. 

For  more  than  two  thousand  years  the 
dumb  bell  has  been  in  use  as  a  means  of 


This  figure  shows  the  rotary  motion  with  dumb  bells. 
Bend  the  body  forward,  resting  the  weight  on  one  foot, 
then  on  the  other,  swinging  the  bells  low  as  voa 
change  from  one  foot  to  the  other. 

physical  culture.  It  was  highly  prized  by 
the  Greeks.  Many  advantages  are  justly 
claimed  in  its  behalf.  If  used  in  private,  it 
occupies  little  space  either  at  rest  or  in  action.' 
For  the  same  reason  it  is  excellent  in  the 
training  of  large  classes.  Although  not  to 
be  compared  with  the  New  Gymnastic  Ring-, 


HOW  TO  STRENGTHEN  THE  MUSCLES. 


With  one  leg  bent  touch  the  floor  with  the  bells,  the 
knee  of  the  bent  leg  coming  between  the  arms  ;  then 
change  the  position  as  shown  in  the  figure ;  repeat 
fifteen  times. 

soon  to  be  described,  the  Dumb  Bell  deserves 
its  great  popularity. 

Among  the  Greeks  it  had  a  peculiar 
shape,  and  in  this  respect  has  undergone 
many  changes,  of  which  something  will  be 
said  hereafter.  Its  present  shape  is  well 
known.  A  practical  suggestion  upon  this 
point  may  not  be  amiss.  The  handle  should 
be  at  least  half  an  inch  longer  than  the 
width  of  the  hand,  of  such  size  as  can  be 
easily  grasped,  with  a  slight  swell  in  the 
middle.  The  manufacturer  must  not  forget 
there  is  a  wide  difference  between  the  hand 
of  a  little  girl  and  that  of  large  man. 


A  girl's  gymnastic  dress  should  be  loose  throughout 
and  gathered  at  the  waist.  Stand  erect  with  hands  on 
the  hips  and  light  weight  on  the  head ;  then  rise  on 
the  toes  and  fall. 


Grasp  the  wand,  about  three  feet  in  length,  with 
both  hands,  then  raise  the  wand  as  high  as  the  head, 
and  lower  to  the  above  position ;  repeat  twenty  times. 

Heretofore  dumb  bells  have  been  made 
of  metals.  The  weight  in  this  country  has 
usually  been  considerable.  The  general 
policy  at  present  is  to  employ  those  as  heavy 
as  the  health  seeker  can  put  up  This  is 
wrong.  In  the  great  German  Gymnastic 
Institutes  dumb  bells  were  formerly  em 
ployed  weighing  from  fifty  to  one  hundred 
pounds,  but  now  distinguished  authorities 
condemn  such  weights  and  advocate  those 
weighing  from  one  to  five  pounds.  Those 
weighing  two  pounds  are  heavy  enough  for 
any  man,  and  ordinary  use. 

The  weight  of  the  dumb  bell  turns  entirely 
on  the  manner  in  which  it  is  used.  If  only 
lifted  over  the  head,  one  or  two  pounds 
would  be  absurdly  light;  but  if  used  as  they 
should  be,  then  one  weighing  ten  pounds  is 
beyond  the  strength  of  the  strongest. 

A  just  statement  of  the  issue  is  this :  if 
you  only  lift  the  dumb  bell  from  the  floor, 
put  it  up,  and  then  put  it  down  again,  of 
course  it  should  be  heavy,  or  there  is  no 
exercise ;  but  if  you  would  use  it  in  a  great 
variety  of  ways,  assuming  a  hundred  grace 
ful  attitudes,  and  bringing  the  muscles  into 
use  in  every  direction,  requiring  skill,  the 
bell  must  be  light. 


312 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


There  need  be  no  controversy  between  the 
light  weight  and  the  heavy  weight  party  on 
this  point.  We  of  the  light  weight  party 
agree  that  if  the  bell  is  to  be  used  as  the 
heavy  weight  party  uses  it,  it  must  be  heavy ; 
but  if  as  we  use  it,  then  it  must  be  light. 
If  they  of  the  heavy  weight  party  think  not, 
o?e  only  ask  them  to  try  it. 


Hold  the  wand  as  in  the  figure,  one  arm  at  the  side, 
then  rotate  the  wand  over  the  head,  bringing  the  other 
arm  to  the  side ;  repeat  twenty  times. 

The  only  question  which  remains  is  that 
which  lies  between  all  heavy  and  light 
gymnastics,  viz:  whether  strength  or  flexi 
bility  is  to  be  preferred.  Without  entering 
upon  a  discussion  of  the  physiological  prin 
ciples  which  underlie  this  subject,  we  will 
simply  say  that  we  prefer  the  latter.  Our 
light  weight  athletes  are,  physiologically  con 
sidered,  greatly  superior  to  heavy  lifters. 

But  here  we  ought  to  say  that  no  man  can 
be  flexible  without  a  good  degree  of  strength. 
It  is  not  however,  that  kind  of  strength  in 
volved  in  great  lifting.  One  of  the  finest 
gymnasts  in  the  country  told  us  that  in 
several  attempts  to  lift  five  hundred  pounds 
he  failed,  and  that  he  should  never  try  it 
again.  This  same  gymnast  owns  a  fine 
horse.  Ask  him  to  lend  that  horse  to  draw 
before  a  cart  and  he  will  refuse,  because  such 


labor  would  make  the  animal  stiff,  and  unfit 
him  for  light,  graceful  movements  before  the 
carriage. 

The  same  physiological  law  holds  true  of 
man;  lifting  great  weights  affects  him  as 
drawing  heavy  loads  affects  the  horse.  So 
far  from  man's  body  being  an  exception  to 
this  law,  it  bears  with  peculiar  force  upon 
him.  Moving  great  weights  through  small 
spaces,  produces  a  slow,  inelastic,  inflexible 
man.  No  matter  how  flexible  a  young  man 
may  be,  let  him  join  a  circus  company,  and 
lift  the  cannon  twice  a  day,  for  two  or  three 
years,  and  he  will  become  as  inflexible  as  a 
cart  horse.  No  matter  how  elastic  the  colt 
is  when  first  harnessed  to  the  cart,  he  will 
soon  become  so  inelastic  that  he  is  unfi*-  to 
serve  before  the  carriage. 


Hold  the  wand  and  one  arm  horizontally,  with  other 
arm  bent,  then  bend  the  straight  arm  and  straighten 
the  bent ;  loosen  the  fingers  and  clasp  the  wand  again 
with  each  movement. 

Men,  women  and  children  should  be  strong, 
but  it  should  be  the  strength  of  grace,  flexi 
bility,  agility  and  endurance ;  it  should  not 
be  the  strength  of  a  great  lifter.  We  alluded 
to  the  gymnastics  of  the  circus.  Permit  us  to 
call  special  attention  to  three  features — to  the 
man  who  lifts  the  cannon,  to  the  india-rubbet 
man,  and  to  the  general  performer. 


HOW  TO  STRENGTHEN  THE  MUSCLES. 


313 


The  lifter  and  the  india-rubber  man  con 
stitute  the  two  mischievous  extremes.  It 
is  impossible  that  in  either  there  should  be 
the  highest  physiological  conditions ;  but  in 
persons  who  are  general  performers,  is  found 
the  model  gymnast.  They  can  neither  lift 
great  weights  nor  tie  themselves  into  knots, 
but  they  occupy  a  point  between  these  two 
extremes.  They  possess  both  strength  and 
flexibility,  and  resemble  fine  active,  agile, 
vigorous  carriage  horses,  which  occupy  a 
point  between  the  slow  cart  horse  and  long- 
legged,  loose-jointed  animal. 

With  heavy  dumb  bells  the  extent  of 
motions  is  very  slight,  and  of  course  the 
range  and  freedom  of  action  will  be  cor 
respondingly  so.  This  is  a  point  of  great 
importance.  The  limbs,  and  indeed  the 


Holding  the  wand  high  above  the  head,  lower  it  to 
the  breast,  then  elevate  it,  then  swing  it  over  the  head 
backward,  changing  the  hands  so  as  to  retain  the  hold. 

entire  body,  should  have  the  widest  and 
freest  range  of  motion.  It  is  only  thus  that 
our  performances  in  business  or  pleasures  of 
life  become  most  effective.  A  complete, 
equable  circulation  of  the  blood  is  thereby 
most  perfectly  secured.  And  this,  we  may 
remark,  is  in  one  aspect  the  physiological 
purpose  of  all  exercise.  The  race  horse  has 


a  much  more  vigorous  circulation  than  the 
cart  horse.  It  is  a  fact  not  unfamiliar  with 
horsemen,  that  when  a  horse  is  transferred 
from  slow,  heavy  work  to  the  carriage,  the 
surface  veins  about  the  neck  and  legs  begin 
at  once  to  enlarge;  when  the  change  is  made 
from  the  carriage  to  the  cart,  the  reverse  is 
the  result. 


Hold  the  wand  on  the  shoulders  as  seen  in  the  figure ; 
then  straighten  the  right  arm,  at  the  same  time  drawing 
in  and  bending  the  left ;  repeat. 

And  when  we  consider  that  the  principal 
object  of  all  physical  training  is  an  elastic, 
vigorous  condition  of  the  nervous  system, 
the  superiority  of  light  gymnastics  becomes 
still  more  obvious.  The  nervous  system  is 
the  fundamental  fact  of  our  earthly  life. 
All  other  parts  of  the  organism  exist  and 
work  for  it.  It  controls  all  and  is  the  seat 
of  pain  and  pleasure. 

The  impressions  upon  the  stomach,  for 
example,  resulting  in  a  better  or  worse  di 
gestion,  must  be  made  through  the  nerves. 
This  supreme  control  of  the  nervous  system 
is  forcibly  illustrated  in  the  change  made  by 
joyful  or  sad  tidings. 

The  overdue  ship  is  believed  to  have  gone 
down  with  her  valuable,  uninsured  cargo. 
Her  owner  paces  the  wharf,  sallow  and  wan ; 
appetite  and  digestion  gone.  She  heaves  in 
sight!  She  lies  at  the  wharf !  The  happy 


3M- 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


man  goes  aboard,  hears  all  is  safe,  and, 
taking  the  officers  to  a  hotel,  devours  with 
them  a  dozen  monstrous  compounds,  with 
the  keenest  appetite,  and  without  a  subse 
quent  pang. 

Could  we  have  an  unbroken  succession  of 
good  news,  we  should  all  have  good  diges 
tion  without  a  gymnasium.  But  in  a  world 


Placing  the  wand  on  the  shoulders  as  seen  in  the 
figure,  bring  the  arms  to  the  position  shown  in  the 
dotted  lines ;  repeat  a  number  of  times. 

of  vexation  and  disappointment^  we  are 
driven  to  the  necessity  of  muscle  culture, 
and  other  hygienic  expedients,  to  give  the 
nervous  system  that  support  and  vitality, 
which  our  fitful  surroundings  deny. 

If  we  would  make  our  muscle  training 
contributive  in  the  highest  degree  to  the 
healthful  elasticity  of  our  nerves,  the  exer 
cises  must  be  such,  as  will  bring  into  varied 
combinations  and  play  all  our  muscles  and 
;ierves.  Those  exercises  which  require  great 
accuracy,  skill  and  dash,  are  just  those  which 
secure  this  happy  and  complete  intermarriage 
of  nerve  and  muscle.  If  any  one  doubts  that 
boxing  and  small  sword  will  do  more  to  give 
elasticity  and  tone  to  the  nervous  system,  than 
lifting  kegs  of  nails,  then  we  will  give  him 
over  to  the  heavy  lifters. 

Another  point  we  take  the  liberty  to  urge. 
Without  accuracy  in  the  performance  of  the 


feats,  the  interest  must  be  transient.  This 
principle  is  strikingly  exemplified  in  mili 
tary  training.  Those  who  have  studied  our 
infantry  drill,  have  been  struck  with  its  sim 
plicity,  and  have  wondered  that  men  could 
go  through  with  its  details  every  day  foi 
years,  without  disgust.  If  the  drill  mastei 
permit  carelessness,  then,  authority  alone 
can  force  the  men  through  the  evolutions; 
but  if  he  enforce  the  greatest  precision,  they 
return  to  their  task  every  morning,  for 
twenty  years,  with  fresh  and  increasing 
interest 

What  precision,  permit  me  to  ask,  is  pos 
sible  in  "putting  up"  a  heavy  dumb-bell ' 
But  in  the  new  dumb-bell  exercise,  there  is 
opportunity  and  necessity  for  all  the  accur 
acy  and  skill  which  are  found  in  the  most 
elaborate  military  drills. 


Hold  the  wand  behind  the  back  as  seen  in  the  figure, 
then  bring  the  arms  to  the  position  shown  by  the  dotted 
lines  ;  repeat  and  alternate. 

But,  it  is  said,  if  you  use  bells  weighing 
only  two  pounds,  you  must  work  an  hour  to 
reach  the  exercise  which  the  heavy  ones 
would  furnish  in  five  minutes.  I  need  not 
inform  those  who  have  practiced  the  new 
series  with  the  light  bells,  that  this  objection 
is  made  in  ignorance.  If  you  simply  "put 
up"  the  light  bell,  it  is  true,  but  if  you  use 
it  as  herein  described  and  illustrated,  it  v~ 


HOW  TO  STRENGTHEN  THE  MUSCLES 


315 


not  true.  On  the  contrary,  in  less  than  five 
minutes,  legs,  hips,  back,  arms,  shoulders, 
neck,  lungs  and  heart,  will  each  and  all  make 
the  most  emphatic  remonstrance  against 
even  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  practice  of  such 
feats. 

Speaking  in  a  general  way,  these  exercises 
in  which  the  lungs  and  heart  are  made  to 
go  at  a  vigorous  pace,  are  to  be  ranked  among 
the  most  useful.  The  "  double-quick  "  of  the 
soldier  contributes  more  in  five  minutes  to 
his  digestion  and  endurance,  than  the  ordinary 
drill  in  two  hours. 

We  have  said  an  elastic  tone  of  the  nervous 
system  is  the  physiological  purpose  of  all 
physical  training.  If  one  may  be  allowed 


Hold  the  wan  as  shown  in  the  figure,  the  rigjit  arm 
elevated  and  the  left  crossing  the  chest ;  then  by  swinging 
raise  the  left  arm  and  bring  the  right  across  the  chest; 
repeat. 

such  an  analysis,  we  would  add  that  we  ex 
ercise  our  muscles  to  invigorate  the  thoracic 
and  abdominal  viscera.  These  in  their  turn 
support  and  invigorate  the  nervous  system. 
All  exercises  which  operate  more  directly 
upon  these  internal  organs — as  for  example, 
laughing,  deep  breathing  and  running,  con 
tribute  most  effectively  to  the  stamina  of  the 


brain  and  nerves.  It  is  only  this  mania  for 
monstrous  arms  and  shoulders  that  could 
have  misled  the  intelligent  gymnast  on  this 
point. 

But  finally,  it  is  said,  you  certainly  cannot 
deny  that  rapid  motions  with  great  sweep, 
exhaust  more  than  slow  motions  through 
limited  spaces.  A  great  lifter  said  to  me  one 


Place  the  feet  close  together,  hold  the  body  erect,  clasp 
the  wand  with  both  hands  and  swing  it  to  right  and  left, 
keeping  the  arms  straight. 

day,  "Do  you  pretend  to  deny  that  a  loco 
motive  with  a  light  train,  flying  at  the  rate 
of  forty  miles  an  hour,  consumes  more  fuel 
than  one  with  a  heavy  train,  moving  at  the 
rate  of  five  miles  ?  "  We  did  not  attempt  to 
deny  it.  "Well,  then,"  he  added  with  an  air 
of  triumph,  "what  have  you  to  say  now 
about  these  great  sweeping  feats  with  your 
light  dumb  bells,  as  compared  with  the  slow 
putting  up  of  heavy  ones  ?  " 

We  replied  by  asking  him  another  ques 
tion.  "  Do  you  pretend  to  deny  that  when 
you  drive  your  horse  ten  miles  within  an 
hour,  before  a  light  carriage,  he  is  more  ex 
hausted  than  by  drawing  a  load  two  miles  an 
hour?"  "That's  my  doctrine  exactly,"  he 
said.  Then  we  asked,  "  Why  don't  you 
always  drive  two  miles  an  hour?"  "But 
my  patients  would  all  die,"  replied  my 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


friend.  We  did  not  say  aloud  that  the  dan 
ger  to  his  patients  might  be  less  than  he 
imagined ;  but  suggested,  that  nearly  every 
man  as  well  as  every  horse,  had  duties  in 
this  life  which  involved  the  necessity  of 
rapid  and  vigorous  motions — that  were  this 
slow  movement  generally  adopted,  every 
phase  of  human  life  would  be  stripped  of 
progress,  success  and  glory. 

As  our  artificial  training  is  designed  to  fit 
us  for  the  more  successful  performance  of 
the  business  of  life,  we  suggest  that  the 
training  should  be,  in  character,  somewhat 


tion  of  the  dray  horse,  who  is  pushed  before 
the  light  carriage  at  a  high  speed. 

Perhaps  it  is  not  improper  to  add,  that  all 
this  talk  about  expenditure  of  vitality  is  full 
of  sophistry.  Teachers  and  writers  speak  of 
our  stock  of  vitality,  as  if  it  were  a  vault  of 
gold,  upon  which  you  cannot  draw  without 
lessening  the  quantity.  Whereas,  it  is  rather 
like  the  mind  or  heart  enlarging  by  action, 
gaining  by  expenditure. 

When  Daniel  Boone  was  living  alone  in 
Kentucky,  his  intellectual  exercises  were 
doubtless  of  the  quiet,  slow,  heavy  character. 


From  the  above  figure  the  reader  will  form  a  good  idea  of  the  general  move 
ments  in  the  use  of  Indian  clubs.  He  can  vary  the  movements  so  as  to  give  ex 
ercise  to  all  the  muscles  of  the  arms,  shoulders,  chest,  and  abdomen.  Clubs 
weighing  two  pounds  apiece  are  heavy  enough  for  ordinary  exercise. 


assimilated  to  those  duties.  If  you  would 
train  a  horse  for  the  carriage,  you  would  not 
prepare  him  by  driving  at  a  slow  pace  before 
a  heavy  load.  If  you  did,  the  first  fast  drive 
would  go  hard  with  him. 

Just  so  with  a  man.  If  he  is  to  lift  hogs 
heads  of  sugar,  or  kegs  of  nails,  as  a  business, 
he  may  be  trained  by  heavy  lifting ;  but  if 
his  business  requires  the  average  velocity 
and  free  motions  of  human  occupations,  then 
upon  the  basis  of  his  heavy,  slow  training,  he 
will  find  himself  in  actual  life,  in  the  condi- 


Other  white  men  joined  him.  Under  the 
social  stimulus,  his  thinking  became  more 
sprightly.  Suppose  that  in  time  he  had 
come  to  write  vigorously,  and  to  speak  in 
the  most  eloquent,  brilliant  manner,  does  any 
one  imagine  that  he  would  have  lost  in 
mental  vigor  and  dash  by  the  process? 
Would  not  the  brain,  which  had  only  slow 
exercise  in  his  isolated  life,  have  become  bold, 
brilliant  and  dashing,  by  bold,  brilliant  and 
dashing  efforts?  No  one  will  deny  that  this 
would  have  been  the  result 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


The  Famous  German  Pan-Gymnastikon,  or  Swing 

and  Stirrups. 


EAL/TH  is  the  most  precious  of 
earthly  possessions.  He  who  has  it, 
has  all  things ;  he  who  lacks  it  has 
nothing.  Men  seek  with  vehement  earnest 
ness,  external  things.  How  few  recognize 
the  value  of  health.  Men  seem  to  care  as 
little  for  their  bodies  as  the  snail  for  its  shell. 
The  world  is  full  of  misery.  Physical  de 
formity  and  suffering  are  increasing  with 
fearful  rapidity.  Thank  God,  the  great 
physiological  revolution  which  is  to  restore 
man  to  his  pristine  condition  has  been  in 
augurated. 

As  in  the  prosecution  of  all  other  reforms, 
we  are  met  on  every  hand  by  prejudice.  We 
are  told  that  man  was  not  designed  to  enjoy 
uninterrupted  health;  that  in  this  life  he 
must  be  the  victim  of  disease  and  suffering ; 
that  nature  will  give  all  needed  superin 
tendence  to  the  body.  True,  they  say,  it  is 
possible  to  ward  off  danger,  but  quite  chi 
merical  to  undertake  the  prevention  of  dis 
ease  by  a  development  of  the  powers  within. 
But  the  physiological  reformer  of  the  pres 
ent  hour  affirms  that  the  physical  organism 
is  susceptible  of  indefinite  improvement; 
that  it  can  be  made,  by  certain  hygienic 
processes,  so  vigorous  and  resistant,  that 
amid  diseases  and  dangers  it  may  pass 
through  the  fire  unscathed. 

How  shall  such  invigoration  of  our  bodies 
be  secured?  So  far  as  the  answer  can  be 
given  in  one  word,  it  is  gymnastics.  In  the 
animal  body,  exercise  is  the  principal  law  of 
development.  By  gymnastics,  we  mean  a 
system  of  exercises  which  the  greatest  wis 


dom  and  largest  experience  have  devised,  as 
best  adapted  to  the  complete  development  of 
the  physical  man.  Ideler  was  the  first  to 
comprehend  the  principles  of  gymnastics, 
and  their  application  to  the  training  of  the 
body.  He  saw  their  infinite  worth  in  the 
education  of  youth;  in  the  preservation  of 
the  health  of  adults;  and  in  the  cure  of 
many  diseases. 


FIGURE   1. 

Gymnastics  are  valuable  to  all  persons, 
but  especially  to  clerks,  students,  sedentary 
artisans,  and  still  more  particularly,  to  those 
who  in  addition  to  sedentary  habits,  perform 
exhaustive  intellectual  labor.  With  the  lat 
ter  class,  suffering  from  indigestion  and 
nervous  irritability,  nothing  but  a  wise  sys 
tem  of  gymnastic  training  can  prevent  the 

3*7 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


early  failuie  of  the  powers  of  life.  We  believe 
that  to  sucli  persons  this  helpful  work,  which 
tells  how  to  be  healthy  and  strong,  will 
come  as  a  most  welcome  friend.  We  believe 
that  it  may  assist  them  in  returning  to  health 
and  nature,  Do  not,  friends,  we  implore 
you,  refuse  its  kind  offices  by  such  pleas  as 
"want  of  time,"  the  "great  difficulty  of  the 
feats,"  "age,"  "rigidity  of  limbs,"  or  "want 
of  strength;"  for  if  these  excuses  are  well 
founded  in  your  case,  the  exercises  described 
in  this  work,  will  prove  to  you  of  great 
value. 


in  the  gymnastic  field,  and  as  most  admir 
ably  adapted  to  the  wants  of  those  who  can 
not  avail  themselves  of  the  advantages  of  a 
gymnastic  institution.  To  all  such  it  is  a 
God-send. 

It  is  comparatively  easy  to  devise  gym 
nastic  exercises  which  shall  interest  a  social 
class,  enlivened  by  music.  But  what  shall 
those  do,  who,  finding  it  inconvenient  or 
disagreeable  to  visit  the  gymnasium,  would 
cultivate  muscle  and  vigor  at  home?  In 
the  absence  of  social  stimulus  and  music, 
the  exercises  themselves  must  possess  pecu- 


X 


N<^ 


FIGURE  2. 


It  is  our  purpose  to  present  the  uses  of  the 
Pan-gymnastikon,  so  called  because  it  poss 
esses  the  advantages  of  all  other  gymnastic 
apparatus.  We  would  not  underrate  the 
value  of  other  apparatus  and  modes  of  ex 
ercise.  We  offer  the  Pan-gymnastikon,  not 
as  a  full  response  to  the  public  demand,  but 
as  the  most  complete  "  multuin  in  parvo  " 


FIGURE  3. 

liar  fascination.  If,  in  addition,  they  bring 
every  part  of  the  body  into  varied  action, 
giving  the  left  arm,  shoulder — the  entire 
left  half  of  the  body  as  much  and  as  varied 
exercise  as  the  right,  we  should  have  the 
model  home  gymnastics. 

The  Pan-gymnastikon  meets  these  de 
mands  more  successfully  than  any  other  ap* 
paratus  yet  devised.  While  the  first  exer^ 
cises  of  the  first  series  are  simple  enough  for 


GERMAN  PAN-G^MNASTIKON,  OR  SWING  AND  STIRRUPS. 


children,  the  last  exercises  of  trie  last  series 
are  beyond  the  reach  of  all  except  those 
who  have  favorable  composition,  and  are 
very  much  in  earnest.  For  clergymen, 
ladies  and  many  others,  who  would  carry  on 
the  work  at  home,  this  invention  is  the  most 
Complete  means  imaginable. 


FIGURE  4. 

Description  of  the  Pan -gymnast ikon. 

Two  large  hand  rings  suspended  from  the 
ceiling  by  ropes,  which,  running  through 
padded  hooks,  are  carried  to  the  walls.  Two 
other  ropes  extend  from  the  walls  directly  to 
the  hand  rings.  A  strap  with  a  stirrup  is 
placed  in  either  hand  ring.  By  a  simple  ar 
rangement  on  the  wall,  the  hand-rings  are 
j'.rawn  as  high  as  the  performer  can  reach,  or 
let  down  within  a  foot  of  the  floor ;  or  at 
?.ny  altitude  they  can  be  drawn  apart  to  any 
distance.  The  distance  between  the  stir- 
nips  and  rings  can  be  likewise  varied. 

The  usefulness  of  the  Pan-gymnastikon 
depends  upon  the  facility  with  which  these 
changes  can  be  made.  The  rings  must  be 
raised,  let  down,  drawn  apart,  the  stirrup 
straps  changed,  or  removed  altogether  from 
Hie  rings,  each  and  all  with  a  single  motion 


of  the  hand,  and  in  a  moment  There  ai» 
various  simple  mechanical  contrivances  by 
which  these  multifarious  changes  can  be 
made.  An  ingenious  mechanic  can  scarcely 
be  at  fault.  We  will  suggest  that  in  splicing 
the  ropes  into  the  rings,  the  splice  should  be 
long  and  drawn  close ;  else  giving  way,  an 
unpleasant  surprise  may  occur.  The  ropes 
should  run  through  strong,  padded  hooks  at 
the  ceiling,  which  are  fastened  on  the  uppei 
side  of  the  timber  with  thick  nuts.  The 
fastenings  on  the  wall  must  be  made  secure. 

The  ropes  with  which  the  rings  are  sepa 
rated,  should  be  armed  with  wrought-iron 
snap-hooks,  which  can  be  caught  into 
wrought-iron  rings  which  have  been  firmly 
lashed  into  the  suspension  rope  at  the  point 
where  it  connects  with  the  hand  ring. 

The  stirrup  straps  must  be  of  very  strong 
white  leather,  with  edges  so  rounded  that 
the  pants  will  not  be  worn.  In  shortening 
the  straps,  a  buckle  should  not  be  used,  for4 


FIGURE  5. 


in  removing  the  straps  from  the  hand  rings, 
much  time  would  thereby  be  lost ;  nor  should 
a  simple  hook  be  employed,  as  the  leather  is 
liable  to  give  way,  and  the  hook  to  slip  out. 
A  brass  H,  with  one  side  sewed  into  the  end 
of  the  strap  doubled,  and  the  other  slipped 
through  slits  in  the  body  of  the  strap,  is  a 
perfect  thing.  With  this  simple  contrivance, 
the  strap  can  be  altered  or  taken  out  alto 


320 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


gether  in  a  second,  and  can  never  give  way. 
The  stirrups  should  be  very  strong,  with  ser 
rated  bottoms,  and  fastened  into  the  ends  of 
the  straps  with  strong  sewing  and  copper 
rivets. 

The  Pan-gymnastikon  cannot  be  put  up 
in  an  ordinary  gymnasium ;  the  ceiling  is 
too  high.  The  best  height  for  the  ceiling 


FIGURE  6. 

hooks  is  twelve  feet;  a  ceiling  as  low  as 
eight  feet  will  do.  The  apparatus  can  be 
used,  however,  in  a  gymnasium,  or  in  an 
open  yard,  by  the  erection  of  a  simple  frame 
work.  If  suspended  in  an  ordinary  gymna 
sium,  from  a  ceiling  eighteen  or  twenty  feet 
high,  a  large  number  of  the  most  valuable 
exercises  cannot  be  performed  advantage 
ously. 

Uses  and  Value  of  the  Pan-gymnastikon. 

Upon  a  close  examination  of  the  Pan- 
gymnastic  exercises,  the  conviction  will  be 
forced  upon  all,  that  by  no  other  means  can 
such  a  variety  of  valuable  exercises  be 
reached. 


A  vain  boasting  over  muscular  strength  & 
vulgar.  We  regard  with  disfavor  the  cul 
tivation  of  mere  strength,  without  a  noble 
carriage,  freedom,  security,  agility  and  grace. 
Still  less  do  we  approve  of  a  mere  display  of 
feats.  But  what  thoughtful  person  can  re 
flect  upon  the  objects  of  human  life,  without 
seeing  that  not  only  is  the  highest  develop 
ment  of  the  muscular  system  a  great  advan 
tage  to  those  who  follow  mechanical  occu 
pations,  but  of  vital  importance  likewise  to 
those  who  fill  the  ranks  of  intellectual  life, 
and  who  require  as  a  condition  of  success, 
good  health  and  strong  vitality. 

Only  a  whole  man  is  capacitated  to  per 
form  in  the  best  manner  the  tasks  of  life. 
Is  it  not  an  aim  worthy  our  highest  efforts 


FIGURE  7. 

to  develop  our  whole  being  to  its  fullest 
capacity?  To  carry  forward  to  full  fruition 
those  germs,  which,  like  the  slumbering 
buds  of  a  plant,  exist  within  us,  awaiting 
the  period  of  their  development  and  ripen 
ing.  That  which  man  is>  in  himself,  that 
which  he  possesses  in  his  own  person — his 
intellectual  and  physical  capabilities,  consti 
tute  his  only  permanent,  reliable  capital. 


GERMAN  PAN-GYMNASTIKOW,  OR  SWING  AND  STIRRUPS. 


322 


If  then  a  method  is  opened  for  the  develop 
ment  of  his  physical  strength,  not  at  the 
cost,  but  to  the  advantage  of  his  intellectual 
powers,  would  he  not  prove  himself  a  sim 
pleton  if  he  refused  to  follow  such  a  path? 
The  anatomist,  in  examining  the  exer 
cises  here  introduced,  will  not  fail  to  discover 
that  each  and  every  set  of  muscles  has  re 
ceived  studied  attention,  while  at  the  same 
time  the  general  development  of  the  MAN 
has  been  kept  in  vkw. 


port  as  well  is  the  points  of  grasp  are  iaove= 
able,  whilst  c~dinarily  these  points  are  fixed 
The  advantage  of  the  Pan-gymnastikon  iSj 
that  these  points  are  fixed  through  a  varied 
action  of  the  muscles.  This  compels  an  al 
most  infinite  multiplication  of  the  direction 
and  manner  of  muscular  exertion. 

The  Pan-gymnastikon  possesses  strong  at' 
tractions  to  lovers  of  gymnastic  exercises, 
on  account  of  this  great  variety,  and  tfie 
graduated  difficulties  to  be  overcome.  ^ 


FIGURE  8. 

The  muscles  of  the  lower  part  of  the  body, 
and  the  nape  of  the  neck,  are  more  thoroughly 
trained  than  by  any  other  mean**-  The  ex 
tensor  muscles  of  the  fingers,  hands,  arms 
and  legs,  which  are  never  brought  into 
vigorous  play  with  other  gymnastic  appa 
ratus,  enjoy,  in  the  use  of  this  apparatus,  full 
play.  The  rotatory  and  diagonal  movements 
of  the  muscles,  which  are  particularly  effective 
in  the  production  of  symmetry,  figure  promi 
nently. 

Pan-gymnastic  exercises  derive  great  ad 
vantage  from  the  fact  that  the  points  of  sup- 


FIGURE  9. 

will  everywhere  prove  a  source  of  unlimited 
interest  in  private  houses. 

The  pupil  must  observe  the  gradual 
method  of  advancing.  Beginning  with  the 
most  simple,  and  at  last  reaching  the  most 
difficult.  He  must  proceed  from  exercise  to 
exercise,  from  degree  to  degree,  from  series 
to  series. 

Figure  i. — ELBOW  SWING,  forward  and 
backward^  four,  six,  or  eight  times. 

Rings  high  enough  for  the  body  to  hang 
straight,  the  body  being  supported  by  the 
elbows.  The  swing  is  obtained  by  soring^ 


322 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


ing  from  the  floor,  and  a  continued  effort  of 
the  legs. 

Figure  2. — HAND  SWING,  forward  and 
backward,  four,  eight,  or  twelve  times. 

Rings  so  high  that  the  feet  will  not  touch 
ill  swinging ;  wif  •!  the  arms  straight 


FIGURE  10. 

Figure  j. — BODY  SWING,  forward  and 
backward,  four,  eight,  or  twelve  times. 

Rings  so  high  that  the  feet  will  touch  the 
floor.  It  is  well  for  beginners  especially  to 
keep  the  arms  in  the  attitude  seen  in  the 
cut.  The  legs  must  not  be  bent 

Figure  4. — TUNNEL  CIRCLING,  with 
Shoulder  Support,  four,  eight,  or  twelve 
times. 

Rings  a  hand's  breadth  below  the  height 
of  the  shoulder.  Arms  put  through  the 
rings ;  feet  do  not  leave  their  position.  The 
exercise  consists  in  circling  the  body  around, 
from  left  to  right  and  from  right  to  left,  the 
same  number  of  times  each  way.  From  all 
parts  of  the  circle,  the  body  faces  in  the 
same  direction.  The  body  must  not  be  al 
lowed  to  bend  in  the  least. 

Figure  5. — BACK  STRETCHED  POSITION, 
during  twO)  four,  or  six  inhalations. 


Rings  same  as  in  the  last  Grasp  with 
the  spoke  grasp  from  the  outside,  in  such  a 
manner  that  the  rope  is  brought  close  be 
hind  the  shoulder  joint,  and  the  shoulders 
braced  against  the  rope.  The  ropes  perpen 
dicular,  while  the  body  is  kept  rigid,  with 
the  chest  arched  upward. 

Figure  6. — HAND  HANG,  during  two, 
four,  or  six  inhalations. 

Hands  in  the  rings,  placed  on  outside  as 
in  the  cut.  Beginners,  with  but  little  mus 
cle,  had  better  hang  the  rings  no  highei 
than  the  abdomen.  Back  straight  and  rigid 
Chest  arched  forward.  Feet  locked.  Body 
held  still. 

Figure  7.^-8101$  HANGING,  with  bending 
of  the  Kips*  two,  four,  or  six  times. 


FIGURE  11. 

Height  of  the  ring  and  position  o:  tW 
two  arms,  the  feet  and  the  hips  are  well 
shown.  The  hips  are  drawn  upward  and 
allowed  to  fall,  as  suggested  in  the  dotted 
line. 

Figure  8. — STIRRUP  CROSSING,  four,  sit^ 
eight  times. 

Rings  as  high  as  the  hips.  Support  grasp 
from  the  inside.  Legs  cross  each  other,  so 
that  each  alternates  before  and  behind  the 


GERMAN  PAN-GYMNASTIKON,  OR  SWING  AND  STIRRUPS. 


323 


other.  Hold  the  rings  so  that  they  will 
not  partake  of  the  movement.  Count  as 
one  in  this  and  similar  exercises,  the  move 
ments  of  both  legs.  It  will  be  self  evident, 
that  to  stand  in  the  stirrups  without  move 
ment,  develops  varied  muscular  action  in  the 
legs  and  feet 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  toes  only,  rest 
upon  the  stirrups.  For  obvious  reasons  the 
feet  should  not  be  pushed  through  to  the 
heels. 

Figure  9.  —  SWINGING  IN  STIRRUPS,  four> 
or  twelve  times. 


Rings  as  high  as  the  waist  or  chest  Sup 
port  grasp  from  the  inside.  Swing  as  upon 
any  ordinary  swing,  when  standing. 


FIGURE  12. 

Figure  70.— SUSPENDED  RUNNING  IN 
THE  STIRRUPS. 

Rings  and  stirrups  as  in  Figure  p. 
Make  the  same  motions  of  the  legs  as  in 
running.  As  the  legs  pass  each  other  they 
should  be  close  together. 


Figure  //. — CHEST  EXPANDING  WITS 
I^ETTING  DOWN,  two,  four,  or  six  times. 

Rings  at  the  lowest  point  Arms  pe'- 
pendicular.  Body  straight;  supported  i>i 
the  feet  on  tLe  points  of  the  toes,  and  wifi 
the  hands  seizing  the  rings  as  seen  in  the 
cut  Bend  the  elbows  and  Itt  the  body  down 
slowly.  Raise  it  again  sln'jiiy.  The  arrw 
do  nearly  all  the  labor. 


FIGURE  13. 


Figure  12. — PERPENDICULAR  SUPPORT, 
HEAD  DOWNWARD,  during  twoy  three^  of 
four  inhalations. 

Rings  as  high  as  the  head.  Seize  from 
the  outside  with  the  hand  grasp.  Spring 
from  the  floor  and  turn  a  half  summerset^ 
reaching  the  inverted  position.  Each  leg 
should  rest  against  the  rope  on  its  own  side, 
the  rope  being  inside  the  ankle.  The  body 
must  be  kept  straight 

Figure  13. — PERPENDICULAR  BODY  LIFT* 
ING  WITH  THE  Two  ARMS,  two,  three,  of 
four  times. 


324 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


Rings  as  high  as  you  can  reach.  Seize 
from  the  outside  with  the  hang  grasp.  Keep 
the  body  straight,  and  draw  the  head  up  as 
high  as  the  rings,  letting  it  down  slowly. 

Figure  14. — SUMMERSET  FORWARD  AND 
BACKWARD,  one,  two,  or  three  times. 


FIGURE   14. 

Rings  as  high  as  the  head  or  shoulders. 
The  first  half  of  the  movement  is  exactly 
like  that  in  Fig.  13;  but  unlike  those,  this 
one  is  completed.  Turning  completely 
over  thus  forward,  immediately  reverse  and 
turn  backward. 

Figure  75. — ANGULAR  SUPPORT  DRAW 
ING,  swot  three,  or  four  times. 

Figure  t6. — RAISING  THE  LEGS  IN  THE 
SUPPORT  HANG,  two,  three,  or  four  times. 

Rings  as  high  as  the  hip.  Support  your 
self  as  in  Fig.  6,  and  raise  both  legs  with 
knees  unbent  directly  in  front,  keeping  the 
tegs  together  until  they  form  a  right  angle 
with  the  body.  Keep  them  while  counting 
ten,  and  then  let  them  down  slowly. 


Figure  77. — KNEE  BEND  HANGING, 
two,  or  three  times. 

Rings  at  head  height,  and  from  one  to  the 
other  a  strong  wooden  pole  about  three  feet 
long  is  iaid.  To  reach  the  position  stand 
beneath  the  rings  with  the  back  stooped. 
Bend  the  hands  backward  and  grasp  the 
rings  by  the  side  of  the  pole.  With  a  slight 
leap  the  legs  are  carried  over  the  pole,  and 
the  hands  let  go.  One  leg  after  the  other  is 
now  raised  for  a  little  time.  In  this  way  '& 
measured  the  number  of  repetitions.  In  this 
case  as  in  all  others  where  there  is  an  alterna 
tion  between  the  two  legs,  or  arms  or  sides 
of  the  body,  the  two  are  counted  for  one. 


/  I  \N 

FIGURE  15. 

At  the  dose  of  this  exercise,  the  head  and 
Mpper  part  of  the  body  rise  up  to  grasp  the 
rings  again.  The  stirrup  straps  are  left  sus 
pended,  as  a  means  of  support  in  case  the 
rings  are  not  at  once  reached. 

Figure  18. — FOOT  POINT  HANG,  during 
one,  two,  or  three  inhalations. 


GERMAN  PAN-GYMNASTIKON,  OR  SWING  AND  STIRRUPS. 


3-5 


Place  the  pole  in  the  rings  a  little  higher 
than  the  head.  The  leap  is  made  as  for  a 
summerset  The  point  of  support  is  where 
the  toes  join  the  foot.  The  feet  being  placed 
on  the  pole,  the  hands  leave  the  rings,  and 
the  body  hangs  straight.  The  stirrup  straps 
are  allowed  to  remain  so  that  in  attempting 
to  reach  the  rings  with  the  hands,  they  may 
be  resorted  to  if  necessary. 

Figure  19. — SQUATTING  LEAP. 

From  the  lowest  squatting  position,  with 
only  the  points  of  the  feet  upon  the  floor, 
one  executes  the  leap  forward  over  the  cord. 

This  is  an  excellent  exercise  for  persons 
with  indigestion,  torpid  liver,  or  constipa 
tion.  It  will  accomplish  more  in  a  single 
minute  to  arouse  a  vigorous  action  in  the 
abdominal  viscera  than  horse  back  exercise 
in  half  an  hour. 


FIGURE    16. 


Persons  with  hernia  or  hemorrhoidal 
tnmors  will,  without  warning,  exercise  due 
caution  in  the  performance  of  this  feat 

But  in  regard  to  this  and  other  expressed 
cautions,  if  persons  who  undertake  the  exe 
cution  of  these  exercises,  have  performed  in 


due  course  all  the  exercises  of  the  Pan-gym- 
nastikon,  there  will  be  little  difficulty  o* 
danger  in  the  execution  of  the  most  difficult 
leaps. 


FIGURE  17. 


The  movements  described  in  this  chaptet 
should  be  performed  with  great  accuracy, 
and  start  from  a  right  commencing  position., 
Every  motion  (bending,  stretching,  turning, 
etc.)  should  be  fully  achieved.  It  is  only 
when*  performed  in  this  definite  way  that 
the  movements  will  have  all  the  effects  anti 
cipated. 

Each  movement  must  be  defined,  not  only 
as  to  form,  but  also  as  to  the  energy  with 
which  it  should  be  executed,  and  the  num 
ber  of  times  it  should  be  repeated.  A 
thoughtful  performer  will  find  in  his  own 
experience  of  the  movements  a  good  guide 
in  this  respect.  If  a  movement  leaves  an 
agreeable  sensation,  this  is  a  sign  that  it  has 
been  performed  with  appropriate  force  and 
frequency.  It  often  happens  that  a 


326 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


of  weariness  or  a  dull  pain  in  the  muscles 
arises  in  weak  persons,  unaccustomed  to 
muscular  exercise,  but  this  should  not  in 
duce  them  to  leave  off  the  movements 
altogether;  they  should  only  for  a  couple 
of  days  perform  them  with  less  energy,  and 
also  reduce  their  number;  and  then,  after 


FIGURE    18. 


hiving  practised  for  some  time  this  minimum 
of  movements,  they  should  gradually  increase 
them  in  both  respects. 

Indeed,  weak  and  ailing  persons  should 
always  begin  the  exercises  in  this  moderate 
way.  As  a  rule,  the  moT  ements  should  not 
induce  fatigue,  much  less  any  pain  in  the 
muscles,  which  will  not  happen  if  the  move 
ments  be  proportioned  to  the  amount  of  force 
and  other  peculiarities  of  the  individual. 

If  any  real  benefit  is  to  be  derived  from 

the  movements,  a  wise  order  with  regard  to 

food  and  drink — so  essential  to  health — must 

be   observed.     You   see   the   laborer,   when 

rly  fed,  become  exhausted  and  weakened 


by  work,  which  if  he  had  substantial  food, 
would  increase  his  powers  and  strengthen 
his  health.  A  starving  individual  cannot 
derive  any  benefit  for  his  health  from  exer 
cises.  But  people  are  more  frequently  at 
fault  in  taking  inappropriate  food  or  taking 
food  in  too  great  quantity ;  and  it  should  be 
borne  in  mind  that  the  wholesome  effects  of 
the  movements  will  be  lessened,  if  not  quite 
neutralized,  unless  due  moderation  in  eating 
and  drinking  be  observed. 

The  movements  should  be  performed  in  a 
well-ventilated  space.  Fresh  air  being  a 
condition  necessary  to  health,  it  follows  that 
the  performance  of  exercises  in  close,  stuffy 
air  cannot  bring  about  the  intended  whole 
some  effect. 


FIGURE  19. 

Daily  experience  shows  us  the  beneficial 
influence  that  muscular  exercise  has  on  the 
nervous  system.  There  is  evidently  a  differ 
ence,  as  to  the  condition  of  their  nerves, 
between  workingmen  of  all  descriptions,  and 
the  classes  of  society  which  more  or  less 
lack  bodilv  exercise. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


Healthful  Athletic  vSports. 


t,L,  the  girls  in  this  country  might 
well  assemble  in  a  mass  meeting, 
and  with  one  grand  feminine  shout 
pass  a  vote  of  thanks  to  society  at  large  for 
the  liberty  which  custom  allows  them  in  out 
door  sports. 

Boys  and  men  can  always  find  means  for 
out-door  exercise,  but  the  girls — the  poor, 
pale,  housed  girls,  "cabined  and  con 
fined  " — must  take  most  of  their  exercise  in 
sweeping  and  dish-washing.  Still,  they  are 
not  so  restrained  as  they  were  a  few  years 
Sgo.  Girls  can  even  handle  the  oars  now, 
and  no  one  would  be  such  a  simpleton  as  to 
Suggest  that  rowing  is  indelicate. 

When  the  whole  nation  of  American 
Women  learn  to  walk,  row,  swim,  ride  horse 
back,  play  croquet  and  lawn  tennis,  we  shall 
.not  be  the  laughing  stock  of  all  the  rest  of 
the  w?rld  for  our  sallow  faces,  narrow  chests, 
'.rtoopjng  shoulders,  spindling  bodies  and  lan 
guid  motions. 

Heaven  speed  the  day  ! 

LAWN  TENNIS. 

Among  the  few  sports  which  ladies  and 
gentlemen  can  enjoy  together  lawn  tennis  is 
the  most  popular.  It  is  a  fine  game,  especi 
ally  for  ladies.  It  requires  quick  move 
ments,  the  use  of  all  the  bodily  powers,  in- 
$tant  decision  of  mind,  accompanied  by  in 
stant  volition. 

For  this  game  you  require  a  smooth  piece 
of  ground ;  no  matter  whether  it  is  turfed  or 
not.  If  you  have  a  turfed  court  the  grass 
should  be  cut  very  short  in  order  that  the 
oiay  move  freely. 


The  Court. 

1.  The  Court  is  78  feet  long,  and  27  feel 
wide.     It  is  divided  across  the  middle  by  a 
net,  the  ends  of  which  are  attached   to  two 
posts,  A  and  B,  standing  3  feet  outside  of  the 
court  on  either  side.     The  height  of  the  net 
is  3  feet  6  inches  at  the  posts,  and  3  feet  at 
the  middle.     At  each  end  of  the  court,  par 
allel  with  the  net,  and  39  feet  from  it,  are 
drawn  the  base  lines  D  E  and  F  G,  the  ends 
of  which  are  connected  by   the  side   lines 
D  F  and  EG.     Half  way  between  side  lines, 
and  parallel  with  them,   is  drawn  the  half- 
court  line  I  H,  forming  the  right  and  left 
courts.     On  each  side  of  the  uiet,   21   feet 
from  it,  and  parallel  with  it,  are  drawn  the 
service  lines  KL,  and  M  N. 

The  Balls. 

2.  The  Balls  shall  measure  not  less  than  2 
X5~32  inches,  nor  more  than  2  1-2  inches 
in  diameter ;  and  shall  weigh  not  less  tha* 
I  ^5-16  ozs.,  nor  more  than  two  ozs. 

The  Game. 

3.  The  choice  of  sides,  and  the  right  tc 
serve  in  the  first  game,  shall  be  decided  by 
toss;  provided   that,  if  the  winner  of  the 
toss  choose   the   right   to  serve,  the  othei 
player  shall  have  choice  of  sides,  and  vice 
versa.     If  one  player  choose  the  court,  the 
other  may  elect  not  to  serve. 

4.  The   players  shall   stand   on   opposite 
sides  of  the  net;   the  player  who  first  de 
livers  the  ball  shall  be  called  the  server,  and 
the  other  the  strike-out 

5.  At  the  end  of  the  first  game  the  striker- 
out  shall  become  server,  and  the  server  shaT 


328 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRING. 


oecome  striker-out;  and  so  on  alternately  in 
all  the  subsequent  games  of  the  set,  or  series 
of  sets. 

6.  The  Server  shall  serve  with  one  foot 
on  the  base  line  or  perpendicularly  above 
said  line,  and  with  the  other  foot  behind 
said    line,   but    not    necessarily   upon    the 
ground.     He  shall  deliver  the  service  from 
the  right  to  the  left  courts,  alternately,  be 
ginning  from  the  right 

7.  The  ball  served  must  drop  between  the 
service  line,  half-court  line,  and  the  side  line 
of  the  court,  diagonally  opposite  to  that  from 
which  it  was  served. 


to  return  the  service  he  shall  be  deemed 
ready. 

13.  A  service  or  fault  delivered  when  the 
striker-out  is  not  ready,  counts  for  nothing. 

14.  The  service  shall  not  be  volleyed,  z.  £« 
taken,  before  it  has  touched  the  ground. 

15.  A  ball  is  in  play  on  leaving  the  server's 
racquet,  except  as  provided  for  in  law  8. 

1 6.  It  is  a  good  return,  although  the  ball 
touches  the  net;   but  a  service,   otherwise 
good,  which  touches  the  net,  shall  count  fat 
nothing. 

1 7.  The  server  wins  a  stroke  if  the  striker- 
out  volleys  the  service,  or  if  he  fails  to  re- 


B 


18 


21 


M 
39 


8.  It  is  a  Fault  if  the  server  fails  to  strike 
the  ball,  or  if  the  ball  served  drops  in  the 
net,  or  beyond  the  service  line,  or  out  of 
court,  or  in  the  wrong  court ;  or  if  the  server 
does  not  stand  as  directed  by  law  6. 

9.  A  fault  cannot  be  taken. 

10.  After  a   fault  the  server  shall  serve 
again  from  the  same  court  from  which  he 
served  that  fault,  unless  it  was  a  fault  be 
cause  he  served  from  the  wrong  court 

11.  A  fault  cannot  be  claimed  after  the 
next  service  is  delivered. 

12.  The  server  shall   not  serve   till  the 
gtriker-out  is  ready.     If  the  latter  attempts 


21 


18 


H 


K 

39 


turn  the  service  or  the  ball  in  play;  or  if  he 
returns  the  service  or  the  ball  iu  play 
so  that  it  drops  outside  of  his  opponent's 
court;  or  if  he  otherwise  loses  a  strokej  as 
provided  by  law  20. 

1 8.  The  striker-out  wins  a  stroke  if  the 
server  serves  two  consecutive  faults ;  or  if  he 
fails  to  return  the  ball  in  play ;  or  if  he  re 
turns  the  ball  in  play  so  that  it  drops  out 
side    of  his    opponent's    court;  or    if   he 
otherwise  loses  a  stroke,  as  provided  by  aw 

20. 

19.  A  ball  falling  on  a  line  is  regardec 
as  falling  in  the  court  bounded  by  that  line 


HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS. 


329 


20.  Either  player  loses  a  stroke  if  the 
ball  touches  him,  or  anything  that  he  wears 
or  carries,  except  his  racquet  in  the  act  of 
of  striking;   or  if  he  touches  the  ball  with 
his  racquet  more  than  once ;  or  if  he  touches 
the  net  or  any  of  its  supports  while  the  ball 
is  in  play ;  or  if  he  volleys  the  ball  before  it 
has  passed  the  net 

21.  In  case  a  player  is  obstructed  by  any 
accident,   not  within  his   control,   the   ball 
shall  be  considered  a  "let"    But  where  a  per 
manent  fixture  of  the  court  is  the  cause  of 
the   accident   the   point  shall   be   counted. 
The  benches  and  chairs  placed  around  the 
court  shall  be  considered  permanent  fixtures. 
If,  however,  a  ball  in  play  strikes  a  perma 
nent  fixture  of  the  court  (other  than  the  net 
or  posts),  before  it  touches  the  ground,  the 
point  is  lost;    if  after  it  has  touched  the 
ground,  the  point  shall  be  counted. 

22.  On   either  player  winning   his   first 
stroke,  the  score  is  called  15  for  that  player; 
on  either  player  winning  his  second  stroke, 
Ihe  score  is  called  30  for  that  player ;   on 
either  player  winning  his  third  stroke,  the 
stroke  is  called  40  for  that  player ;  and  tiie 
fourth  stroke  won  by  either  player  is  scored 
game  for  that  player,  except  as  below :     If 
both  players  have  won   three  strokes,  the 
score  is  called  deuce ;  and  the  next  stroke 
won  by  either  player  is  scored  advantage  for 
that  player.     If  the  same  player  wins  the 
next  stroke,  he  wins  the  game ;  if  lie  loses 
the  next  stroke  the  score  returns  to  deuce ; 
and  so  on  until  one  player  wins  the  two 
strokes  immediately  following  the  score  of 
deuce,  when  game  is  scored  for  that  player. 

23.  The  player  who  first  wins  six  games, 
wins  the   set,    except  as  below:     If    both 
players  win  five  games,  the  score  is  called 
games  all;  and  the  next  game  won  by  either 
player   is  scored  advantage  game   for  that 
player.     If  the  same  player  wins  the  next 


game  he  wins  the  set;  if  he  loses  the  next 
game,  the  score  returns  to  games  all ;  and  so 
on  until  either  player  wins  the  two  games 
immediately  following  the  score  of  games 
all,  when  he  wins  the  set.  But  the  com 
mittee  having  charge  of  any  tournament 
may,  in  their  discretion,  modify  tins  rule  by 
the  omission  of  advantage  sets. 

24.  The  players  shall  change  sides  at  the 
end  of  every  set,  but  the  umpire,  on  appeal 
from  either  player  before  the  toss  for  choice, 
shall  direct  the  players  to  change  sides  at 
the  first,  third,  fifth,  and  every  succeeding 
alternate  game  of  each  set,  if,  in  his  opinion, 
either  side  have  a  distinct  advantage,  owing 
to  the  sun,  wind,  or  other  cause,  but  if  the 
appeal  be  made  after  the  toss  for  choice,  the 
umpire  can  only  direct  the  players  to  change 
sides  at  the  end  of  the  first,  third,  fifth,  and 
every  succeeding  alternate  game  of  the  odd 
or  deciding  set.      If   the   players    change 
courts  in  the  alternate  games  throughout  the 
match,  as  above,  they  shall  play  in  the  first 
game  of  each  set  after  the  first  in  the  corner 
in  which  they  respectively  did  not  play  in 
the  first  game  of  the  set  immediately  pre* 
ceding. 

25.  When  a  series  of  sets  is  played,  the 
player  who  served  in  the  last  game  of  one 
set  shall  be  striker-out  in  the  first  game  of 
the  next. 

26.  In  all  contests  the  play  shall  be  con 
tinuous  from  the  first  service  until  the  match 
be  concluded,  provided,  however,  that  be 
tween  all  sets  after  the  second  set,  either 
player  is  entitled  to  a  rest,  which  shall  not 
exceed  seven  minutes,  and,  provided  further, 
that  in  case  of  an  unavoidable  accident,  not 
within  the  control  of  the  contestants,  a  ces 
sation   of  play  which  shall  not  exceed  two 
minutes  may  be  allowed  between  points,  but 
this  proviso  shall  be  strictly  construed,  and 
the  privilege  never  granted  for  the  purpose 


330 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STROiNTG. 


of  allowing  a  player  to  recover  his  strength 
or  wind.  The  umpire,  in  his  discretion, 
may  at  any  time  postpone  the  match  on  ac 
count  of  darkness  or  condition  of  the 
ground  or  weather.  In  any  case  of  post 
ponement  the  previous  score  shall  hold  good. 
Where  the  play  has  ceased  for  more  than  an 
hour,  the  player  who  at  the  cessation  thereof 
was  in  the  court  first  chosen,  shall  have  the 
choice  of  courts  on  the  recommencement  of 
play.  He  shall  stay  in  the  court  he  chooses 
for  the  remainder  of  the  set 

The  last  two  sentences  of  this  rule  do  not 
apply  when  the  players  change  •  every  alter 
nate  game,  as  provided  by  Rule  24. 

27  The  above  laws  shall  apply  to  the 
three-handed  and  four-handed  games,  except 
as  below: 

The  Three-handed  and  Four-handed 
Games. 

28.  For  the  three-handed  and  four-handed 
games  the  court  shall  be  36  feet  in  width  ; 
4^  feet  inside  the  side  lines,  and  parallel 
with  them  are  drawn  the  service  side  lines. 
The  service  lines  are  not  drawn  beyond  the 
point  at  which  they  meet  the  service  side 
lines. 

29.  In  the  three-handed  game,  the  single 
player  shall  serve  in  every  alternate  game. 

30.  In  the    four-handed  game,    the  pair 
who  have  the  right  to  serve  in  the  first  game 
shall  decide  what  partner  shall  do  so ;  and 
the  opposing  pair  shall  decide  in  like  man 
ner  for  the  second  game.     The  partner  of 
the  player  who  served  in  the  first  game  shall 
,erve  in  the  third,  and  the  partner  of  the 
player  who  served  in  the  second  game  shall 
serve  in  the  fourth,  and  the  same  order  shall 
be  maintained  in  all  the  subsequent  games 
of  the  set. 

31.  At   the    beginning    of  the   next   set 
either  partner  of  the  pair  which  struck  out 
In  the  last  game  of  the  last  set  may  serve ; 


and  the  same  privilege  is  given  to  their  oj> 
ponents  in  second  game  of  the  new  set. 

32.  The  players  shall  take  the  service  al 
ternately   throughout   the   game  ;  a   player 
cannot   receive   a  service  delivered   to   his 
partner ;  and  the  order  of  service  and  strik 
ing-out  once  established  shall  not  be  altered, 
nor  shall  the  striker-out  change  courts  to  re 
ceive  the  service,  till  the  end  of  the  set. 

33.  If  a  player  serve  out   of  his  turn, 
the  umpire,  as  soon  as  the  mistake  is  dis 
covered,  shall  direct  the  player  to  serve  who 
ought  to  have    served.       But    all    strokes 
scored  before  such  discovery  shall  be  counted. 
If  a  game  shall  have  been  completed  before 
such  discovery,  then  the  service  in  the  next 
alternate    game  shall    be   delivered  by  the 
player  who  did  not  serve  out  of  his  turn,  and 
so  on  in  regular  rotation. 

34.  It  is  a  fault  if  the  ball  served  does  not 
drop  between  the   service    line,    half-court 
line,  and  service  side  line  of  the  court,   dia 
gonally  opposite  to  that  from  which  it  was 
served. 

35.  It  is  a  fault  if  the  ball  served  does  not 
drop  as  provided  in  law  34,  or  if  it  touches 
the  server's  partner  or  anything  he  wears  or 
carries. 

36.  There  shall  be  a  referee  for  every 
tournament,  whose  name  shall  be  stated  in 
the  circular  announcing  such  tournament 
He  shall  have  general  charge  of  the  matches, 
under   the   instructions   and  advice   of  the 
managing  committee,  with  such  power  and 
authority  ^s  may  be  given   him   by   these 
rules  and    by   said    committee.      He    shall 
notify  the  committee  in  case  he  intends  to 
leave  the  grounds  during  the  matches,  and 
the  committee  shall  appoint  a  substitute  to 
act,  with  like  powers,  during  his  absence. 
There  shall  be  an  umpire  for  each  match, 
and  as  many  linesmen  as  the  players  desire. 
The  umpire  may  act  as  linesman  also.     The 


HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS. 


33* 


umpire  shall  have  general  charge  of  the 
match,  and  shall  decide  upon  and  call  "lets," 
and  also  decide  whether  the  player  took  the 
ball  on  the  first  or  second  bounce.  The  um 
pire  shall  also  decide  any  question  of  inter 
pretation  or  construction  of  the  rules  that 
may  arise.  The  decision  of  the  umpire  upon 
any  question  of  fact,  or  where  a  discretion  is 
allowed  to  him  under  these  rules,  shall  be 
final.  Any  player,  however,  may  protest 
against  any  interpretation  or  construction  of 
the  rules  by  the  umpire,  and  appeal  to  the 
referee.  The  decision  of  the  referee  upon 
such  appeals  should  be  final. 

The  court  shall  be  divided  between  the 
linesmen,  and  it  shall  be  their  only  duty  to 
decide,  each  for  his  share  of  the  court,  where 
the  ball  touched  the  ground,  except,  how 
ever,  the  linesmen  for  the  base  lines,  who 
&hall  also  call  foot  faults.  The  linesmen's 
decisions  shall  be  final.  If  a  linesman  is 
/tmable  to  give  a  decision  because  he  did  not 
See  or  is  uncertain  of  the  fact,  the  umpire 
ishall  decide  or  direct  the  stroke  to  be  played 
again. 

Odds. 

37.  A  Bisque  is  one  point  which  can  be 
taken  by  the  receiver  of  the  odds  at  any  time 
in  the  set,  except  as  follows  : 

(<?.)  A  bisque  cannot  be  taken  after  a  ser 
vice  is  delivered. 

(&)  The  server  may  not  take  a  bisque  after 
a  fault,  but  the  striker-out  may  do  so. 

38.  One  or  more  bisques  may  be  given  to 
increase  or  diminish  other  odds. 

^9.  Half  fifteen  is  one  stroke  given  at  the 
beginning  of  the  second,  fourth,  and  every 
subsequent  alternate  game  of  a  set. 

40.  Fifteen   is   one   stroke   given   at   the 
beginning  of  every  game  of  a  set. 

41.  Half  thirty  is  one  stroke  given  at  the 
beginning  of  the  first  game,  two  strokes  given 
at  the  beginning  of  the  second  game,  and  so 


on  alternately  in  all  the  subsequent  games  of 
the  set. 

42.  Thirty  is  two   strokes   given   at   the 
beginning  of  every  game  of  the  sel. 

43.  Half  forty  is  two  strokes  given  at  the 
beginning  of  the  first  game,  three  strokes 
given  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  game, 
and  so  on  alternately  in  all  the  subsequent 
games  of  the  set. 

44.  Forty  is  three  strokes  given  at   the 
beginning  of  every  game  of  a  set.    . 

45.  Half  Court :    the  players  may  agree 
into  which  half  court,  right  or  left,  the  giver 
of  the  odds  shall  play ;  and  the  latter  loses  a 
a  stroke  if  the  ball  returned  by  him  drops 
outside  any  of  the  lines  which  bound  that 
hal£  court 

46.  Owed  odds  are  where  the  giver  of  the 
odds  starts  behind  scratch. 

47.  Owe  half  fifteen  is  one  stroke  owed 
at  the  beginning  of  the  first,  third,  and  every 
subsequent  alternate  game  of  a  set 

48.  Owe  fifteen  is  one  stroke  owed  at  the 
beginning  of  every  game  of  a  set 

{  49.  Owe  half  thirty  is  two  strokes  owed  at 
the  beginning  of  the  first  game,  one  stroke 
owed  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  game, 
and  so  on  alternately  through  all  the  subse 
quent  games  of  the  set. 

50.  Owe  thirty  is  two  strokes  owed  at  the 
beginning  of  every  game  of  a  set 

5 1 .  Owe  half  forty  is  three  strokes  owed  at 
the  beginning  of  the  first  game,  two  strokes 
owed  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  game, 
and  so  on  alternately  in  all  subsequent  games 
of  the  set. 

52.  Owe  forty  is  three  strokes  owed  at  the 
beginning  of  every  game  of  a  set     In  play 
ing  tennis  you  need  to  make  rapid  move 
ments,  and  should  have  a  dress  that  will  not 
interfere  with  these.     There  shoiild  be  no 
long  dress  skirts  nor  coat  tails.     You  should 
also  have  tennis  shoes. 


332 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


FOOT  BALL. 


Foot  ball  is  one  of  the  most  exciting  of 
manly  sports  and  is  very  popular.     If  played 
by  rule,  injury  is  not  likely  to  result 
Foot  Ball  Rules. 

RULE  i. — (a)  A  drop-kick  is  made  by 
letting  the  ball  fall  from  the  hands  and  kick 
ing  it  at  the  very  instant  it  rises. 

(3)  A  place-kick  is  made  by  kicking  the 
ball  after  it  has  been  placed  on  the  ground. 

(<:)  A  £unt  is  made  by  letting  the  ball  fall 
from  the  hands  and  kicking  it  before  it 
touches  the  ground. 

(d}  Kick-off  is  a  place-kick  from  the  centre 
of  the  field  of  play,  and  cannot  score  a  goal. 

(e)  Kick-out  is  a  drop-kick,  or  place-kick, 
by  a  player  of  the  side  which  has  touched 
the  ball  down  in  their  own  goal,  or  into 
whose  touch-in-goal  the  ball  has  gone,  and 
cannot  score  a  goal. 

(/)  A  free-kick  is  one  \vnere  the  opponents 
are  restrained  by  rule. 

RULE  2. — (a}  In  touch  means  out  of 
bounds. 

(&)  A  fair  is  putting  the  ball  in  play  from 
touch. 

RULE  3. — A  foul  is  any  violation  of  a 
rule. 

RULE  4. — (a)  A  touch-down  is  made  when 
the  ball  is  carried,  kicked,  or  passed  across 
the  goal  line  and  there  held,  either  in  goal 
or  touch-in-goal. 

(£)  A  safety  is  made  when  a  player  guard 
ing  his  goal  receives  the  ball  from  a  player 
of  his  own  side,  either  by  a  pass,  kick,  or  a 
snap-back,  and  then  touches  it  down  behind 
his  goal  line,  or  when  he  himself  carries  the 
ball  across  his  own  goal  line  and  touches  it 
down,  or  when  he  puts  the  ball  into  his  own 
touch-in-goal,  or  when  the  ball,  being  kicked 
by  one  of  his  own  side,  bounds  back  from 
an  opponent  across  the  goal  line  and  he 
then  touches  it  down. 


(<:)  A  touch-back  is  made  when  a  player 
touches  the  ball  to  the  ground  behind  his 
own  goal,  the  impetus  which  sent  the  ball 
across  the  line  having  been  received  from  an 
opponent. 

RULE  5. — A  punt-out  is  a  punt  made  by  a 
player  of  the  side  which  has  made  a  touch 
down  in  their  opponents'  goal  to  another  of 
his  own  side  for  a  fair  catch. 

RULE  6. — A  goal  may  be  obtained  b} 
kicking  the  ball  in  any  way  except  a  puni 
from  the  field  of  play  (without  touching  the 
ground,  or  dress,  or  person  of  any  player 
after  the  kick)  over  the  cross-bar  or  post  of 
opponents'  goal. 

RULE  7. — A  scrimmage  takes  place  when 
the  holder  of  the  ball  puts  it  down  on  the 
ground,  and  puts  it  in  play  by  kicking  it  oi 
snapping  it  back. 

RULE  8. — A  fair  catch  is  a  catch  made 
direct  from  a  kick  by  one  of  the  opponents, 
or  from  a  punt-out  by  one  of  the  same  side, 
provided  the  catcher  made  a  mark  with  his 
heal  at  the  spot  where  he  has  made  the 
catch,  and  no  other  of  his  side  touch  the 
ball.  If  the  catcher,  after  making  his  mark, 
be  deliberately  thrown  to  the  ground  by  an 
opponent,  he  shall  be  given  five  yards,  unles? 
this  carries  the  ball  across  the  goal  line. 

RULE  9. — Charging  is  rushing  forward  to 
seize  the  ball  or  tackle  a  player. 

RULE  10. — Interference  is  using  the  hands 
or  arms  in  any  way  to  obstruct  or  hold  8 
player  who  has  not  the  ball,  not  the  runner; 

RULE  ii. — The  ball  is  dead: 

I.  When  the  holder  has  cried  do\Mi,  01 
when  the  referee  has  cried  down,  or  when 
the  umpire  has  called  foul. 

II.  When  a  goal  has  been  obtained, 

III.  When   it  has  gone  into   touch,   M 
touch-in-goal,  except  for  punt-out 

IV.  When  a  touch-down  or  safety  b*s 
been  made. 


HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS. 


333 


V.  When  a  fair  catch  has  been  heeled. 
No  play  can  be  made  while  the  ball  is  dead, 
except  to  pnt  in  play  by  rule. 

RULE  12. — The  grounds  must  be  330  feet 
in  length  and  160  feet  in  width,  with  a  goal 
placed  in  the  middle  of  each  goal  line,  com 
posed  of  two  upright  posts,  exceeding  20 
feet  in  height,  and  placed  18  feet  6  inches 
c.part,  with  cross-bar  10  feet  from  the  ground. 

RULE  13. — The  game  shall  be  played  by 


Committee.  The  referee  shall  be  chosen  by 
the  two  captains  of  the  opposing  teams  in 
each  game,  except  in  case  of  disagreement, 
when  the  choice  shall  be  referred  to  the  Ad 
visory  Committee,  whose  decision  shall  be 
final.  All  the  referees  and  umpires  shall  be 
permanently  elected  and  assigned,  on  01 
before  the  third  Saturday  in  October  in  each 
year. 

RULE  15. — (a)  The  umpire  is  the  judge 


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teams  of  eleven  men  each ;  and  in  case  of 
a  disqualified  or  injured  player  a  substitute 
ihall  take  his  place.  Nor  shall  the  disquali- 
ied  or  injured  player  return  to  further  par 
ticipation  in  the  game. 

RULE  14. — There  shall  be  an  umpire  and 
a  referee.  No  man  shall  act  as  an  umpire 
whf?  is  an  alumnus  of  either  of  the  com- 
petkig'  colleges.  The  umpires  shall  be 
nominated  and  electe4  by  th<*  Advisory 


for  the  players,  and  his  decision  is  final  re 
garding  fouls  and  unfair  tactics. 

(b}  The  referee  is  judge  for  the  ball,  and 
his  decision  is  final  in  all  points  not  covered 
by  the  umpire. 

(c)  Both  umpire  and  referee  shall  use 
whistles  to  indicate  cessation  of  play  on 
fouls  and  downs.  The  referee  shall  use  a 
stop  watch  in  timing  the  game. 

RULE  1 6. — (a)  The  time  of  a  game  is  ao 


334 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRUNT3. 


hour  and  a  half,  each  side  playing  forty-five 
minutes  from  each  goal.  There  shall  be 
ten  minutes'  intermission  between  the  two 
halves.  The  game  shall  be  decided  by  the 
score  of  even  halves.  Either  side  refusing  to 
play  after  ordered  to  by  the  referee,  shall  for 
feit  the  game.  This  shall  also  apply  to  refus 
ing  to  commence  the  game  when  ordered  to 
by  the  referee.  The  referee  shall  notify  the 
captains  of  the  time  remaining  not  more 
than  ten  nor  less  than  five  minutes  from  the 
end  of  each  half. 

(£)  Time  shall  not  be  called  for  the  end  of 
a  three-quarter  until  the  ball  is  dead ;  .and  in 
the  case  of  a  try-at-goal  from  a  touch-down 
the  try  shall  be  allowed.  Time  shall  be  taken 
out  while  the  ball  is  being  brought  out  either 
for  a  try,  kick-out  or  kick-off. 

RULE  17. — No  one  wearing  projecting 
nails  or  iron  plates  on  his  shoes  or  any  metal 
substance  upon  his  person,  shall  be  allowed 
to  play  in  a  match.  No  sticky  or  greasy 
substance  shall  be  used  on  the  person  of 
players. 

RULE  1 8. — The  ball  goes  into  touch  when 
it  crosses  the  side  line,  or  when  the  holder 
puts  part  of  either  foot  across  or  on  that  line. 
The  touch  line  is  in  touch  and  the  goal  line 
in  goal. 

RULE  19. — The  captains  shall  toss  up  be 
fore  the  commencement  of  the  match,  and 
the  winner  of  the  toss  shall  have  his  choice 
of  goal  or  of  kick-off.  The  same  side  shall 
not  kick-off  in  two  successive  halves. 

RULE  20. — The  ball  shall  be  kicked  off  at 
the  beginning  of  each  half;  and  whenever  a 
goal  has  been  obtained,  the  side  which  has 
lost  it  shall  kick-off. 

RULE  21. — A  player  who  has  made  and 
claimed  a  fair  catch  shall  take  a  drop-kick, 
or  punt,  or  place  the  ball  for  a  place-kick, 
the  opponents  may  come  up  to  the  catcher's 
mark,  and  the  ball  must  be  kicked  from 


some  spot  behind  that  mark  on  a  parallel  to 
touch  line. 

RULE  22. — The  side  which  has  a  free-kick 
must  be  behind  the  ball  when  it  is  kicked. 
At  kick-off  the  opposite  side  must  stand  at 
least  ten  yards  in  front  of  the  ball  until  it  is 
kicked. 

RULE  23. — Charging  is  lawful  for  oppo 
nents  if  a  punter  advances  beyond  his  line, 
or  in  case  of  a  place-kick,  immediately  the 
ball  is  put  in  play  by  touching  the  ground. 
In  case  of  a  punt-out,  not  till  ball  is  kicked, 

RULE  24. — (a)  A  player  is  put  off-side,  if, 
during  a  scrimmage,  he  gets  in  front  of  the 
ball,  or  if  the  ball  has  been  last  touched  by 
his  own  side  behind  him.  It  is  impossible 
for  a  player  to  be  off-side  in  his  own  goal. 
No  player  when  off-side  shall  touch  the  ball, 
or  interrupt,  or  obstruct  opponent  with  his 
hands  or  arms  until  again  on-side. 

(b)  A  player  being  off-side  is  put  on-side 
when  the  ball  has  touched  an  opponent,  or 
when  one  of  his  own  side  has  run  in  front  of 
him,  either  with  the  ball,  or  having  touched 
it  when  behind  him. 

(c)  If  a  player  when  off-side  touches  the 
ball  inside  the  opponents'  five  yard  line,  the 
ball  shall  go  as  a  touch-back  to  the  oppo 
nents. 

RULE  25. — No  player  shall  lay  his  hands 
upon,  or  interfere  by  use  of  hands  or  arms, 
with  an  opponent,  unless  he  has  the  ball. 
The  side  which  has  the  ball  can  only  inter 
fere  with  the  body.  The  side  which  has  not 
the  ball  can  use  the  hands  and  arms,  as  here 
tofore. 

RULE  26. — (a)  A  foul  shall  be  granted  foi 
intentional  delay  of  game,  off-side  play,  01 
holding  an  opponent,  unless  he  has  the  ball. 
No  delay  arising  from  any  cause  whatsoever 
shall  continue  more  than  five  minutes. 

(&)  The  penalty  for  fouls  and  violation  of 
rules,  except  otherwise  provided,  shall  be  a 


HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS. 


335 


down  for  the  other  side  ;  or,  if  the  side  mak 
ing  the  foul  has  not  the  ball,  five  yards  to 
the  opponents. 

RULE  27. — (a)  A  player  shall  be  disquali 
fied  for  unnecessary  roughness,  hacking  or 
sari  king  with  closed  fist. 

(£)  For  the  offences  of  throttling,  tripping 
np  or  intentional  tackling  below  the 
knees,  the  opponents  shall  receive  twenty- 
five  yards,  or  a  free-kick  at  their  option.  In 
case,  however,  the  twenty-five  yards  would 
carry  the  ball  across  the  goal  line  they  can 
have  half  the  distance  from  the  spot  of  the 
offence  to  the  goal  line,  and  shall  not  be  al 
lowed  a  free-kick. 

RULE  28. — A  player  may  throw  or  pass 
the  ball  in  any  direction  except  towards  op 
ponents'  goal.  If  the  ball  be  batted  in  any 
direction  or  thrown  forward  it  shall  go  down 
on  the  spot  to  opponents. 

RULE  29. — If  a  player  when  off-side  in 
terferes  with  an  opponent  trying  for  a  fair 
catch,  by  touching  him  or  the  ball,  or  wav 
ing  his  hat  or  hands,  the  opponent  may  have 
a  free-kick,  or  down,  where  the  interference 
occurred. 

RULE  30. — (a)  If  a  player  having  the  ball 
be  tackled  and  the  ball  fairly  held,  the  man 
so  tackling  shall  cry  "held,"  the  one  so 
tackled  must  cry  "  down,  "  and  some  playe* 
of  his  side  put  it  down  for  a  scrimmage. 
The  snapper  back  and  the  man  opposite  him 
cannot  pick  out  the  ball  with  the  hand  until 
it  touch  a  third  man  ;  nor  can  the  opponents 
touch  the  ball  until  it  is  in  motion.  The 
snapper  back  is  entitled  to  but  half  the  ball. 
If  the  snapper  back  be  off-side  in  the  act  of 
snapping  back,  the  ball  must  be  snapped 
again,  and  if  this  occurs  three  times  on  same 
down,  the  ball  goes  to  opponents.  The  man 
who  first  receives  the  ball  when  snapped 
back  from  a  down,  or  thrown  back  from  a 
fair,  shall  not  carry  the  ball  forward  under 


any  circumstances  whatever.  If,  in  three 
consecutive  fairs  and  downs,  unless  the  ball 
cross  the  goal  line,  a  team  shall  not  hav ..  ad 
vanced  the  ball  five  or  taken  it  back  twenty 
yards,  it  shall  go  to  the  opponents  on  spot  of 
fourth.  "Consecutive"  means  without 
leaving  the  hands  of  the  side  holding  it,  and 
by  a  fair  kick  giving  opponents  fair  and 
equal  chance  of  gaining  possession  of  it. 

(£)  The  man  who  puts  the  ball  in  play  in 
a  scrimmage  cannot  pick  it  up  until  it  has 
touched  some  third  man.  "Third  man" 
means  any  other  player  than  the  one  putting 
the  ball  in  play  and  the  man  opposite  him. 

RULE  31. — If  the  ball  goes  into  touch, 
whether  it  bounds  back  or  not,  a  player  on 
the  side  which  touches  it  down  must  bring 
it  to  the  spot  where  the  line  was  crossed, 
and  there  either: 

I.  Bound  the  ball  in  the  field  of  play,  or 
touch  it  in  with  both  hands,  at  right  angles 
to  the  touch  line,  and  then  run  with  it,  kick 
it,  or  throw  it  back ;  or 

II.  Throw  it  out  at  right  angles  to  the 
touch  line;  or 

III.  Walk  out  with  it  at  right  angles  to 
touch  line  any  distance  not  less  than  five  nor 
more   than  fifteen  yards,  and  there  put  it 
down,   first   declaring  how   far   he   intends 
walking.     The  man  who  puts  the  ball  in 
must  face  field  or  opponents '  goal,  and  he 
alone  can  have  his  foot  outside  touch  line. 
Anyone,  except  him,  who  puts  his  hands  or 
feet  between  the  ball  and  his   opponents' 
goal  is  off-side.     If  it  be  not  thrown  out  at 
right  angles,  either  side  may  claim  it  thrown 
over  again,  and  if  it  fail  to  be  put  in  play 
fairly  in  three  trials  it  shall  go  to  the  oppon 
ents. 

RULE  32. — A  side  which  has  made  a 
touch-down  in  their  opponents '  goal  must 
try  at  goal,  either  by  a  place-kick  or  a  punt- 
out 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


RULE  33. — (a)  If  the  try  be  by  a  place- 
kick,  a  player  of  the  side  which  has  touched 
the  ball  down  shall  bring  it  up  to  the  goal 
line,  and  making  a  mark  opposite  the  spot 
where  it  was  touched  down,  bring  it  out  at 
right  angles  to  the  goal  line  such  distance 
as  he  thinks  proper,  and  there  place  it  for 
another  of  his  side  to  kick.  The  opponents 
must  remain  behind  their  goal  line  until  the 
ball  has  been  placed  on  the  ground. 

(b)  The  placer  in  a  try-at-goal  may  be  off 
side  or  in  touch  without  vitiating  the  kick. 

RULE  34. — If  the  try  be  by  a  punt-out,  the 
punter  shall  bring  the  ball  up  to  the  goal 
line,  and  making  a  mark  opposite  the  spot 
where  it  was  touched  down,  punt-out  from 
any  spot  behind  line  of  goal  and  not  nearer 
the  goal  post  than  such  mark,  to  another  of 
his  side,  who  must  all  stand  outside  of  goal 
line  not  less  than  fifteen  feet  If  the  touch 
down  was  made  in  touch  in  goal,  the  punt- 
out  shall  be  made  from  the  intersection  of 
the  goal  and  touch  lines.  The  opponents 
may  line  up  anywhere  on  the  goal  line, 
except  space  of  five  feet  on  each  side  of  pun 
ter's  mark,  but  cannot  interfere  with  punter, 
nor  can  he  touch  the  ball  after  kicking  it 
until  it  touch  some  other  player.  If  a  fair 
catch  be  made  from  a  punt-out,  the  mark 
shall  serve  to  determine  positions  as  the  mark 
of  any  fair  catch.  If  a  fair  catch  be  not 
made  the  ball  shall  go  to  the  opponents  at  the 
spot  where  it  first  strikes  the  ground. 

RULE  35. — A  side  which  has  made  a  touch- 
back  or  a  safety  must  kick  out  from  not  more 
than  twenty-five  yards  outside  the  kicker's 
goal.  If  the  ball  go  into  touch  before  strik 
ing  a  player  it  must  be  kicked  out  again  ; 
and  if  this  occurs  three  times  in  succession 
it  shall  be  given  to  opponents  as  in  touch  on 
twenty-five  yard  line  on  side  where  it  went 
out.  At  kick-out  opponents  must  be  on 
twenty-five  yard  line,  nearer  their  own  goal. 


RULE  36.— The  following  shall  be  th« 
value  of  each  point  in  the  scoring : 

Goal  obtained  by  touch-down , 6 

Goal  from  field  kick 5 

Touch-down  failing  goal 4 

Safety  by  opponents, 2 

BASE  BALL. 

The  Ball  Ground. 

RULE  i. — The  ground  must  be  an  en« 
closed  field,  sufficient  in  size  to  enable  each 
player  to  play  in  his  position  as  required  by 
these  Rules. 

RULE  2. — The  Infield  must  be  a  space  of 
ground  thirty  yards  square. 

The  Bases. 

RULE  3. — The  Bases  must  be  : 

SECTION  i.  Four  in  number,  and  desig 
nated  as  First  Base,  Second  Base,  Third  Base 
and  Home  Base. 

SECTION  2.  The  Home  Base  must  be  of 
whitened  rubber  twelve  inches  square,  so 
fixed  in  the  ground  as  to  be  even  with  the 
surface,  and  so  placed  in  the  corner  of  the 
infield  that  two  of  its  sides  will  form  part  of 
the  boundaries  of  said  infield. 

SECTION  3.  The  First,  Second  and  Third 
Bases  must  be  canvas  bags,  fifteen  inches 
square,  painted  white,  and  filled  with  some 
r  jrt  material,  and  so  placed  that  the  center 
of  the  second  base  shall  be  upon  its  corner  oi 
the  infield,  and  the  center  of  the  first  and 
third  bases  shall  be  on  the  lines  running  to 
and  from  second  base  and  seven  and  one-half 
inches  from  the  foul  lines,  providing  that 
each  base  shall  be  entirely  within  the  foul 
lines. 

SECTION  4.     All  the  bases  must  be  securely 
fastened  in  their  positions,  and  so  placed  as 
to  be  distinctly  seen  by  the  Umpire. 
The  Foul  Lines. 

RULE  4. — The  Foul  Lines  must  be  drawn 
in  straight  lines  from  the  outer  corner  of 


HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS. 


33? 


art 


IIDHT 


2d  BASEMAN 


CORRECT  DIAGRAM  OF  A  BASE  BALL  GROUND. 


£*  £'  A-— Ground  reserved  for  Umpire,  Batsman  and  Catcher. 
B.  B.— Ground  reserved  for  Captain  and  Assistant. 
C.— Players'  Bench.     D.— Visiting  Players'  Bat  Rack. 
E. — Home  Plavers'  Bat  Rack. 


53* 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG,. 


the  Home  Base,  along  the  outer  edge  of  the 
First  and  Third  Bases,  to  the  boundaries  of 
the  Ground. 

The  Position  Lines. 

RULE  5. — The  Pitcher's  Lines  must  be 
Straight  lines  forming  the  boundaries  of  a 
space  of  ground,  in  the  infield,  five  and  one- 
half  feet  long  by  four  feet  wide,  distant  fifty 
feet  from  the  center  of  the  Home  Base,  and 
so  placed  that  the  five  and  one-half  feet  lines 
would  each  be  two  feet  from  and  parallel 
with  a  straight  line  passing  through  the 
center  of  the  Home  and  Second  Bases.  Each 
corner  of  this  space  must  be  marked  by  a 
flat  round  rubber  plate  six  inches  in  diameter, 
fixed  in  the  ground  even  with  the  surface. 

RULE  6. — The  Catcher's  Lines  must  be 
drawn  from  the  outer  corner  of  the  Home 
Base,  in  continuation  of  the  Foul  Lines, 
straight  to  the  limits  of  the  Ground  back  of 
Home  Base. 

RULE  7. — The  Captain's  or  Coacher's  Line 
must  be  a  line  fifteen  feet  from  and  parallel 
with  the  Foul  lines,  said  lines  commencing 
at  a  line  parallel  with  and  seventy-five  feet 
distant  from  the  Catcher's  Lines,  and  runn 
ing  thence  to  the  limits  of  the  grounds. 

RULES. — The  Player's  Lines  must  be 
drawn  from  the  Catcher's  Lines  to  the  limits 
of  the  Ground,  fifty  feet  distant  from  and 
parallel  with  the  foul  lines. 

RULE  9. — The  Batsman's  Lines  must  be 
straight  lines  forming  the  boundaries  of  a 
space  on  the  right,  and  of  a  similar  space  on 
f  t  Jeft,  of  the  Home  Base,  six  feet  long  by 
\  i  wide,  extending  three  feet  in  front  of 
aud  three  feet  behind  the  center  of  the  Home 
Base,  and  with  its  nearest  line  distant  six 
inches  from  the  Home  Base. 

RULE  10. — The  Three  Feet  Lines  must  be 
drawn  as  follows :  From  a  point  on  the  Foul 
Line  from  Home  Base  to  First  Base,  and 
equally  distant  from  such  bases,  shall  be 


drawn  a  line  on  Foul  Ground,  at  a  right 
angle  to  said  Foul  Line,  and  to  a  point  three 
feet  distant  from  it ;  thence  running  parallel 
with  said  Foul  Line,  to  a  point  three  feet 
distant  from  the  First  Base ;  thence  in  a 
straight  line  to  the  Foul  Line,  and  thence 
upon  the  Foul  Line  to  point  of  beginning. 
RULE  ii. — The  lines  designated  in  Rules 
4>  5>  6,  7,  8,  9,  and  10  must  be  marked  with 
chalk  or  other  suitable  material,  so  a^.  to  be 
distinctly  seen  by  the  Umpire.  They  must 
all  be  so  marked  their  entire  length,  except 
the  Captain's  and  Player's  Lines,  which  must 
be  so  marked  for  a  distance  of  at  least  thirty- 
five  yards  from  the  Catcher's  Lines. 
The  Ball. 

RULE  12. — The  Ball. 

SECTION  i.  Must  not  weigh  less  than 
five  nor  more  than  five  and  one-quarter 
ounces  avoirdupois,  and  measure  not  less 
than  nine  nor  more  than  nine  and  one-quartet 
inches  in  circumference.  The  Spalding 
League  Ball  or  the  Reach  American  Associa 
tion  Ball  must,  be  used  in  all  games  played 
under  these  rules. 

SECTION  2.  For  each  championship 
game  two  balls  shall  be  furnished  by  the 
Home  Club  to  the  Umpire  for  use.  When 
the  ball  in  play  is  batted  over  the  fence  or 
stands,  on  to  foul  ground  out  of  sight  of  the 
players,  the  other  ball  shall  be  immediately 
put  into  play  by  the  Umpire.  As  often  as 
one  of  the  two  in  use  shall  be  lost,  a  new  one 
must  be  substituted,  so  that  the  Umpire  may 
at  all  times,  after  the  game  begins,  have  two 
for  use.  The  moment  the  Umpire  delivers 
a  new  or  alternate  ball  to  the  pitcher  it 
comes  into  play,  and  shall  not  be  exchanged 
until  it,  in  turn,  passes  out  of  sight  on  to  foul 
ground.  At  no  time  shall  the  ball  be  inten 
tionally  discolored  by  rubbing  it  with  the 
soil  or  otherwise. 

SECTION  3.     In  all  games  the  ball  or  balls 


HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS. 


339 


played  with  shall  be  furnished  by  the  Home 
Club,  and  the  last  ball  in  play  becomes  the 
property  of  the  winning  club.  Each  ball  to 
be  used  in  championship  games  shall  be  ex 
amined,  measured  and  weighed  by  the  Secre 
tary  of  the  Association,  inclosed  in  a  paper 
box  and  sealed  with  the  seal  of  the  Secretary, 
which  seal  shall  not  be  broken  except  by  the 
Umpire  in  the  presence  of  the  Captains  of 
the  two  contesting  nines  after  play  has  been 
called. 

SECTION  4.  Should  the  ball  become  out 
of  shape,  or  cut  or  ripped  so  as  to  expose  the 
yarn,  or  in  any  way  so  injured  as  to  be — in 
the  opinion  of  the  Umpire — unfit  for  fair 
use,  the  Umpire,  on  being  appealed  to  by 
either  Captain,  shall  at  once  put  the  alternate 
ball  into  play  and  call  for  a  new  one. 
The  Bat. 

RULE  13.— The  Bat : 

SECTION  i.  Must  be  made  wholly  of 
wood,  except  that  the  handle  may  be  wound 
with  twine,  or  a  granulated  substance  applied, 
not  to  exceed  eighteen  inches  from  the  end. 

SECTION  2.  It  must  be  round,  except 
that  a  portion  of  the  surface  may  be  flat  on 
one  side,  but  it  must  not  exceed  two  and  one- 
half  inches  in  diameter  in  the  thickest  part, 
and  must  not  exceed  forty-two  inches  in 
length. 

The  Players  and  their  Positions. 

RULE  14. — The  players  of  each  Club  in  a 
game  shall  be  nine  in  number,  one,  of  whom 
shall  act  as  Captain,  and  in  no  case  shall  less 
than  nine  men  be  allowed  to  play  on  each 
side. 

RULE  15.— The  players'  position  shall  be 
such  as  may  be  assigned  them  by  their  Cap 
tain,  except  that  the  Pitcher  must  take  his 
position  within  the  Pitcher's  Lines,  as  defined 
in  Rule  5.  When  in  position  on  the  field, 
all  players  will  be  designated  "  Fielders  "  in 
these  Rules. 


RULE  1 6. — Players  in  uniform  shall  not 
be  permitted  to  seat  themselves  among  the 
spectators. 

RULE  17. — Every  Club  shall  be  required 
to  adopt  uniforms  for  its  players,  and  each 
player  shall  be  required  to  present  himself 
upon  the  field  during  the  said  game  in  a> 
neat  and  cleanly  condition;  but  no  player" 
shall  attach  anything  to  the  sole  or  heel  of 
his  shoes  other  than  the  ordinary  base  ball 
shoe  plate. 

The  Pitcher's  Position. 

RULE  1 8. — The  pitcher  shall  take  his 
position  facing  the  batsman  with  both  feet 
square  on  the  ground,  one  foot  on  the  .rear 
line  of  the  "box."  He  shall  not  raise  either 
foot,  unless  in  the  act  of  delivering  the  ball, 
nor  make  more  than  one  step  in  such  de 
livery.  He  shall  hold  the  ball,  before  the 
delivery,  fairly  in  front  of  his  body,  and  in 
sight  of  the  Umpire.  When  the  pitclief 
feigns  to  throw  the  ball  to  a  base  he  must 
resume  the  above  position  and  pause  momen 
tarily  before  delivering  the  ball  to  the  bat. 
The  Batsmen's  Positions — Order  of  Batting. 

RULE  19. — The  batsmen  must  take  their 
positions  within  the  Batsmen's  Lines,  as  de 
fined  in  Rule  9,  in  the  order  in  which  they 
are  named  on  the  score, which  must  contain 
the  batting  order  of  both  nines,  and  be  sub 
mitted  by  the  Captains  of  the  opposing  teams 
to  the  Umpire  before  the  game,  and  when 
approved  by  him  THIS  SCORE  must  be  fol 
lowed  except  in  the  case  of  a  substitute 
player,  in  which  case  the  substitute  must 
take  the  place  of  the  original  player  in  the 
batting  order.  After  the  first  inning  the 
first  striker  in  each  inning  shall  be  the  bats 
man  whose  name  follows  that  of  the  last  man 
who  has  completed  his  turn — time  at  bat — 
in  the  preceding  inning. 

RULE  20.  SECTION  i. — When  their  side 
goes  to  the  bat  the  players  must  immediately 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


return  to  and  seat  themselves  upon  the 
players'  bench,  and  remain  there  until  the 
side  is  put  out,  except  when  batsman  or  base 
runner.  All  bats  not  in  use  must  be  kept  in 
the  bat  racks,  and  the  two  players  next  suc 
ceeding  the  batsin;  n,  in  the  order  in  which 
they  are  named  in  the  score,  must  be  ready 
with  bat  in  hand,  to  promptly  take  position 
as  batsman ;  provided,  that  the  Captain  and 
one  assistant  only  may  occupy  the  space  be 
tween  the  players'  lines  and  the  Captain's 
lines  to  coach  base  runners. 

SECTION  2.  No  player  of  the  side  at  bat, 
except  when  Batsman,  shall  occupy  any  por 
tion  of  the  space  within  the  Catcher's  Lines, 
as  denned  in  Rule  6.  The  triangular  space 
behind  the  Home  Base  is  reserved  for  the 
exclusive  use  of  the  Umpire,  Catcher  and 
Batsman,  and  the  Umpire  must  prohibit  any 
player  of  the  side  "at  bat"  from  crossing  the 
same  at  any  time  while  the  ball  is  in  the 
hands  of,  or  passing  between,  the  Pitcher  and 
Catcher,  while  standing  in  their  positions. 

SECTION  3.  The  players  of  the  side  "at 
bat"  must  occupy  the  portion  of  the  field 
allotted  them,  but  must  speedily  vacate 
any  portion  thereof  that  may  be  in  the  way 
of  the  ball,  or  of  any  Fielder  attempting  to 
catch  or  field  it. 

Players'  Benches. 

RULE  21. — The  Players'  Benches  must  be 
furnished  by  the  Home  Club,  and  placed 
upon  a  portion  of  the  ground  outside  the 
Players'  Lines.  They  must  be  twelve  feet  in 
length,  and  must  be  immovably  fastened  to 
.the  ground.  At  the  end  of  each  bench  must 
'be  immovably  fixed  n.  bat  rack,  with  fixtures 
for  holding  twenty  bats;  one  such  rack  must 
be  designated  for  the  exclusive  use  of  the 
Visiting  Club,  and  the  other  for  the  exclusive 
use  of  the  Home  Club. 

The  Game. 

RULE  22.     SECTION  i. — Everv  Champion 


ship  Game  must  be  commenced  not  latei 
than  two  hours  before  sunset. 

SECTION  2.  A  Game  shall  consist  o  f  nine 
innings  to  each  contest:  e  nine,  except  that, 

(a)  If  the  side  first  at  oat  scores  less  runs 
in  nine  innings  than  the  other  side  has 
scored  in  eight  innings,  the  game  shall  then 
terminate. 

(£)  If  the  side  last  at  bat  in  the  ninth  in 
ning  scores  the  winning  run  before  the  third 
man  is  out,  the  game  shall  terminate. 

A  Tie  Game. 

RULE  23. — If  the  score  be  a  tie  at  the  end 
of  nine  innings  to  each  side,  play  shall  only 
be  continued  until  the  side  firs1:  at  bat  shall 
have  scored  one  or  more  runs  than  the  other 
side^  in  an  equal  number  of  innings,  or  until 
the  other  side  shall  score  one  or  more  runs 
than  the  side  first  at  bat. 

A  Drawn  Game. 

RULE  24. — A  Drawn  Game  shall  be  de 
clared  by  the  Umpire  when  he  terminates  a 
game  on  account  of  darkness  or  rain,  aftel 
five  equal  innings  have  been  played,  if  the 
score  at  the  time  is  equal  on  the  last  even 
innings  played;  but  if  the  side  that  went 
second  to  bat  is  then  at  the  bat,  and  has 
scored  the  same  number  of  runs  as  the  other 
side,  the  Umpire  shall  declare  the  game 
drawn  without  regard  to  the  score  of  the  last 
equal  innings. 

A  Called  Game. 

RULE  25. — If  the  Umpire  calls  "Game" 
on  account  of  darkness  or  rain  at  any  time 
after  five  innings  have  been  completed  by 
both  sides,  the  score  shall  be  that  of  the  last 
equal  innings  played,  unless  the  side  second 
at  bat  shall  have  scored  one  or  more  runs 
than  the  side  first  at  bat,  in  which  case  the 
score  of  the  game  shall  be  the  total  number 
of  rims  made. 


HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS. 


A  Forfeited  Game. 

RULE  26. — A  forfeited  game  shall  be  de 
clared  by  the  Umpire  in  favor  of  the  club  not 
in  fault,  at  the  request  of  such  club,  in  the 
following  cases : 

SECTION  i.  If  the  nine  of  a  club  fail  to 
appear  upon  a  field,  or  being  upon  field,  fail 
to  begin  the  game  within  five  minutes  after 
the  Umpire  has  called  "Play"  at  the  hour 
appointed  for  the  beginning  of  the  game, 
unless  such  delay  in  appearing  or  in  com 
mencing  the  game  be  unavoidable. 

SECTION  2.  If,  after  the  game  has  begun, 
one  side  refuses  or  fails  to  continue  playing, 
unless  such  game  has  been  suspended  or  ter 
minated  by  the  Umpire. 

SECTION  3.  If,  after  play  has  been  sus 
pended  by  the  Umpire,  one  side  fails  to  re 
sume  playing  within  one  minute  after  the 
Umpire  has  called  "  Play." 

SECTION  4.  If,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
Umpire,  any  one  of  these  rules  is  wilfullv 
violated. 

SECTION  5.  If,  after  ordering  the  re 
moval  of  a  player,  as  authorized  by  Rule  57, 
Section  5,  said  order  is  not  obeyed  within 
five  minutes. 

SECTION  6.     In  case  the  Umpire  declares 
a  game  forfeited,  he  shall  transmit  a  written 
notice  thereof  to  the  President  of  the  Asso 
ciation  within  twenty-four  hours  thereafter. 
No  Game. 

RFLE  27. — "No  Game"  shall  be  declared 
by  the  Umpire  if  he  shall  terminate  play  on 
account  of  rain  or  darkness,  before  five  in- 
aings  on  each  side  are  completed. 
Substitutes. 

RULE  28. — SECTION  i.  In  every  cham 
pionship  game  each  team  shall  be  required 
to  have  present  on  the  field,  in  uniform,  at 
least  two  or  more  substitute  players. 

SECTlon  2.  Two  players,  whose  names 
must  be  printed  on  the  score  card  as  extra 


players,  may  be  substituted  at  any  time  by 
either  club,  but  no  other  player  so  retired 
shall  thereafter  participate  in  the  game.  In 
addition  therrrx  ?  substitute  may  be  allowed 
at  any  time  in  place  of  a  player  disabled  in 
the  game  then  being  played,  by  reason  of  ill 
ness  or  injury,  of  the  nature  and  extent  of 
which  the  Umpire  shall  be  the  sole  judge. 

SECTION  3.  The  Base  Runner  shall  not 
have  a  substitute  run  for  him,  except  by  con 
sent  of  the  Captains  of  the  contesting  teams. 

Choice  of  Innings — Condition  of  Ground, 

RULE  29. — The  choice  of  innings  shall  b$ 
given  to  the  Captain  of  the  Home  Club,  whc 
shall  also  be  the  sole  judge  of  the  fitness  ol 
the  ground  for  beginning  a  game  after  rain, 

The  Delivery  of  the  Ball— Fair  and 
Unfair  Balls. 

RULE  30. — A  Fair  Ball  is  a  ball  delivered 
by  the  Pitcher  while  standing  wholly  within 
the  lines  of  his  position,  and  facing  the  Bats 
man,  the  ball  so  delivered,  to  pass  over  the 
Home  Base,  not  lower  than  a  Batsman's 
knee,  nor  higher  than  his  shoulder. 

RULE  31. — An  Unfair  Ball  is  a  ball  de 
livered  by  the  Pitcher,  as  in  Rule  30,  except 
that  the  ball  does  not  pass  over  the  Home 
Base,  or  does  pass  over  the  Home  Base, 
above  the  Batsman's  shoulder,  or  below  the 
knee. 

Balking. 

RULE  33. — A  Balk  is: 

SECTION  i.  Any  motion  made  by  the 
Pitcher  to  deliver  the  ball  to  the  bat  without 
delivering  it,  and  shall  be  held  to  include- 
any  and  every  accustomed  motion  with  the 
hands,  arms  or  feet,  or  position  of  the  body 
assumed  by  the  Pitcher  in  his  delivery  of  the 
ball  and  any  motion  calculated  to  deceive  a 
base  runner,  except  the  ball  be  accidently 
dropped. 

SECTION  2.     The  holding  of  the  ball  by 


342 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


Pitcher  so  long  as  to  delay  the  game  un- 
siecessarily ;  or 

SECTION  3.  Any  motion  to  deliver  the 
'ball,  or  the  delivering  the  ball  to  the  bat  by 
2he  Pitcher  when  any  part  of  his  person  is 
upon  the  ground  outside  of  the  lines  of  his 
position,  including  all  preliminary  motions 
with  the  hands,  arms,  and  feet. 
Dead  Balls. 

RULE  33. — A  Dead  Ball  is  a  ball  delivered 
to  the  bat  by  <ke  Pitcher  that  touches  the 
Batsman's  bat  without  being  struck  at,  or 
any  part  of  the  Batsman's  person  or  clothing 
while  standing  in  his  position  without  being 
struck  at ;  or  any  part  of  the  Umpire's  per 
son  or  clothing,  while  on  foul  ground,  with 
out  first  passing  the  Catcher. 

RULE  34. — In  case  of  a  Foul  Strike,  Foul 
Hit  ball  not  legally  caught  out,  Dead  Ball. 
or  Base  Runner  put  out  for  being  struck  by 
a  fair  hit  ball,  the  ball  shall  not  be  con 
sidered  in  play  until  it  is  held  by  the  Pitoher 
Standing  in  his  position. 

Block  Balls. 

RULE  35. — SECTION  i.  A  Block  is  a 
batted  or  thrown  ball  that  is  stopped  or 
handled  by  any  person  not  engaged  in  the 
game. 

SECTION  2.  Whenever  a  Block  occurs 
the  Umpire  shall  declare  it,  and  Base  Run 
ners  may  run  the  bases,  without  being  put 
out,  until  the  ball  has  been  returned  to  and 
held  by  the  Pitcher  standing  in  his  position. 

SECTION  3.  In  the  case  of  a  Block,  if  the 
person  not  engaged  in  the  game  should  re 
tain  possession  of  the  ball,  or  throw  or  kick 
it  beyond  the  reach  of  the  Fielders,  the  Um 
pire  should  call  "Time,"  and  require  each 
Base  Runner  to  stop  at  the  last  base  touched 
by  him  until  the  ball  be  returned  to  the 
Pitcher  standing  in  his  position.  The  game 
then  proceeds  in  the  ordinary  way,  as  if  no 
block  had  occurred. 


The  Scoring-  of  Rims. 

RULE  36. — One  Run  shall  be  scored  every 
time  a  Base  Runner,  after  having  legally 
touched  the  first  three  bases,  shall  touch  the 
Home  Base  before  three  men  are  put  out  by 
(exception).  If  the  third  man  is  forced  out, 
or  is  put  out  before  reaching  First  Base,  a 
run  shall  not  be  scored. 

The  Batting  Rules. 

RULE  37. — A  Fair  Hit  is  a  ball  batted  by 
the  Batsman  standing  in  his  position,  that 
first  touches  the  ground,  the  First  Base,  the 
Third  Base,  any  part  of  the  person  of  a 
player,  Umpire  or  any  other  object  that  is  in 
front  of  or  on  either  side  of  the  Foul  Lines, 
or  batted  directly  to  the  ground  by  the  Bats 
man  standing  in  his  position,  that  (whether 
it  touches  Foul  or  Fair  Ground)  bounds  or 
rolls  within  the  Foul  Lines,  between  Home 
and  First,  or  Home  and  Third  Bases,  with 
out  interference  by  a  player. 

RULE  38. — A  Foul  Hit  is  a  ball  batted  by 
the  Batsman  standing  in  his  position,  that 
first  touches  the  ground,  any  part  of  the  per 
son  of  a  player,  or  any  other  object  that  is 
behind  either  of  the  Foul  Lines,  or  that 
strikes  the  person  of  such  Batsman,  whil| 
standing  in  his  position,  or  batted  directly 
to  the  ground  by  the  Batsman,  standing  i» 
his  position,  that  (whether  it  first  touches 
Foul  or  Fair  Ground)  bounds  or  rolls  outside 
the  Foul  Lines,  between  Home  and  First  or 
Home  and  Third  Bases  without  interference 
by  a  player.  Provided,  that  a  Foul  Hit  not 
rising  above  the  Batsman's  head  and  caught 
by  the  Catcher  playing  within  ten  feet  of  the 
Home  Base,  shall  be  termed  a  Foul  Tip. 

Balls  Batted  Outside  the  Ground. 

RULE  39. — When  a  batted  bail  passes  out 
side  the  grounds,  the  Umpire  shall  decide  it 
Fair  should  it  disappear  within,  or  Foul 
should  it  disappear  outside  of  the  range  o* 


HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS. 


343 


Che  Foul  Lines,  and  Rules  37  and  38  are  to  ! 
be  construed  accordingly. 

RULE  40. — A  Fair  batted  ball  that  goes 
over  the  fence  at  a  less  distance  than  two 
hundred  and  ten  feet  from  Home  Base  shall 
entitle  the  Batsman  to  two  Bases,  and  a  dis 
tinctive  line  shall  be  marked  on  the  fence 
at  this  point. 

Strikes. 

RULE  41. — A  strike  is  : 

SECTION  i.  A  ball  struck  at  by  the  Bats 
man  without  its  touching  his  bat ;  or 

SECTION  2.  A  Fair  Ball  legally  delivered 
by  the  Pitcher,  but  not  struck  at  by  the  Bats 
man. 

SECTION  3.  Any  obvious  attempt  to 
make  a  Foul  Hit. 

RULE  42. — A  Foul  Strike  is  a  ball  batted  \ 
by  the  Batsman  when  any  part  of  his  person 
is  upon  ground  outside  the  lines  of  the  Bats 
man's  position. 

The  Batsman  is  Out. 

RULE  43. — The  Batsman  is  out: 

SECTION  i.  If  he  fails  to  take  his  position 
at  the  bat  in  his  order  of  batting  unless  the 
error  be  discovered  and  the  proper  Batsman 
takes  his  position  before  a  fair  hit  has  been 
made  ;  and  in  such  case  the  balls  and  strikes 
called  must  be  counted  in  the  time  at  bat  of 
the  proper  Batsman.  Provided,  this  rule 
shall  not  take  effect  unless  the  out  is  declared 
before  the  ball  is  delivered  to  the  succeeding 
Batsman. 

SECTION  2.  If  he  fails  to  take  his  posi 
tion  within  one  minute  after  the  Umpire 
has  called  for  the  Batsman. 

SECTION  3.  If  he  makes  a  foul  hit,  other 
than  a  Foul  Tip  as  denned  in  RULE  38,  and 
the  ball  be  momentarily  held  by  a  Fielder 
before  touching  the  ground,  provided  it  be 
not  caught  in  a  Fielder's  hat  or  cap,  or 
touch  some  object  other  than  a  Fielder,  be 
fore  being  caught. 


SECTION  4.     If  he  makes  a  Foul  Strike* 

SECTION  5.  If  he  attempts  to  hinder  the 
Catcher  from  Fielding  the  ball,  evidently 
without  effort  to  make  a  fair  hit. 

SECTION  6.  If,  while  the  first  base  be  oc 
cupied  by  a  base  runner,  three  strikes  be 
called  on  him  by  the  Umpire,  except  when 
two  men  are  already  out. 

SECTION  7.  If,  while  making  the  third 
strike,  the  ball  hits  his  person  or  clothing. 

SECTION  8.  If,  after  two  strikes  have  been 
called,  the  Batsman  obviously  attempts  to 
make  a  foul  hit,  as  in  Section  3,  Rule  41. 

BASE  RUNNING  RULES. 

When  the  Batsman  Becomes  a  Base  Run 
ner. 

RULE  44. — The  Batsman  becomes  a  Base 
Runner : 

SECTION  i.  Instantly  after  he  makes  a 
Fair  Hit. 

SECTION  2.  Instantly  after  four  balls  have 
been  called  by  the  Umpire. 

SECTION  3.  Instantly  after  three  strikes 
have  been  declared  by  the  Umpire. 

SECTION  4.  If,  while  he  be  a  Batsman, 
his  person  or  clothing  be  hit  by  a  ball  from 
the  Pitcher,  unless — in  the  opinion  of  the 
Umpire — he  intentionally  permits  himself  to 
be  so  hit. 

SECTION  5.  Instantly  after  an  illegal  dtv 
livery  of  a  ball  by  the  Pitcher. 

Bases  to  be  Touched. 

RULE  45. — The  Base  Runner  must  touch 
each  base  in  regular  order,  viz. :  First,  Second. 
Third  and  Home  Bases ;  and  when  obliged 
to  return  (except  on  a  foul  hit)  must  retouclh 
the  base  or  bases  in  reverse  order. 

Entitled,  to  Baseo 

RULE  46. — The  Base  Runner  shall  be  en 
titled,  without  being  put  out,  to  take  the 
Base  in  the  following  cases: 


344 

SECTION  i.  If,  while  he  was  Batsman,  the 
Umpire  called  four  Balls. 

SECTION  2.  If  the  Umpire  awards  a  suc 
ceeding  Batsman  a  base  on  four  balls,  or  for 
being  hit  with  a  pitched  ball,  or  in  case  of  an 
illegal  delivery — as  in  Rule  44,  Section  5 — - 
and  the  Base  Runner  is  thereby  forced  to 
vacate  the  base  held  by  him. 

SECTION  3.   If  the  Umpire  calls  a  "balk." 

SECTION  4.  If  a  ball  delivered  by  the 
Pitcher  pass  the  Catcher  and  touch  the  Um 
pire  or  any  fence  or  building  within  ninety 
feet  cf  the  Home  Base. 

SECTION  5.  If  upon  a  fair  hit  the  Ball 
strikes  the  person  or  clothing  of  the  Umpire 
on  fair  ground. 

SECTION  6.  If  he  be  prevented  from 
making  a  base  by  the  obstruction  of  an  ad 
versary. 

SECTION  7.  If  the  Fielder  stop  or  catch 
a  batted  ball  with  his  hat,  or  any  part  of  his 
dress. 

Returning'  to  Bases. 

RULE  47. — The  Base  Runner  snail  return 
to  his  Base,  and  shall  be  entitled  to  so  return 
without  being  put  out : 

SECTION  I.  If  the  Umpire  declares  a 
Foul  Tip  (as  denned  in  Rule  38)  or  any  other 
Foul  Hit  not  legally  caught  by  a  Fielder. 

SECTION  2.  If  the  Umpire  declares  a 
Four1  Strike. 

SECTION  3.  If  the  Umpire  declares  a 
Dead  Ball,  unless  it  be  also  the  fourth  Unfair 
Ball,  and  he  be  thereby  forced  to  take  the 
next  base,  as  provided  in  Rule  46,  Section  2. 

SECTION  4.  If  the  person  or  clothing  of 
the  Umpire  interferes  with  the  Catcher,  or 
he  is  struck  by  a  ball  thrown  by  the  Catcher 
to  intercept  a  Base  Runner. 

When  Base  Runners  are  Out. 

RULE  48. — The  Base  Runner  h  out : 
SECTION  i.     If,   after   three  strikes  have 
been  declared  against  him  while  Batsman, 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


and  the  Catcher  fail  to  catch  the  third  strike 
ball,  he  plainly  attemps  to  hinder  the  Catcher 
from  fielding  the  ball. 

SECTION  2.  If,  having  made  a  Fair  Hit 
while  Batsman,  such  fair  hit  ball  shall  be  mo 
mentarily  held  by  a  Fielder,  before  touching 
the  grounder  any  object  other  than  a  Fielder^ 
Provided,  it  be  not  caught  in  a  Fielder's  hal 
or  cap. 

SECTION  3.  If,  when  the  Umpire  has  de 
clared  three  strikes  on  him,  while  Batsman, 
the  third  strike  ball  be  momentarily  held  by 
a  Fielder  before  touching  the  ground  ;  Pro 
vided,  it  be  not  caught  in  a  Fielder's  hat  or 
cap,  or  touch  some  object  other  than  a  Fielder, 
before  being  caught. 

SECTION  4.  If,  after  Three  Strikes,  or  a 
Fair  Hit,  he  be  touched  with  the  ball  in  the 
Jaand  of  a  Fielder  before  such  Base  Runner 
touches  First  Base< 

SECTION  5.  If,  after  Three  Strikes  or  a  Fail 
Hit,  the  ball  be  securely  held  by  a  Fielder, 
while  touching  First  Base  with  any  part  of 
his  person,  before  such  Base  Runner  touches 
First  Base. 

SECTION  6.  If,  /n  running  the  last  half  of 
the  distance  from  Home  Base  to  First  Base, 
he  runs  outside  the  Three  Feet  Lines,  as  de 
nned  in  Rule  10;  except  that  he  must  do  so 
if  necessary  to  avoid  a  Fielder  attempting  to 
field  a  batted  ball,  and  in  such  case  shall  not 
be  declared  out. 

SECTION  7.  If,  in  running  from  First  to 
Second  Base,  from  Second  to  Third  Base,  ol 
from  Third  to  Home  Base  he  runs  more  than 
three  feet  from  a  direct  line  between  such 
bases  to  avoid  being  touched  by  the  ball  ir 
the  hands  of  a  Fielder ;  but  in  case  a  Fieldei 
be  occupying  the  Base  Runner's  proper  path 
attempting  to  field  a  batted  ball,  then  the 
Base  Runner  shall  run  out  of  the  path,  and 
behind  said  Fielder,  and  shall  not  be  declar 
ed  out  for  so  doing. 


HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS. 


345 


SECTION  8.  If  he  fails  to  avoid  a  Fielder 
attempting  to  field  a  batted  ball,  in  the  man 
ner  described  in  Sections  6  and  7  of  this 
Rule ;  or  if  he  in  any  way  obstructs  a  Field 
er  attempting  to  field  a  batted  ball,  or  inten 
tionally  interferes  with  a  thrown  ball :  Pro 
vided,  That  if  two  or  more  Fielders  attempt 
to  field  a  batted  ball,  and  the  Base  Runner 
conies  in  contact  with  one  or  more  of  them, 
the  Umpire  shall  determine  which  Fielder 
is  entitled  to  the  benefit  of  this  Rule,  and 
shall  not  decide  the  Base  Runner  out  for 
coming  in  contact  with  any  other  Fielder. 

SECTION  9.  It,  at  any  time  when  the  ball 
is  in  play,  he  be  touched  by  the  ball  in  the 
hands  of  a  Fielder,  unless  some  part  of  his 
person  is  touching  a  base  he  is  entitled  to 
occupy  :  Provided,  The  ball  be  held  by  the 
Fielder  after  touching  him ;  but  (exception 
as  to  First  Base),  in  running  to  First  Base, 
he  may  overrun  said  base  without  being  put 
out  for  being  off  said  base,  after  first  touching 
it,  provided  he  returns  at  once  and  retouches 
the  base,  after  which  he  may  be  put  out  as 
at  any  other  base.  If,  in  overrunning  First 
Base,  he  also  attempts  to  run  to  Second  Base, 
or,  after  passing  the  base  he  turns  to  his  left 
from  the  foul  line,  he  shall  forfeit  such  ex 
emption  from  being  put  out. 

SECTION  10.  If,  when  a  Fair  or  Foul  Hit 
ball  (other  than  a  foul  tip  as  referred  to  in 
Rule  38)  is  legally  caught  by  a  Fielder,  such 
ball  is  legally  held  by  a  Fielder  on  the  Base 
occupied  by  the  Base  Runner  when  such  ball 
was  struck  (or  the  Base  Runner  be  touched 
with  the  ball  in  the  hands  of  a  Fielder),  be 
fore  he  retouches  said  base  after  such  Fair  or 
Foul  Hit  ball  was  so  caught:  Provided, 
That  the  Base  Runner  shall  not  be  out  in 
such  case,  if,  after  the  ball  was  legally  caught 
as  above,  it  be  delivered  to  the  bat  by  the 
Pitcher  before  the  Fielder  holds  it  on  said 
base,  or  touches  the  Base  Runner  with  it ; 


but  if  the  Base  Runner  in  attempting  to  reach 
a  base,  detaches  it  before  being  touched  or 
forced  out,  he  shall  be  declared  safe. 

SECTION  u.  If,  when  a  Batsman  becomes 
a  Base  Runner,  the  First  Base,  or  the  First 
and  Second  Bases,  or  the  First,  Second  and 
Third  Bases  be  occupied,  any  Base  Runner 
so  occupying-  a  base  shall  cease  to  be  entitled 
to  hold  it,  until  any  following  Base  Runner 
is  put  out  and  may  be  put  out  at  the  next 
base  or  by  being  touched  by  the  ball  in  the 
hands  of  a  Fielder  in  the  same  manner  as  in 
running  to  First  Base,  at  any  time  before  any 
following  Base  Runner  is  put  out. 

SECTION  12.  If  a  Fair  Hit  ball  strikes  him 
before  touching  the  fielder,  and  in  such  case 
nc  base  shall  be  run  unless  forced  by  the 
Batsman  becoming  a  Base  Runner,  and  no 
run  shall  be  scored,  or  any  other  Base  Run 
ner  put  out. 

SECTION  13.  If,  when  running  to  a  base 
or  forced  to  return  to  a  base,  he  fail  to  touch 
the  intervening  base  or  bases,  if  any,  in  the 
order  prescribed  in  Rule  45,  he  may  be  puf 
out  at  the  base  he  fails  to  touch,  or  by  being 
touched  by  the  ball  in  the  hands  of  a  Fielder 
in  the  same  manner  as  in  running  to  First 
Base. 

SECTION  14.  If,  when  the  Umpire  calls 
"Play,"  after  any  suspension  of  a  game,  he 
fails  to  return  to  and  touch  the  base  he  occu 
pied  when  "Time"  was  called  before  touch 
ing  the  next  base. 

When  Batsman  or  Base  Runner  is  Out. 

RULE  49. — The  Umpire  shall  declare  the 
Batsman  or  Base  Runner  out,  without  wait 
ing  for  an  appeal  xor  such  decision,  in  all 
cases  where  such  player  is  put  out  in  accord 
ance  with  these  rules,  except  as  piovided  in 
Rule  48,  Sections  10  and  14. 
Coaching-  Rules. 

RULE  50. — The  Captains  and  Coachers  ara 
restricted  in  coaching  to  the  Base  &  unner 


34° 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


only,  and  are  not  allowed  to  address  any  re 
marks  except  to  the  Base  Runner,  and  then 
Only  in  words  of  necessary  direction. 

THE  UMPIRE. 

RULE  51. — The  Umpire  shall  not  be 
changed  during  the  progress  of  a  game,  ex 
cept  for  reason  of  illness  or  injury. 

His  Powers  and  Jurisdiction. 

RULE  52. — SECTION  i.  The  Umpire  is 
master  of  the  Field  from  the  commencement 
to  the  termination  of  the  game,  and  is  en 
titled  to  the  respect  of  the  spectators,  and 
any  person  offering  any  insult  or  indignity 
to  him  must  be  promptly  ejected  from  the 
grounds. 

SECTION  2.  He  must  be  invariably  ad 
dressed  as  Mr.  Umpire ;  and  he  must  compel 
the  players  to  observe  the  provisions  of  all 
the  Playing  Rules,  and  he  is  hereby  invested 
with  authority  to  order  any  player  to  do  or 
omit  to  do  any  act  as  he  may  deem  necessary, 
to  give  force  and  effect  to  any  and  all  of  such 
provisions. 

Special  Duties. 

RULE  53. — The  Umpire's  duties  shall  be 
•515  follows: 

SECTION  i.  The  Umpire  is  the  sole  and 
absolute  judge  of  play.  In  no  instance  shall 
any  person  be  allowed  to  question  the  cor 
rectness  of  any  decision  made  by  him  except 
the  Captains  of  the  contending  nines,  and  no 
other  player  shall  at  such  time  leave  his  posi 
tion  in  the  field,  his  place  at  the  bat,  on  the 
bases  or  players'  bench,  to  approach  or  address 
the  Umpire  in  word  or  act  upon  such  dis 
puted  decision. 

SECTION  2.  Before  the  commencement  of 
a  Game,  the  Umpire  shall  see  that  the  rules 
governing  all  the  materials  of  the  game  are 
strictly  observed. 

SECTION  3.  The  Umpire  must  keep  the 
coutestiii?;  nines  playing  constantly  from  the 


commencement  of  the  game  to  its  termina* 
tion,  allowing  such  delays  only  as  are  rendered 
unavoidable  by  accident,  injury  or  rain. 

SECTION  4.  The  Umpire  shall  count  and 
call  every  "unfair  ball"  delivered  by  the 
Pitcher,  and  every  "dead  ball,"  if  also  an  un 
fair  ball,  as  a  "ball,"  and  he  shall  also  count 
and  call  every  "strike."  Neither  a  "ball" 
nor  a  "strike"  shall  be  counted  or  called  un 
til  the  ball  has  passed  the  Home  Base.  He 
shall  also  declare  every  "  Dead  Ball,"  "  Block," 
"Foul  Hit,"  "Foul  Strike,"  and  "Balk." 

RULE  54. — For  the  special  benefit  of  the 
patrons  of  the  game,  and  because  the  offenses 
specified  are  under  his  immediate  jurisdiction, 
and  not  subject  to  appeal  by  players,  the  at 
tention  of  the  Umpire  is  particularly  directed 
to  possible  violations  of  the  purpose  and 
spirit  of  the  Rules,  of  the  following  character: 

SECTION  i.  Laziness  or  loafing  of  players 
in  taking  their  places  in  the  field,  or  those 
allotted  them  by  the  Rules  when  their  side 
is  at  the  bat,  and  especially  any  failure  to 
keep  the  bats  in  the  racks  provided  for 
them ;  to  be  ready  (two  men)  to  take  position 
as  Batsmen,  and  to  remain  upon  the  Players' 
Bench,  except  when  otherwise  required  by 
the  Rules. 

SECTION  2.  Any  attempt  by  players  of 
the  side  at  bat,  by  calling  to  a  Fielder,  other 
than  the  one  designated  by  his  Captain,  to 
field  a  ball,  or  by  any  other  equally  disreput 
able  means  seeking  to  disconcert  a  Fielder. 

SWIMMING  AND  COLD  BATHS. 

The  art  of  swimming  and  the  habit  of  tak 
ing  cold  baths  did  not  originate  from  the 
progress  of  civilization.  Savages  have  at 
least  as  much  taste  for  these  things  as  the 
inhabitants  of  civilized  countries.  Necessity 
is  in  general  the  immediate  motive-power  of 
human  activity,  and  man  was  urged  by 
the  need  of  crossing  deep  waters  to  try  and 


practise  swimming.  The  inhabitants  ol  xne 
water,  no  doubt,  gave  man  the  first  clue  to 
swimming. 

With  the  ancients  cold  baths  and  swimm 
ing  were  highly  appreciated.  Homer  des 
cribes  how  the  heroes  of  Greece  refreshed 
themselves  in  rivers  and  lakes.  Herodotus 
tells  us  how  the  inhabitants  of  the  Greek  is 
lands  made  daring  leaps  from  the  rocks  into 
the  sea,  and  distinguished  themselves  by 
swimming  and  diving.  The  effeminate 
peoples  of  the  East  had  a  taste  for  warm 
baths ;  and,  when  luxury  and  effeminacy  had 
taken  up  their  abode  among  the  Romans, 
these  displayed  an  intolerable  luxuriousness 
in  their  warm  baths.  The  so-called  Chinese, 
Turkish,  and  Roman  baths  extended  in  a 
more  or  less  modified  form  into  the  various 
countries  of  Europe. 

Great  Swimming  Feats. 

But  though  these  baths  were  thus  pro 
pagated,  and,  in  some  measure,  usurped  the 
place  of  cold  baths  and  swimming  in  our 
•  part  of  the  world,  these  were  never  entirely 
forgotten,  and  in  our  century  they  have  re 
vived  with  new  force.  In  our  time  the  most 
astonishing  feats  in  the  art  of  swimming 
have  been  performed.  Lord  Byron  swam 
across  the  Hellespont ;  Clias  across  the  Lake 
of  Geneva;  Webb,  who  lost  his  life  in  the 
whirlpool  at  Niagara,  carried  out  the  won 
derful  achievement  of  swimming  across  the 
English  Channel.  Several  others,  both  men 
and  women,  have  given  the  most  foolhardy 
proofs  of  ability  in  the  art  of  swimming. 

Such  instances  show  to  what  height  the 
art  of  swimming  may  be  brought  by  means 
of  natural  disposition,  practice,  and  a  happy 
constitution,  but  it  cannot  be  obtained  by 
the  multitude;  besides,  a  general  endeavor 
to  attain  this  point  would  be  injurious  to 
most  peopie  by  its  excess. 


HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS.  347 

Avoid   Getting   Chilled. 

When   taking  a  cold  bath  or  swimming 


exercise,  one  must  never  leave  the  water  and 
again  descend  into  it  several  times  shivering 
with  cold,  as  is  too  frequently  the  practice 
v;ith  young  people  when  left  to  their  own 
discretion  at  swimming  establishments  and 
bath-houses.  This  not  only  tends  to  destroy 
the  wholesome  effect  of  the  bath,  but  even 
to  produce  consequences  endangering  health. 

The  first  effect  of  the  cold  water  is  natur 
ally  a  sensation  of  chill,  but  this  sensation 
subsides  gradually,  or  almost  disappears 
after  a  short  time — in  some  people  in  a 
few  seconds,  in  others  in  a  few  minutes — - 
and  is  then  followed  by  an  agreeable  sensa 
tion  of  warmth.  This  is  the  result  of  what 
we  call  reaction — an  increased  activity  of 
the  organs  called  forth  by  the  irritation  of 
the  water  on  the  skin.  The  temperature  oi 
the  water,  and  the  length  of  time  to  stay  in 
it,  should  be  suited  with  a  view  to  obtaining 
this  agreeable  and  wholesome  effect.  One 
should  also  take  into  consideration  the 
temperature  of  the  air  and  individual  con 
ditions,  such  as  different  stages  of  develop 
ment  and  age,  difference  of  sex,  and  the 
state  of  the  health.  One  is  more  liable  to 
catch  a  cold  when  the  air  has  a  low  temper 
ature,  especially  when  lower  than  the  water. 

One  should   never  stay  in  the  water  so 
long  that  shivering  sets  in  and  the  teeth 
chatter  with  cold;   these  are  unmistakable 
signs  that  the  due  limit  has  been  exceeded. 
When   to   Take   a  Bath. 

It  should  be  observed  as  a  general  rule 
never  to  enter  into  cold  water  for  bathing 
or  swimming  till  about  three  hours  after  a 
meal,  and  not  immediately  after  having 
taken  exhausting  exercise,  or  when  panting 
for  breath.  It  is  very  objectionable,  and  even 
dangerous,  to  take  a  cold  bath  when  feeling 
cold;  in  fact,  one  should  never  enter  the  cold 


348 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG, 
the    body   is    below    normal 


water   when 
temperature. 

For  swimming,  the  water  ought  to  have 
at  least  55.4°  Fahrenheit,  and  even  this  is 
such  a  low  temperature  that  great  precaution 
is  necessary 

Swimming  exercises  are  invigorating  and 
hardening,  and  of  great  value  for  the  preser 
vation  of  health  when  used  with  moderation ; 
but  they  call  forth  such  an  extensive  muscu 
lar  action,  and  throw  such  a  great  strain  on 
other  organs  besides  the  muscles,  that  their 
effects,  joined  to  those  of  the  cold  water,  may 
tax  to  the  utmost  the  forces  of  many  persons, 
even  if  not  indulged  in  for  more  than  five  to 
ten  minutes. 

It  is  beautiful  to  see  the  good  swimmer's 
daring  and  facile  leaps  into  the  water ;  it  is 


him  afloat.  Among  the  movements  that  are 
natural  to  him,  there  does  not  occur  the  one 
forming  the  base  of  swimming,  namely,  to 
bring  his  legs  together  at  the  same  time  that 
he  separates  his  arms  from  each  other,  nor  is 
he  accustomed  to  assume  the  position  which 
facilitates  floating  with  the  head  above  the 
water.  It  is,  therefore,  useful,  before  trying 
to  swim  in  the  water,  to  practice  some  pre 
paratory  movements  on  land,  first  with  the 
arms,  then  with  the  legs,  and  finally,  with 
both  arms  and  legs  simultaneously. 

The  first  essay  at  swimming  in  the  water 
may  be  facilitated  by  the  use  of  a  swimming. 


NATURAL  POSITION 

quite  refreshing  to  watch  his  quiet,  supple, 
and  accurate  motions  in  the  water,  as  in  this 
way  man  shows  himself  the  lord  of  a  medium 
which  would  otherwise  become  his  grave. 
But  these  movements,  in  order  to  be  useful 
and  beautiful,  must  be  in  harmony  with,  the 
laws  of  the  organism.  Swimming  exercises, 
just  as  any  other  exercises,  if  misunderstood 
and  misapplied,  may  prove  both  injurious 
md  repulsive. 

learning  the  Movements. 

Man  wants  a  great  deal  of  exercise  before 

being  able  to  swim,  as  it  is  not  possible  for 

him  at  once  to  assume  the  right  position  and 

make  the  right  movements  that  will  keep 


FOR  SWIMMING. 

belt,  or  by  somebody  giving  support  under 
the  chin  to  the  swimmer.  At  first  it  should 
be  practised  in  somewhat  shallow  water.  A 
good  preparatory  exercise  would  be  to  rest 
the  hands  on  the  bottom,  raise  the  head 
above  the  water,  and  perform  the  leg-swim 
ming,  that  is,  draw  up  and  extend  the  legs 
with  a  quick  movement  If,  to  begin  with, 
one  goes  a  little  bit  from  the  shore  till  the 
water  reaches  just  below  the  arm-pits,  and 
then,  turning  towards  the  shore,  quietly  per- 
forms  the  combined  arm  and  leg-movements 
as  before  learned,  keeping  the  body  in  the 
right  inclination,  and  bending  the  head 
backwards,  then  a  few  attempts  will  be  suf- 


HEALTHFUL  ATHLETIC  SPORTS. 


349 


ficient  to  keep  the  body  afloat.  As  soon  as 
he  can  do  this,  and  propel  himself  forwards, 
then  he  has  learned  the  art,  and  only  wants 
to  attain  greater  skill  by  practice. 

Mistakes  which  retard  the  attainment  of 
of  the  art  of  swimming  are:  Too  rapid 
movements,  the  endeavor  to  float  on  the 
surface  of  the  water,  instead  of  keeping  the 
body  at  an  inclination ;  spreading  the 
fingers,  instead  of  keeping  them  close  to 
gether;  moving  the  arms  too  deep  in  the 
water,  or  quite  on  the  surface,  instead  of 
about  four  inches  below. 

After  having  acquired  some  practice  and 
skill  in  swimming  forwards,  it  is  easy  to 
learn  swimming  in  upright  position  by 
means  of  making  small  swimming 
motions  with  the  feet,  and  keeping 
the  arms  horizontally  out  from 
the  sides,  slightly  pressing  the 
Water  with  the  palms  of  the  hands. 

How  to  Swim  on  the  Back. 

To  swim  on  the  back,  the  head 
is  sent  backwards,  its  hinder  part 
immersed  in  the  water ;  the  chest 
is  arched  forwards;  the  legs  per» 
form   the   swimming   motions  witn    snarp 
Stretchings  downwards.     In  the  beginning 
one  can  facilitate  the  swimming  on  the  back 
by  movements  of  the  arms,  or  by  resting 
$hem  against  the  bottom. 

After  having  acquired  some  skill  in  this 
of  swimming,  the  arms  may  be  kept 
along  the  sides,  or  with  the  hands  on 
hips,  or  stretched  horizontally  to  the 
sides.  In  the  last-named  position  they  may 
be  moved,  so  as  to  assist  in  keeping  the  body 
afloat  and  increase  the  speed. 

bnce  the  art  of  swimming  is  acquired, 
either  frontwise  or  in  backward-lying  posi 
tion,  there  is  no  great  difficulty  in  passing 
from  one  of  these  positions  to  the  other.  By 
Somewnat  increasing  the  speed  forwards  and 


stretching  forwards  the  arm  on  the  side  that 
is  below  when  performing  the  turning,  and 
a  general  good  stretching  of  the  body,  the 
turning  from  the  backward-lying  position  to 
the  forward-lying  one,  and  vice  versa,  is 
greatly  facilitated. 

The  Plunge. 

In  bathing  places  with  shallow  water  there 
is  no  necessity  for  leaping  into  the  water, 
but  there  are  many  places  with  high  shores 
where  the  only  possibility  of  getting  a  bath 
is  by  leaping  into  it  In  cases  of  accident 
it  is  sometimes  of  the  greatest  importance  to 
be  able  to  plunge  into  the  water  calmly  and 
courageously. 

General  rules  to  be  observed  when  leaping 


SWIMMING  ON  THE  BACK. 

into  the  water  are :  to  take  a  deep  breath  before 
leaping,  and  to  offer  the  smallest  possible  sur 
face  to  the  water — that  is  to  say,  either  the 
feet  or  the  hands — for  if  a  broader  surface, 
such  as  the  back  or  the  chest,  strike  against 
the  surface  of  the  water  when  leaping  from 
some  considerable  height,  it  will  cause  great 
pain,  and  may  even  have  fatal  consequences. 
To  begin  with,  the  leaps  should  be  made 
from  only  a  slight  elevation,  in  order  that 
the  learner  may  gradually  accustom  himself 
to  self-possession  when  under  the  water. 

The  leap  down  into  the  water  with  feet 
foremost  is  performed  with  stretched  legs  and 
feet,  the  heels  closely  kept  together  (so  as  not 
to  separate  when  touching  the  water),  the 
whole  !>o -1--  iv  •  upright  attitude,  the  arms av& 


350 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


the  hands  stretched  and  kept  close  along  the 
sides.  When  down  in  the  water  the  swim 
ming  movements  should  be  recurred  to  at 
once,  in  order  to  rise  to  the  surface  as 
promptly  as  possible. 

"The  Header." 

In  diving,  the  body  is  bent  forward  with 
ihe  arms  stretched  over  the  head,  the  palms 
of  the  hands  kept  close  against  each  other, 
and  when  arrived  so  far  forwards  that  it  is  on 
the  point  of  falling,  in  that  very  moment  one 
makes  a  good  start  with  both  feet,  immedi 
ately  afterwards  throwing  upwards  the  legs 


In  the  first  instance,  the  inclination  of  hw 
body  towards  the  water  should  be  less  than 
later  on,  till  it  finally  becomes  a  vertical  one. 
He  should,  however,  be  careful  that  in  the 
vertical  down-leap  the  legs  may  not  strik^ 
over  to  the  opposite  side  (z.e.,  backwards),  S3 
as  to  make  him  throw  a  somersault  into  the 
water.  The  more  shallow  the  water,  the 
more  the  down-leap  should  approach  the  hori« 
zontal  direction.  To  leap  from  greater 
heights  demands  great  force  and  self-control, 
and  should  never  be  attempted  until  assiir- 
ance  and  practice  in  taking  up  the  proper 

attitude  have  been  gained. 

When  practicing  the  stoop 
ing-leaps,  it  is  important  to  as 
certain  beforehand  the  depth  of 
the  water  and  the  nature  of  the 
bottom,  in  order  to  avoid  being 
hurt  against  stones  and  othel 
things  that  may  possibly  mak| 
the  water  unsafe. 


THREt  POSITIONS  IN  DIVING  AND  RETURNING. 

and  stretching  the  back.  As  soon  as  one 
touches  the  water  the  head  and  the  back 
should  at  once  be  sent  backwards  in  order  to 
change  the  direction  of  the  body,  and  thus 
bring  the  head  above  the  water.  After  some 
practice  the  stooping-leap  can  also  be  perform 
ed  head  foremost,  the  arms  and  hands  being 
itretched  close  along  the  sides. 

In  order  to  gain  assurance  and  precision 
a  good  deal  of  practice  is  necessary,  and  the 
learner  should  pass  gradually  from  the  easy 
to  the  more  difficult  performances;  thus  he 
should  first  da  the  leaping  from  a  lesser 
height,  then  from  Higher  and  higher  places, 


The  art  of  diving  consists, 
properly  speaking,  in  swim 
ming  under  the  water  with  re 
tained  breath  and  open  eyes. 
Diving  is  related  to  the  plunge 
into  the  water  in  so  far  as  it  can  be  exercised 
as  a  continuation  of  a  stooping-leap  by 
means  of  swimming  under  the  water  either 
downwards  towards  the  bottom  or  in  the 
horizontal  direction.  This,  however,  pre 
supposes  some  previous  practice  in  diving 
into  shallow  water,  and  should  be  done  witb 
due  precaution  and  not  with  rashness. 

Diving  whilst  already  swimming  can  b£ 
done  in  the  following  manner : — One  raises 
one's  self  somewhat  in  the  water,  stretches 
the  arms  over  head,  making  the  hands  meet, 
so  as  to  form  a  wedge  in  front  of  the 
then,  with  a  spring,  make  the  leap. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


How  to  Nurse  the  Sick. 


as  many  lives  have  been 
saved  by  good  nursing  as  by  good 
doctors.  Medical  skill  cannot  always 
save  life,  but  it  has  a  far  better  prospect 
of  doing  it  when  accompanied  by  proper 
care  for  the  sick.  There  are  those  whc  get 
well  in  spite  of  neglect,  and  there  are  multi 
tudes  who  die  just  by  reason  of  it.  Medical 
treatment  would  have  raised  them  to  health, 
if  good  nursing  had  attended  it. 

A  diseased  organ  demands  the  greatest  in 
dulgence.  An  unsound  leg  must  not  be  used 
in  walking,  running  or  jumping ;  a  disturbed 
stomach  must  not  be  tried  by  indigestible 
food;  hoarseness  interdicts  talking,  singing 
and  shouting ;  week  eyes  should  avoid  a  bright 
light ;  •  a  short-winded  person  must  not  hurry 
in  going  up  or  down  a  staircase,  or  on  the 
slope  of  a  hill.  It  is  against  this  cardinal 
rule  that  the  larger  number  of  offences  is 
committed,  especially  during  the  convales 
cence  of  a  diseased  member. 

Most  patients  find  i*  hard  to  await  qtiietfy 
the  complete  healing  and  restoration  of  an 
impaired  organ,  but  would  hasten  to  burden 
a  part,  still  weak  and  but  imperfectly  re 
covered,  with  tasks  beyond  its  capacity.  The 
unwelcome  result  is  that  the  disease  breaks 
out  afresh  and  assumes  now  a  graver  cha 
racter  and  a  more  lingering  type.  Especially 
in  typhoid  fever  do  we  often  see  a  fatal  recur 
rence,  and  no  physician  should  omit  to  cau 
tion  a  patient  convalescing  from  this  disease 
against  the  very  dangerous  consequences  of 
departing  from  the  prescribed  diet. 

TheDatien*  should  observe  a  well-balanced. 


restful  self-restraint,  avoiding  everything  a.  • 
all  out  of  the  ordinary.  It  is  surprising  ho\9 
many  persons  in  sickness  feel  constrained  to 
do  something  strangely  inconsistent  with 
their  condition.  This  may  be  thought  the 
reason,  in  no  small  number  of  instances,  why 
at  a  certain  point  an  illness  is  disturbed  in  its 
otherwise  favorable  course  and  begins  an 
advance  toward  a  fatal  termination.  It  would 
be  much  better  for  every  patient  to  remain  in 
his  room,  if  not  in  bed,  up  to  the  end  of  the 
period  of  illness,  quite  as  carefully  as  at  its 
beginning. 

Everything  furnished  the  patient  should 
be  of  the  best  quality.  Above  all,  at  night 
as  well  as  during  the  day,  the  air  of  the  sick 
room  should  be  pure  and  free  from  drafts  and 
from  dampness.  The  mattress  must  not  be 
too  high,  the  temperature  of  the  room  must 
preserve  an  equable  medium,  and  the  food 
must  be  easily  digested  and  moderately  nil 
tritive,  while  the  drinks  should  be  mild  and 
unirritating.  All  unusual  excitements  are 
to  be  avoided,  as  well  as  efforts  of  the  mind, 
senses  or  body,  glaring  lights,  loud  noises, 
and  disagreeable  odors. 

Very  often  we  find  it  to  be  the  case,  and 
not  a  little,  it  may  be,  to  the  injury  of  the 
patient,  that  he  is  either  greatly  overfed,  0; 
that  nearly  all  nourishment  is  withheld  frorr, 
him.  Generally  the  rule  is  to  give  littit 
food  at  a  time  and  to  repeat  it  frequently. 
Food  prepared  for  the  sick  should  always  be 
of  the  best  quality  and  cooked  with  the  ut 
most  care.  The  nurse  should  bear  in  mind 
that  her  task  is  that  of  supplementing  an  im- 


352 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


paired  digestion.  Food  should  be  served  at 
regular  intervals,  and  speedily  removed  if  not 
promptly  eaten. 

Soap  and  Water. 

Under  no  circumstances  may  the  sick 
room  be  allowed  to  go  unaired,  the  patient's 
linen  to  remain  long  without  changing,  or  his 
body  to  stand  in  need  of  bathing.  In  nearly 
every  complaint  the  functions  of  the  skin 
are  subject  to  more  or  less  disturbance,  and 
in  many  grave  diseases  it  is  through  this 
channel  almost  exclusively  that  nature  finds 
means  of  relief.  The  poisonous  excretions 
are  merely  thrown  out  by  the  skin,  not 
carried  away  from  its  surface.  Nothing  but 
soap  and  water  can  effect  that.  If  we  permit 
a  sick  person  to  remain  unwashed,  or  his 
clothing  to  be  worn  after  it  has  become 
saturated  with  perspiration,  we  interfere  just 
as  much  with  the  natural  processes  of  tissue 
change  as  if  a  slow  poison  were  given  by  the 
mouth :  the  only  difference  lies  in  the  less 
rapid  action  of  the  former. 

Special  care  should  be  observed  in  the  use 
of  water  for  bathing  in  the  case  of  persons 
suffering  from  debility,  the  result  of  sickness 
or  of  age.  In  such  persons  it  is  often  seen 
that  a  bath,  such  as  was  used  with  benefit  in 
robust  health  or  in  younger  years,  is  followed 
now  by  palpitation  of  the  heart,  slackened 
pulse,  more  or  less  vertigo,  shivering,  and 
other  feelings  of  discomfort,  lasting  for  some 
time  after  its  use.  In  ordinary  cases  it  may 
be  accepted  as  a  good  rule  that  whenever  a 
bath,  hot,  tepid,  or  cold,  is  followed  by  a 
*ense  of  oppression,  or  by  inconvenience  of 
any  kind,  it  has  done,  not  good,  but  harm. 

Distressing-  Bed-Sores. 

Baths,  more  especially  tepid  and  cool  ones, 
are  often  employed  by  physicians  in  the  re 
duction  of  temperature.  In  long-continued 
illnesses  the  phystcian  and  nurse  must  pay 


particular  attention,  during  the  patient's 
bath  and  the  change  of  his  bed-linen,  to  the 
condition  of  his  back  and  hips,  in  order  to 
ascertain  if  bed-sores  exist,  and,  should  they 
discover  the  reddish  discoloration  which 
marks  the  appearance  of  these  distressing 
ulcers,  appropriate  treatment  must  at  once 
be  instituted.  The  time  consumed  by  a 
patent's  bath  should  not  be  unduly  pro- 
longe^",  :iud  the  same  is  to  be  said  in  regard 
to  thin-skinned  individuals  when  in  health. 
As  soon  as  a  chilly  feeling  arises  the  bath 
should  come  to  an  end. 

When  a  bath  is  objectionable,  the  best 
substitute  is  found  in  chafing,  wrapping  in 
wet  towels,  or  in  sponging  followed  by 
thorough  drying.  In  severely  painful  affec 
tions  of  the  chest  or  abdomen  the  earliest 
relief  may  often  be  obtained  by  means  of  a 
Priesnitz  Dressing.  For  this  purpose  a  sheet 
is  folded  neatly  and  evenly  to  the  width  of 
the  body,  and  one  end  of  it  is  dipped  in 
water  and  wrung  out  until  it  ceases  drip 
ping;  then  the  wet  half  is  applied  to  the 
chest  or  abdomen,  and  the  whole  sheet  is 
wound  as  tightly  as  possible  about  the  body, 
so  that  the  dry  portion  overlies  the  wet  por 
tion.  By  this  means  an  agreeable  warmth  is 
established  for  three  or  four  hours. 
Scrupulous  Cleanliness. 

Ol  still  greater  importance  than  Jie 
cleansing  of  the  skin  is  that  of  the  mucous 
membranes  as  a  measure  ^f  precaution 
against  the  adhesion  of  disease  germs  as  well 
as  against  digestive  disturbances.  If  the 
patient  is  unable  to  cleanse  his  own  nose, 
mouth  and  pharynx,  some  one  else  should 
do  this  for  him,  by  wiping  off  the  membrane 
of  these  regions  as  carefully  as  possible  with 
a  sponge  or  pledget  dipped  in  the  disinfec 
tant  solution  the  doctor  has  ordered.  The 
cloths  or  sponger  '-".sed  for  this  purpose  should 
be  immediately  burned. 


HOW  TO  NURSE  THE  SICK. 


355 


Spittoons  and  chamber-vessels  require  thor 
ough  cleansing.  As  soon  as  possible  after 
use  the  contents  of  these  vessels  should  be 
•disinfected  and  emptied. 

Every  appurtenance  of  the  sick-chamber, 
and  especially  the  patient's  bed,  unless  some 
reason  exist  to  the  contrary,  must  be  sub 
jected  once  or  more  each  day  to  a  thorough 
cleaning,  and  later  on  to  frequent  disinfec 
tion.  If  possible,  the  patient  should  be  trans 
ferred  for  about  an  hour  during  this  pro 
cess  to  another  room  already  cleaned  and 
aired.  Meanwhile  all  the  windows  of  the 
sick-room  are  to  be  opened  as  widely  as  pos 
sible  in  order  to  effect  an  energetic  ventila 
tion.  The  bed  must  then  be  taken  com 
pletely  apart  and  the  mattresses,  pillows,  and 
bed-clothing  either  renewed  or  turned,  or  at 
any  rate  thoroughly  and  individually  aired. 

None  but  light  blankets  should  be  used  as 
a  covering  for  the  sick.  Weak  patients  are 
invariably  distressed  by  the  weight  of  bed- 
clothing,  which  often  prevents  sound  sleep. 
The  bed  should  not  stand  too  high  to  allow 
of  the  patient's  leaving  it  and  moving  about, 
when  the  physician  permits.  It  should  not 
be  placed  in  a  corner,  but  should  stand  as 
nearly  as  possible  in  the  middle  of  a  large 
room,  so  that  the  patient  shall  receive  air 
and  softer  light  Directly  from  their  sources. 
Bed-  curtains  are  accordingly  inadmissible. 

Big  Doses  of  Sunshine. 

If  possible,  the  sick-chamber  should  be  that 
room  in  the  house  into  which  the  sunshine 
has  the  readiest  entrance ;  and  if  the  bed  can 
be  so  placed  that  its  occupant  sees  a  stretch 
of  blue  sky,  so  much  the  better  will  it  be. 
If  the  patient  can  see  out  of  two  windows 
instead  of  one,  he  will  be  twice  as  well  off. 
It  is  found  in  all  hospitals  that  rooms  which 
admit  the  sunlight  have  fewer  deaths,  all 
other  things  considered,  than  those  upon  the 

shady  side  of  the  building;  and,  where  sta- 
23 


tistics  have  been  kept  for  a  period  of 
it  is  found  that  the  average  time  for  recovery 
is  earlier  upon  the  sunny  side  than  upon  the 
shady.  Furthermore,  it  has  been  shown  that 
in  asylums,  prisons,  and  other  institutions, 
more  of  the  inmates  become  ill  who  are  com 
pelled  to  reside  upon  the  shady  side  of  the 
building  than  of  those  who  live  on  the  sunny 
side. 

The  intelligent  reader  will  remember  the 
sad  variety  of  idiocy,  called  "cretinism," 
which  is  found  so  commonly  upon  the 
sides  of  deep  valleys  in  Switzerland,  where 
the  sun  has  no  freedom  of  access ;  a  form  of 
mental  disease  wholly  unknown  upon  the 
opposite  sides  of  such  valleys,  more  favored 
by  the  sunlight.  These  statements  plainly 
demonstrate  the  value  of  sunshine,  and  he 
must  indeed  be  very  unwise,  who  neglects 
to  apply  his  knowledge  of  its  importance  to 
the  affairs  of  everyday  life.  There  are  a  few 
diseases,  such  as  certain  affections  of  the  eye 
or  brain,  in  which  a  subdued  light  is  required 
for  a  time.  But  even  in  these  a  room  on  the 
sunny  side  of  the  house,  with  suitable  cur 
tains  at  the  windows,  is  usually  to  be  IM»* 
ferred  to  one  upon  the  shady  side. 

Importance  of  Sleep. 

A  sick  person  should  never  under  anj 
circumstances  be  awakened  from  sleep  with 
out  the  sanction  of  the  physician.  Once 
awakened  after  a  short  nap,  a  patient  can 
rarely  fall  asleep  again ;  while,  had  he  slept 
a  few  hours  before  being  aroused,  he  might 
have  fallen  asleep  again  in  a  few  v.iinutes 
with  little  effort. 

As  a  rule  visitors  should  be  excluded,  and 
only  those  admitted  who  are  congenial  to 
the  patient  and  whose  pleasant  and  friendly 
faces  seem  therefore  to  exercise  a  beneficial 
influence  over  him.  In  like  manner  he 
should  be  surrounded  only  by  agreeable 
objects,  such,  for  instance,  as  his  favorite 


354 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


fiowers.  For  protection  from  the  annoyance 
of  flies  and  mosquitoes  screens  should  be 
osed  in  spite  of  their  slight  interference 
with  ventilation.  If  other  measures  are 
.found  necessary  against  mosquitoes,  an 
.effective  preparation  may  be  supplied  in 
.the  balsamic  "essence  of  pennyroyal,"  a 
vial  of  which  is  to  be  left  hanging  un 
corked  above  the  bed.  The  pain  and  red 
ness  of  the  skin  which  result  from  the  bite 
of  a  mosquito  disappear  at  once  upon  the 
application  of  spirits  of  ammonia,  or,  still 
better,  of  the  anisated  spirits  of  ammonia. 

Noises,  and  especially  startling  noises, 
ought  most  carefully  to  be  guarded  against. 
A  good  nurse  will  see  that  no  door  opens 
with  a  creak,  that  no  window  rattles,  and  a 
very  good  one  will  also  make  sure  that  not 
even  a  curtain  flaps.  A  drop  of  oil  and  a 
feather  may  be  relied  on  to  do  away  with 
the  creaking. 

Keep  the  Miiid  Calm. 

A  sick  person  never  should  be  subjected 
to  curiosity,  anxiety,  care,  sorrow,  or  any 
form  of  fear.  As  a  rule  business  matters 
should  not  be  discussed  in  the  presence  of 
the  sick.  Sometimes  a  man  who  has  made 
no  will  before  his  illness  is  anxious  and 
uneasy  until  that  duty  is  accomplished,  but 
takes  a  favorable  turn  as  soon  as  the  matter 
is  off  his  mind.  The  less  mental  effort  de 
manded,  the  better  for  the  patient 

It  is  the  duty  of  a  nurse,  both  in  his  own 
interest  and  in  that  of  his  charge,  to  avoid 
every  form  of  activity  prejudical  to  his 
health,  every  diminution  of  his  strength, 
and  every  possibility  of  contagion.  For  the 
latter  reason  he  should  be  careful  never  to 
approach  the  bed  of  a  patient  sick  with  con 
tagious  disease,  when  his  own  stomach  is 
*mpty ;  for  such  a  stomach  predisposes  greatly 
to  contagion.  He  should  wear  no  beard, 
Should  keep  his  hair  cut  short,  should  bathe 


and  disinfect  his  person  frequently,  and 
should  often  change  his  linen  and  outer' 
clothing.  The  latter  should  be  light  rather 
than  dark  in  color. 

The  nurse  should  not  approach  the  sick 
bed  upon  the  side  removed  from  an  open 
window,  in  order  that  the  entering  air  may 
not  have  an  opportunity  of  reaching  him 
across  the  bed.  He  should  never  raise  a  bed- 
covering  from  his  own  side  of  the  bed,  but 
always  from  the  opposite  side,  reaching  across 
the  patient,  in  order  not  to  expose  himself  to 
the  first  outburst  of  contaminated  air  con 
fined  beneath  the  fabric.  In  cases  of  conta 
gious  disease  neither  the  nurse  or  any  other 
person  ought  to  be  allowed  to  make  iise  oi 
any  article  used  by  the  patient  In  certain 
contagious  diseases,  moreover,  every  one  who 
approaches  the  patient  should  wear  a  respi 
rator  before  his  mouth  and  nose,  for  this 
precaution  insures  protection  by  compelling 
the  air  inhaled  to  pass  through  a  layer  of 
cottonwool,  which  absorbs  all  germs  of  dis 
ease. 

But  a  person  so  protected,  while  himself 
escaping  infection,  is  quite  capable  of  spread 
ing  the  disease  by  means  of  his  clothing, 
and  he  should  not  fail  to  disinfect  himself 
thoroughly  as  soon  as  he  leaves  the  patient 
This  warning  refers  especially  to  persons 
leaving  crowded  institutions  where  conta 
gious  diseases  are  rife,  such  as  schools,  camps, 
prisons,  ships,  and  hospitals. 

Danger  of  Overdosing:. 

A  judicious  physician  will  limit  the  amount 
of  medication  to  the  smallest  possible  quan 
tity.  On  the  other  hand  it  is  the  part  of 
wisdom  for  the  patient  to  follow  carefully  the 
doctor's  instructions  and  to  avoid  any  offence 
against  his  commands.  Many  drugs  are 
poisons,  and  the  patient  may  under  no  cir 
cumstance  increase  the  dose  his  physician  has 
ordered,  in  th^  belief  that  a  larger  quantity. 


HOW  TO  NURSE  THE  SICK. 


355 


of  the  drug  will  bring  him  quicker  relief. 
Not  only  do  such  capricious  acts  sometimes 
prove  dangerous  and  even  fatal  to  the  patient, 
but  they  have  in  other  instances  precisely  the 
opposite  effect  from  that  intended  for  the 
drug,  for  many  substances  act  in  quite  a  differ 
ent  way  when  taken  in  overdoses  from  what 
they  do  when  administered  according  to 
directions. 

What  is  left  unused  of  prescriptions  ordered 
by  a  physician  should  not  be  preserved,  as 
there  is  not  one  chance  in  a  hundred  that 
the  same  special  combination  will  ever  be  re 
quired  again,  unless  in  the  case  of  some  lini 
ment  or  some  constituent  of  one  which  can 
be  utilized  in  some  way. 

Beside  this,  Jiedicines  as  a  rule  do  not 
keep  well,  and  the  more  bottles  of  this  sort 
to  be  found  about  the  house,  the  greater  is 
the  likelihood  of  a  mistake  in  getting  hold 
of  one  when  another  is  wanted.  When  not 
in*  immediate  use  all  medicines  should  be 
kept  in  a  separate  closet  or  in  some  other 
well-determined  repository.  Such  place  of 
storage  should  be  wholly  free  from  dampness, 
for  moisture  impairs  and  gradually  destroys 
the  efficacy  of  most  drugs,  especially  when 
in  the  form  of  powders.  If  the  closet  can  be 
kept  under  !o?k  and  key,  so  much  the  better. 
Light  must  be  excluded,  as  it  destroys  many 
substances.  A  low,  uniform  temperature  is 
likewise  desirable. 

The  most  dangerous  persons  about  a  patient 
are  the  old  (and  in  not  a  few  instances,  too, 
the  young)  aunts  and  grandmothers  of  either 
sex,  who  are  often  the  more  importunate 
with  their  panaceas,  the  less  they  understand 
about  the  matter.  Such  individuals  would 
do  better,  instead  of  vaunting  the  infallibility 
of  their  preparations  in  every  known  ailment, 
to  examine  into  their  own  conduct,  and  to 
confess,  in  the  light  of  their  age  and  past 


experiences,  that  they  are  assuming  an  tin-  j  wjll  be  useful  in  emergencies. 


warrantable  responsibility  by  interfering  with 
and  often  by  completely  neutralising  thft 
physician^  treatment. 

Nowhere  has  the  saying,  "Deliver  me 
from  my  friends,"  a  truer  application  than 
here.  Often,  indeed,  there  is  less  of  friend 
ship  and  sympathy  than  of  self-love  and  vanity 
in  the  motives  which  prompt  this  usurpation 
of  the  healing  office.  While  a  physician 
takes  pains,  in  the  statement  of  his  diagnosis 
and  prognosis,  to  be  tender,  sparing,  and  con 
siderate,  these  obtrusive  meddlers,  in  order 
to  stand  afterward  in  so  much  the  better 
light,  vie  in  setting  forth  the  patient's  con 
dition  in  gloomy,  unconsoling  colors,  thereby 
greatly  depressing  his  mental  and  bodily 
powers  of  resistance.  Still,  the  more  repre 
hensible  their  conduct,  the  less  risk  is  there 
for  them ;  if  the  patient  recovers,  they  take 
the  credit ;  if  his  sickness  assumes  a  serious 
turn,  it  is  the  doctor's  fault 

On  the  other  hand,  much  depends  upon 
the  influence  of  sympathetic  clergymen  and 
truly  considerate  friends,  who  have  it  in 
their  power  to  set  quite  at  ease  the  devout 
and  trustful  spirit  of  an  invalid.  This  in 
direct  assistance  is  of  great  value,  for  no 
physician,  to  whatever  quarter  his  religious 
belief  may  incline,  will  deny  that  a  patient's 
recovery  may  be  materially  hastened  by 
favorable  mental  influences. 

Clergymen  and  school  teachers  in  country 
districts  where  no  physician  is  at  hand  wouk" 
do  well  to  possess  themselves,  like  captaim 
of  vessels,  of  a  certain  amount  of  medica) 
knowledge,  in  order  to  be  able  in  emer 
gencies  to  render  the  earliest  and  most  necea 
sary  aid  without  waiting  for  the  doctor'? 
arrival.  With  the  same  object  a  small  stock 
of  medicines  should  also  be  kept  at  hand, 
whose  composition  and  uses  have  been  ex- 
plained  by  a  neighboring  practitioner.  These 


356 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


A  sick-room  should  be  made  as  cheerful 
and  pleasant  as  possible.  It  is  bad  enough 
to  be  an  invalid,  without  being  shut  up  in 
a  dungeon. 

Flowers  iu  the  Siek-lloom. 

Flowers  are  very  beautiful  and  very  wel 
come  during  seasons  of  health.  A  stroll 
through  a  well-kept  garden,  especially  in 
the  early  morning  before  the  dew  has  passed 
away,  and  when  the  richness  of  coloring, 
and  the  singular  sensation  of  exuberant  life, 
then  particularly  observable,  are  at  their 
height;  an  hour  spent  in  the  depths  of 
dingles  and  green  glades,  whera  the  sun, 
shimmering  through  the  broken  boughs 
overhead,  lights  up  for  \  moment  wild 
blossoms  nestling  together  amidst  the  mossy 
roots  of  the  older  trees,  are  delights  that  we 
all  can  appreciate  thoroughly;  but  when  the 
hour  of  sickness,  of  pain,  of  weariness  conies, 
and  we  lie  on  our  beds,  feeling  as  though  we 
should  never  know  again  what  ease  and 
health  are,  then  it  is  that  the  quiet  worth 
of  our  sweet  friends  the  flowers  is  most  truly 
recognized;  then  it  is  that  the  languid  heart 
leaps  up,  the  dull  eye  brightens,  the  pale  lips 
call  back  their  color  and  their  smile  together 
to  greet  the  gentle  visitants,  as  the  door 
opens  to  admit  our  old  out-of-door  comrades, 
who,  undeterred  by  the  uncongenial  gloom 
and  closeness,  come  to  sympathize  with  us, 
to  tell  us  that  we  are  not  forgotten  in  our 
former  haunts,  and  that  our  steps  will  be 
gladly  hailed  there  when  strength  is  ours 


a<ram. 


Illness,  looked  at  even  in  the  most  cheer 
ful  light,  both  by  patients  and  nurses,  is  a 
wearisome  experience.  The  same  room,  the 
same  routine,  the  same  diet,  and  the  same 
medicines,  taken  at  the  same  hours,  are  not 
by  any  means  enlivening  circumstances; 
clean,  well-aired,  cheery,  as  unlike  a  sick- 
worn  as  possible  as  the  chamber  of  suffering 


may  be  kept,  yet  there  is,  and  always  must 
be,  a  depressing  feeling  within  it ;  something 
totally  unlike  itself  is  wanting  to  relieve  its 
oppression,  to  give  rise  to  new  thoughts 
quite  unconnected  with  it  or  its  occupation, 
And  to  supply,  as  far  as  they  can,  this  very 
need,  flowers,  tastefully  arranged,  and  well 
placed,  offer  their  kindly  services. 

It  is  such  a  relief,  such  a  positive  luxury, 
to  turn  the  eye  away  from  the  grim,  bad- 
taste  suggesting  row  of  medicine  bottles; 
from  the  sundry  biscuit  papers  that  stand 
on  the  table,  ready  to  dispense  their  well- 
meant  but  painfully  unpalatable  contents; 
from  the  oft-conned  pattern  on  the  walls, 
one  rose,  two  green  leaves,  a  sort  of  proposal 
for  a  brown  leaf,  ending  in  a  badly-formed 
piece  of  trellis,  a  white  rose  and  a  green 
leaf  at  top ;  from  the  window-curtains  hung 
up  in  their  perpetual  folds;  from  the  fire 
which,  though  partaking  of  a  family  resem 
blance  with  the  dear  old  one  downstairs, 
evidently  belongs  to  an  ill-conditioned  and 
ill-favored  branch  of  the  original  stock;  to 
turn  the  weary  eyes  and  weary  attention 
from  all  these  things,  and  rest  them  gently 
and  peacefully  on  some  spiritual-looking 
blossom,  so  unallied  to  all  earthly  trouble, 
so  suggestive  of  coolness,  and  freshness, 
and  unworldliness,  that  the  tired  brain  and 
throbbing  pulses  become  half-unconsciously 
soothed,  and  the  heavy  eyelids  droop  and 
droop  lower,  until,  as  pitying  sleep  closes 
them  fast,  she  transforms  our  last  idea  of 
our  beautiful  guest  into  that  of  the  image 
of  a  guardian  angel  watching  beside  us  and 
warding  off  all  suffering  from  our  pillow. 

And  well  may  trustful,  hopeful  thoughts 
be  suggested  by  our  mute  friends,  either  in 
their  own  simple  forms,  or  in  the  glorified 
guise  bestowed  on  them,  by  our  dreaming 
fancy — for  what  is  their  mission  ?  To 
comfort  and  good  cheer  to  the  weary. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


How  to  Give  Aid  in   Emergencies. 


[15  occurrence  of  an  accident  in  any 
well-populated  region  is  sure  to  draw 
a  crowd  about  the  victim.  The  first 
thing  to  be  done  is  to  disperse  such  a  gather 
ing,  or  at  least  to  persuade  spectators  to  keep 
away  from  the  injured  person.  A  space  of 
not  less  than  ten  feet  on  every  side  should  be 
completely  cleared,  only  those  being  allowed 
to  approach  nearer  who  are  in  immediate 
charge  of  the  operations  for  relief. 

Fainting. 

When  any  one  faints  he  -should  be  placed 
in  a  recumbent  position,  with  his  head  low, 
if  he  is  pale  and  bloodless,  but  high,  if  red 
in  the  face,  and  every  tight-fitting  garment 
should  be  loosened.  Then  he  should  be 
fanned  in  the  open  air  or  by  an  open  win 
dow,  cold  water  should  be  sprinkled  over 
him,  and  his  temples  bathed  with  vinegar, 
ether  or  cologne,  while  ammonia,  burnt 
feathers  or  singed  hair  are  held  beneath  his 
nose,  and  his  nostrils  are  tickled  to  make 
him  sneeze.  If  the  faint  be  a  deep  one,  an 
enema  of  vinegar  may  be  administered,  the 
feet  and  hands  bathed  in  warm  water,  the 
soles  of  the  feet  chafed,  and  mustard  applied 
over  the  heart. 

A  Trance. 

A  trance  is  the  most  extreme  form  of  faint 
ing,  and  the  appearance  of  a  person  in  a 
trance  resembles  very  closely  that  of  one 
dead.  Only  a  layman,  however,  can  make  a 
mistake  in  this  respect,  certainly  not  a  phy 
sician  trained  in  scientific  accuracy  and  in 
careful  methods  of  examination ;  for  such  an 
examination  soon  makes  it  apparent  that 
both  heart-sounds,  or  at  least  one  of  them, 


can  be  heard  in  a  lethargic  person,  althougl 
sometimes  very  faint  and  infrequent.  J' 
heard  less  frequently  than  once  in  five  min 
utes,  the  condition  must  be  that  of  death. 

To  avoid  burial  during  life  the  most 
serviceable  measures  are  the  prohibition  of 
premature  interments,  the  allowing  of  inter 
ment  only  after  the  beginning  of  decomposi 
tion  or  after  an  autopsy,  and  the  careful 
determination  of  death  by  medically  com 
petent  persons. 

The  treatment  of  an  individual  apparently 
dead  should  be  begun  by  freeing  him  from 
every  injurious  influence,  such  as  ribbons 
about  the  neck,  noxious  gases,  and,  in  the 
case  of  those  nearly  drowned,  from  water  in 
the  air-passages.  This  accomplished,  he 
should  be  placed  in  a  room  filled  with  fresh 
air,  his  clothing  removed  cautiously  but  as 
quickly  as  possible,  by  cutting  it  off,  if 
necessary,  his  mouth  and  nose  cleared  of 
any  obstruction,  and  an  effort  made  to 
restore  his  nervous  energy,  his  circulation, 
and  above  all  his  respiration. 

This  may  be  accomplished  by  making 
warm  applications  to  the  body  and  by 
warm  baths,  by  washing  the  skin  with 
vinegar,  by  rubbing,  brushing  and  knead 
ing  it  vigorously,  by  tickling  the  nose  and 
throat,  by  rousing  the  nerve  of  smell  with 
irritants  such  as  spirits  of  ammonia,  by  dror> 
ping  naphtha  and  spirits  of  mustard  upon 
the  prsecordia,  or  by  applying  a  mustard 
poultice  in  the  same  region. 

Especial  benefit  may  be  derived  from 
artificial  respiration  and  from  blowing  air 
into  the  lungs.  If,  in  effecting  the  latter, 
the  operator  would  avoid  applying  hi* 

357 


358 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


mouth  to  that  of  the  patient,  let  him  apply 
a  funnel,  bladder,  or  other  tube.  During 
the  inspiration  the  nose  of  the  patient  must 
be  kept  closed.  After  the  lungs  have  been 
filled  with  air,  the  chest  and  abdomen  are  to 
be  pressed  upon  and  the  air  expelled,  or  the 
patient  may  be  rolled  upon  his  back  and 
chest  alternately.  It  is  often  sufficient  to 
compress  the  abdomen  between  the  palms 
of  the  hands,  in  order  to  press  upward  the 
diaphragm  and  the  lungs  and  so  to  expel 
the  air  forcibly.  Then,  when  the  hands  are 
withdrawn,  the  diaphragm  returns  to  its 
former  position,  and  the  air  is  drawn  into 
the  lungs  again.  In  persons  in  this  condi 
tion  artificial  respiration  should  be  maintained 
for  at  least  four  or  five  hours,  the  face,  chest, 
and  back  being  sprinkled  meanwhile  at  inter 
vals  with  cold  water. 

Persons  Nearly  Drowned. 

The  most  effective  method  for  restoring 
persons  nearly  drowned  is  artificial  respira 
tion  according  to  the  method  of  Dr.  Sylvester. 
By  this  method  the  patient  is  to  be  laid  upon 
his  back  upon  a  gentle  incline,  in  such  a 
way  that  his  head  shall  lie  a  little  higher 
than  his  feet,  and  a  small,  firm  cushion  is  to 
be  placed  beneath  his  head  and  shoulders, 
or,  in  its  absence,  a  folded  garment.  Next, 
his  tongue  should  be  drawn  forward  and  se 
cured  beyond  his  lips.  For  this  purpose  the 
most  serviceable  appliance  is  an  elastic  band 
fastened  over  the  tongue  and  under  the 
chin.  • 

The  operator,  standing  behind  the  patient's 
head,  should  then  grasp  the  arms  of  the  latter 
just  above  the  elbows  and  draw  them,  with  a 
gentle,  steady  motion,  to  a  position  of  exten 
sion  above  the  head.  Here  they  are  to  be 
lield  for  about  two  seconds,  while  air  is  al 
lowed  to  enter  the  lungs  freely.  The  arms 
are  then  to  be  carried  downward  and  pressed 
gently  but  firmly  for  about  the  same  length 


of  time  against  the  sides  of  the  patient's 
chest,  in  order  to  expel  the  air  from  his  lungs. 
These  motions  should  be  repeated  in  alterna* 
tion  ten  times  in  the  course  of  every  minute 
until  a  continuous  respiratory  movement  be 
comes  perceptible.  When  this  happens  arti 
ficial  respiration  may  be  discontinued  and  an 
effort  made  to  restore  the  warmth  and  circu 
lation  of  the  body. 

Persons  Overcome  by  Gases. 

Persons  suffocated  by  carbonic  acid,  car 
bonic  oxide,  illuminating  gas,  or  sewer  gas 
must  be  removed  as  quickly  as  possible  to  a 
room  where  the  air  is  pure  and  where  the 
windows  and  doors  are  kept  open  to  secure 
a  constant  renewal  of  the  atmosphere.  All 
clothing  must  be  removed  as  rapidly  as  pos 
sible,  and  the  patient,  completely  denuded, 
placed  in  a  half-recumbent  position,  and  the 
measures  already  detailed  in  cases  of  drown 
ing  employed  to  restore  him  to  life.  If  the 
respiratory  movements  have  already  ceased, 
long-continued  artificial  respiration  can  alone 
be  expected  to  give  success. 

Struck  by  Lightning. 

A  person  struck  by  lightning  should 
quickly  be  removed  from  the  scene  of  the 
accident,  at  once  undressed  and  placed  in  a 
half-reclining  position,  and  wrapped  in  warm 
blankets.  After  this  is  done  the  measures  of 
revival  above  described  are  to  be  employed, 
and  especially  that  of  artificial  respiration. 
Some  stimulant  should  be  administered,  a 
teaspoonful  of  whiskey,  for  instance,  occa 
sionally,  or  twenty  drops  of  the  aromatic 
spirits  of  ammonia  in  a  tablespoonful  of 
water.  Burns  caused  by  lightning  should 
receive  the  same  attention  an  those  from  any 
other  cause.  Recoveries  are  on  record  after 
an  hour  of  supposed  death  from  lightning. 

Lightning  strikes  where  there  are  metals, 
or  where  water,  dampness  or  evaporation 


HOW  TO  GIVE  AID  IN  EMERGENCIES. 


359 


occurs.  Therefore  it  is  best  not  to  be  found 
near  any  piece  of  metal  during  a  storm,  and 
not  to  take  refuge  in  the  water  nor  under  a 
tree.  Localities  where  there  are  many  men 
should  also  be  avoided. 

Sunstroke. 

Sunstroke,  contrary  to  the  usual  impres 
sion,  is  not  in  all  cases  due  to  exposure  of  the 
head  to  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun.  Statistics 
show  that  prostration  from  the  effects  of 
heat  may  occur  under  shelter,  in  the  shade, 
at  night,  or  even  in  persons  who  have  not 
been  exposed  to  the  sun  for  days  before.  In 
tense  heat  need  not  be  solar,  but  may  be  arti 
ficial.  Since  the  human  body  can  cool  itself 
much  more  readily  in  a  dry  than  in  a  moist 
atmosphere,  it  may  be  expected  to  resist  the 
severities  of  a  dry,  overheated  climate  more 
easily  than  the  oppressive  closeness  of  a  damp 
arid  muggy  one.  For  this  reason  sunstroke 
is  much  more  infrequent  in  the  dry  belt  of 
the  Texan  prairies  than  in  the  lowlands  of 
India  or  upon  the  sea-coast  For  the  same 
reason  too,  it  is  especially  prone  to  attack  in 
door  workers  in  confined,  moist  factories, 
and  notably  those  who  labor  in  laundries  and 
sugar-refineries.  * 

Sunstroke  appears  to  be  decidedly  favored 
by  intemperance,  by  want  of  acclimatization, 
and  by  debility  following  fatigue  in  a  heated 
atmosphere.  Occupants  of  badly  ventilated 
sleeping  apartments  appear  to  be  oftener 
affected  than  those  who  sleep  in  purer  air. 

It  is  generally  thought  by  non-professional 
persons  that  the  symptoms  of  sunstroke  come 
on  without  any  warning  whatever.  In  most 
cases,  however,  it  is  preceded  by  pain  in  the 
head,  wandering  of  the  thoughts  or  total  in 
ability  to  think  at  all,  disturbed  vision,  irri 
tability  of  temper,  sense  of  pain  or  of  weight 
at  the  pit  of  the  stomach,  or  inability  to 
breathe  with  the  usual  ease  and  satisfaction. 
These  symptoms  become  more  and  more 


marked  until  insensibility  is  reached,  pre« 
ceded  sometimes  by  delirium.  The  skin 
grows  very  hot,  and  usually  very  dry,  but 
when  not  dry  is  covered  with  a  profuse  per 
spiration.  The  face  becomes  dusky,  or,  as 
the  saying  is,  blue.  Breathing  becomes  rapid 
and  short,  or  slow  and  sighing.  The  action. 
of  the  heart,  as  felt  by  the  hand  placed  ovei 
it,  is  weak  and  rapid  and  often  as  tremulous 
as  the  "fluttering  of  a  bird." 

In  many  instances,  from  what  is  popularly 
termed  the  commencement  of  the  attack  until 
it  ends  in  death,  the  patient  does  not  move  a 
limb,  nor  even  an  eyelid.  The  gradual  failure 
of  respiration  interferes  with  the  natural  puri 
fication  of  the  blood  in  the  lungs,  a  feet 
speedily  attested  by  the  livid,  purplish  ap 
pearance  of  the  surface.  In  most  cases  of 
sunstroke,  accordingly,  death  comes  on 
gradually  by  arrest  of  respiration,  such  arrest 
being  without  doubt  due  to  direct  paralysis 
of  the  respiratory  centres  by  the  excess  of 
heat 

A  person  suffering  from  sunstroke  should 
at  once  be  carried  to  a  cool,  airy  spot  in  thte 
shade  of  some  wall,  or  perhaps  to  a  large 
room  with  a  bare  floor,  or,  as  is  sometimes 
better,  if  no  sunlight  interferes,  upon  the 
pavement  of  a  back  yard.  Unnecessary  by 
standers  must  be  kept  at  a  distance,  for,  in 
this  as  in  every  other  accident,  the  patient 
needs  all  the  pure  air  to  be  had.  His  clothing 
should  be  at  once  gently  removed,  and  he 
should  be  placed  upon  his  back  with  his 
head  raised  a  couple  of  inches  by  a  folded 
garment. 

His  entire  body,  and  particularly  his  head 
and  chest,  should  then  be  profusely  dashed 
with  cold  water.  In  preparation  for  this 
step,  a  messenger  should  be  despatched  for  a 
good  supply  of  ice,  and  several  buckets  of 
ice-water  should  be  made  ready  for  use  as 
rapidly  as  possible.  The  ice-water  must  not 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


be  sprinkled  over  the  patient,  but  dashed 
against  him  in  large  bowlfuls.  While  one 
person  prepares  the  ice-water,  and  another 
OSes  it,  a  third  and  even  a  fourth  may  employ 
themselves  in  rubbing  the  surface  of  the 
patient  briskly,  each  with  a  handful  of  cracked 
ice  enclosed  in  a  towel. 

The  purpose  of  these  measures  is  to  re 
duce  the  temperature  of  the  body  to  some 
thing  like  a  natural  standard.  When  the 
decline  in  heat  is  noticed,  the  cold  applica 
tions  should  cease,  and  the  patient  should  be 
carefully  removed  to  a  dry  spot,  where  the 
entire  surface  of  his  body  should  be  dried 
with  towels.  If  any  tendency  toward  a  re 
turn  of  the  high  temperature  should  mani 
fest  itself,  as  is  sometimes  the  case,  even  after 
the  restoration  of  consciousness,  it  must  be 
met  at  once  by  a  renewal  of  cold  applica 
tions.  A  second  rise  in  temperature  need 
not  excite  surprise  when  we  reflect  upon  the 
amount  of  superheated  blood  within  the 
body  not  yet  exposed  to  the  influence  of  the 
cold  applications. 

Artificial  respiration  must  be  resorted  to 
as  soon  as  the  heated  condition  of  the  body 
is  overcome,  and  continued  until  natural 
respiration  returns.  The  dashing  of  cold 
water  over  the  chest  and  face  is  a  useful 
means  of  enomraging  a  return  of  the  sus 
pended  function  of  breathing,  but  the. 
mechanical  methods  are  best  relied  on  in 
the  main  for  this  purpose. 

Persons  who  are  Frozen. 

Persons  unconscious  from  exposure  to 
cold  require  a  special  manner  of  treatment. 
The  effect  of  excessive  cold  upon  the  body 
as  a  whole,  and  especially  so  in  intoxicated 
persons  who  have  lain  down  in  the  open  air 
to  sleep,  is  at  first  to  produce  unconscious 
ness,  which,  if  warmth  is  not  applied,  will 
sooner  or  later  pass  into  actual  death.  When 
excessive  cold  prevails  the  inclination  to  sit 


down  or  to  lie  down  should  be  resisted,  fox 
this  is  the  first  indication  of  freezing.  First 
a  sleepy  feeling  creeps  over  one-  and  ther> 
loss  of  consciousness  supervenes.  • 

In  order  to  restore  a  person  from  this  "in- 
conscious  condition  warmth  may  not  be 
rapidly  applied  to  the  whole  body,  but  if 
should  be  thawed  out  by  slow  degrees. 
Furthermore,  the  limbs  must  be  very  care 
fully  handled,  to  avoid  fracturing  any  one  oi 
them,  for  cold  renders  them  very  brittle. 
The  patient  should  be  brought  into  an  un* 
heated  room,  undressed,  and  covered  up  to 
the  nostrils  and  mouth  with  snow  or  pow 
dered  ice,  with  which  he  should  be  con 
stantly  and  gently  rubbed.  The  snow  should 
be  removed  as  fast  as  it  melts,  until  the  skin 
begins  to  grow  warm  and  the  limbs  relax* 
When  its  vitality  has  returned  to  the  skin 
the  snow  should  be  removed  and  the  whole 
body  rubbed  with  cold  cloths.  Only  no\v 
may  the  temperature  of  the  room  be  grad 
ually  raised  and  the  patient  placed  in  a  tepid 
bath,  and  afterward  in  a  warm  one.  From 
this  point  the  treatment  usual  in  the  case  of 
lethargic  persons  is  to  be  instituted.  The 
rescued  individual  must  be  restricted  to  a 
light  diet  for  a  day  or  two  after  emerging 
from  the  lethargy. 

Foreign   Bodies  in  the    Throat. 

It  not  infrequently  happens  that  a  piece 
of  food  or  some  other  body  finds  its  way  into 
the  back  of  the  mouth  and  lodges  there, 
being  unable  to  pass  farther.  In  such  case 
the  finger,  should  this  be  thought  best,  will 
often  be  able  to  thrust  the  morsel  downward. 
A  hairpin,  straightened  and  then  bent  at  the 
extremity,  may  prove  serviceable  in  drag 
ging  the  impediment  out.  Fish-bones  may 
be  most  readily  removed  from  the  throat 
by  swallowing  stale  bread.  The  danger 
of  suffocation  by  foreign  bodies  may  be 
avoided  by  breathing  regularly,  by  eating 


HOW  TO  GIVE  AID  IN  EMERGENCIES. 


»\  A  drinking  slowly,  by  refraining  from 
conversation  during  meals,  and  by  cutting 
the  food  into  small  pieces. 

To  Stop   Bleeding. 

Hemorrhage  is  an  accident  of  very  fre 
quent  occurrence.  In  cases  of  severe  bleed 
ing,  when  the  injury  of  an  artery  is  indicated 
by  the  spurting  of  the  blood  in  a  steady 
stream  from  the  wound,  direct  compression 
should  be  exerted  upon  the  bleeding  artery, 
either  by  a  finger  inserted  in  the  wound,  or 
by  means  of  whatever  object  happens  to  be 
at  hand,  such  as  moss,  lint,  tissue  paper,  or 
medicated  cotton,  until  skilled  assistance 
arrives.  A  more  ready  means  of  compres 
sion  is  sometimes  found  in  tying  the  limb 
above  the  wound  with  a  strong  cord,  an 
clastic  band,  or  even  a  pair  of  suspenders. 

Above  all,  a  bleeding  limb  should  be  so 
held  as  to  impede  to  the  utmost  its  circula 
tion,  the  foot,  leg,  or  arm,  for  instance,  being 
held  upwards.  Slighter  hemorrhages  may 
be  controlled  by  means  of  ice,  cold  water, 
burnt  coffee,  vinegar,  or  the  methods  of 
compression  spoken  of  above.  The  appli 
cation  of  a  compress,  however,  is  superflu 
ous,  for  the  coagulation  of  the  blood  in 
cotton,  marine  lint,  oakum,  and  coffee  is 
sufficient  for  the  stoppage  of  hemorrhage. 
But  the  removal  of  these  materials  should 
not  be  hastened,  for  this  may  lead  the 
bleeding  to  break  out  afresh. 

-'csebleed. 

In  case  of  Nosebleed  it  is  sufficient  in  most 
instances  to  fill  the  nostrils  with  cotton  or 
soft  paper,  and  to  leave  it  there  for  some 
time.  Wads  of  cotton  dipped  in  tincture  of 
iron  are  only  to  be  applied  in  slight  and  ex 
ternal  hemorrhages.  Indeed,  one  should  be 
very  careful  in  the  use  of  this  remedy,  or 
should  forego  it  altogether,  for  death  has  been 
Vnown  to  follow  immediately  upon  its  use  in 


cases  of  bleeding  from  a  tooth  or  from  the 
nose,  by  the  extension  of  blood-clots  to  the 
brain. 

Bleeding  from  the  Lungs. 

Any  person  who  has  once  suffered  from  & 
hemorrhage  from  the  lungs  or  stomach 
should  form  the  habit  of  carrying  with  him  : 
a  dose  of  gallic  acid  or  of  ergotin,  such  as  hi* 
physician  may  prescribe,  or  an  abundant 
quantity  of  common  salt,  either  one  of  these 
to  be  taken  in  emergency  dissolved  in  water. 
If  no  water  be  at  hand,  the  remedy  will  be 
of  equal  service  taken  dry.  Furthermore, 
such  a  person  should  habitually  keep  as  quiet 
as  possible,  should  avoid  hot  food  and  hot 
drinks,  as  well  as  stimulants  and  excitations 
of  any  kind,  should  prefer  not  eating  too 
much  at  one  time,  but  rather  more  often, 
and  should  live  in  a  well  ventilated  room, 
avoiding  too  warm  or  oppressive  a  tempera 
ture.  The  same  rules  hold  good  in  respect 
to  persons  troubled  with  diseases  of  the 
heart 

All  Sorts  of  Injuries. 

In  every  case  of  injury,  in  cuts,  stabs,  and 
gunshot  wounds,  in  contusions,  sprains,  dis 
locations,  and  fractures,  in  burns,  frostbites, 
and  frozen  members,  the  first  measure  to  be 
adopted  is  the  application  of  cold  in  the  form 
of  ice,  snow,  or  cold  water.  These  substances 
are  best  applied  in  an  animal  bladder  or  a 
rubber  bag.  When  towels  wet  in  cold  water 
are  used,  they  require  to  be  renewed  every 
minute,  for,  unless  frequently  changed,  they 
really  act  as  poultices  to  the  part,  invit 
ing  what  we  wish  to  prevent.  Cold  not  only 
stanches  any  bleeding  which  may  occur,  un 
less  the  hemorrhage  is  altogether  too  severt 
but  it  also  moderates  the  ensuing  inflamm^  - 
tion.  The  injured  part  must  enjoy  perfec: 
rest  and  must  be  kept  scrupulously  c^ean. 
Fractures. 

When  an  injury  occurs  to  the  lower 


362 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


Hind  it  is  thought  that  *  bone  has  been 
broken,  the  injured  person  should  lie  where 
be  lias  fallen,  unless  the  temperatme  inter 
dicts,  until  suitable  assistance  arrives.  He 
should  then  be  removed  from  the  spot  in  a 
carriage,  or  preferably  in  an  ambulance.  A 
wagon  well  filled  with  hay  will  serve  the 
purpose  equally  well,  especially  if  the  hay  be 
so  disposed  as  to  form  a  hollow  for  the  re 
pose  of  the  injured  limb.  Before  removal 
long  splints  should  be  carefully  bandaged  to 
both  sides  of  the  limb  without  avoidable  dis 
turbance  of  the  clothing.  This  is  necessary 
in  order  to  prevent,  as  far  as  possible,  the 
grating  of  one  fragment  of  bone  upon  an 
other  and  the  consequent  destruction  of  the 
soft  tissues,  which  is  occasioned  by  the 
jarring  of  even  the  easiest  riding  vehicle, 
and  which  will  inevitably  make  the  injury 
far  more  serious. 

Abscesses. 

Abscess  denotes  the  gathering  of  pus.  If 
this  occur  beneath  the  skin,  and  fluctuation 
can  be  felt  superficially,  an  incision  should 
be  made  by  the  physician  rather  than 
allow  the  abscess  to  oper  of  itself;  for, 
in  the  former  case,  the  cut  edges  will 
unite  rapidly,  while  in  the  latter  the  heal 
ing  process  will  be  long  delayed,  and  a  dis 
figuring  scar  will  remain,  as  we  so  often  see 
where  a  tooth  has  ulcerated  through  the 
cheek.  Furthermore  it  sometimes  happens, 
especially  if  the  skin  is  thick,  that  an  ab 
scess  burrows  beneath  the  skin  instead  of 
opening  through  it. 

Burns. 

To  biu.vs  unsalted  butter,  fresh  oil,  yolk 
of  egg,  or  cold  cream  should  be  applied  at 
once.  An  especially  good  effect  is  gotten 
from  linseed  oil  and  lime  water  in  equal 
parts,  or  from  bicarbonate  of  soda  with  the 
requisite  amount  of  water  to  make  a  paste. 
Over  such  applications  should  be  placed 


only  a  very  light  bandage,  not  a  thick  on«? 
which  will  generate  warmth. 

If  the  burn  is  superficial,  pencilling  with 
collodion  will  be  found  of  service  before  the 
formation  ol  blisters,  by  preventing  them 
from  forming.  Blisters  caused  by  burns,  when 
they  do  not  evacuate  spontaneously,  should 
be  opened  with  a  clean  needle  upon  the 
second  day,  and  the  tract  should  theo  be 
overspread  with  one  of  the  applications  al 
ready  enumerated.  The  skin  should  not  be 
hastily  removed  from  the  blister,  for  its  pres 
ence  protects  the  wound.  If  adjacent  parts, 
such  as  the  fingers  or  the  arm  and  chest,  be 
come  involved  in  an  extensive  burn,  mea 
sures  must  be  taken  to  keep  them  apart 
during  the  process  of  healing,  in  order  that 
they  may  not  grow  together.  Pieces  of  linen 
soaked  in  emollient  applications  should  theru 
fore  be  placed  between  the  opposing  wounded 
surfaces. 

When  any  one's  clothing  catches  fire,  h « 
should  immediately  be  thrown  down  upon 
the  ground,  so  as  to  lessen  the  tendency  of 
the  flames  toward  his  mouth  and  nostrils. 
Then;  without  a  moment's  delay,  he  must 
be  lolled  in  the  carpet  or  hearthrug,  in 
order  to  stifle  the  flames,  his  head  alone 
being  exposed  that  he  may  be  able  to 
breathe.  If  no  carpet  or  rug  is  at  hand, 
take  off  your  coat  and  use  it  instead.  Keep 
the  flame  as  much  as  possible  from  the  face, 
so  as  to  prevent  the  entrance  of  the  hot  air 
into  the  lungs.  This  can  be  done  by  begin 
ning  at  the  neck  and  shoulders  and  smoth 
ering  the  flame  downward.  Should  any 
fragment  of  garment  be  found  adherent  to 
the  burned  surface,  it  should  not  be  separa 
ted,  as  the  violence  required  to  remove  it 
necessarily  increases  the  damage  to  the 
injured  part 

Burns  by  lime,  caustic  potash,  and  other 
alkalies  are  as  a  rule  very  troublesome,  since 


HOW  TO  GIVE  AID  IN  EMERGENCIES. 


,;ot  only  removal  of  the  cuticle  or  superficial 
r.kin  occurs,  but  also  destruction  of  the  soft 
parts  beneath.  Lime  is  a  powerful  alkali 
and  rapidly  destroys  the  parts  with  which 
it  comes  in  contact.  It  is  useless  to  attempt 
to  pick  it  off,  for  the  fingers  remove  no  more 
than  they  come  in  contact  with ;  so  an  appli 
cation  should  at  once  be  made  of  some  sub 
stance  which  will  unite  with  the  alkali  to 
form  a  comparatively  harmless  preparation. 
To  accomplish  this  we  may  apply  lemon 
juice,  vinegar  diluted  with  water,  or  any 
other  dilute  acid.  These  acids  do  not  undo 
what  has  been  done:  they  only  prevent 
farther  mischief.  What  we  say  in  regard 
to  lime  may  also  be  said  of  potash,  soda, 
ammonia,  and  the  other  alkalies. 
How  to  Treat  those  who  are  Poisoned. 

The  treatment  in  cases  of  poisoning 
-equires  the  stomach  to  be  emptied  as 
quickly  as  possible  of  the  poisonous  sub 
stance  by  means  of  vomiting,  purging,  or 
the  stomach-pump.  Tickling  the  membrane 
of  the  throat  with  the  finger  or  with  the  tip 
of  a  feather  is  in  many  instances  sufficient  to 
induce  vomiting.  Usually  after  the  giving 
of  an  emetic  this  means  is  used  to  hasten  its 
action.  Common  salt  serves  a  useful  emetic 
action  when  dissolved  in  the  smallest  quan 
tity  of  water  which  will  absorb  it,  and  given 
every  minute  until  vomiting  occurs. 

Another  valuable  emetic,  particularly  for 
children,  is  pulverized  ipecacuanha,  which 
.can  be  had  of  any  druggist.  Warm  water  is 
very  commonly  used  to  produce  vomiting, 
and  so  too  is  mustard  mixed  in  warm  water. 
After  vomiting  is  begun  there  is  usually  lit 
tle  trouble  in  keeping  it  up  by  sirnplv  giving 
a  plenty  of  tepid  water. 

When  the  stomach  cannot  be  emptied 
completely  or  rapidly  enough,  the  poison  in 
gested  should  be  rendered  as  harmless  as  pos 
sible  by  chemical  decomposition  with  anti 


dotes,  by  combination  with  some  other  sut>- 
stance,  so  that  a  less   harmful   product  is 
obtained,  or  by  concealing  and  dieting  iL 
In  the  treatment  of  poisoned  wounds  we. 
may  apply  lime-water,  chlorine  water,  solu 
tion  of  potassium  permanganate,  or  actual 
caustic,  which  not  only  neutralize  the  poisou, 
but  obliterate  the  wound  as  well. 
Hydrophobia. 

Hydrophobia  may  occur,  contrary  to  the 
popular  opinion,  at  any  season  of  the  year, 
The  avoidance  of  water  is  a  very  marked 
symptom  in  man,  but  no  mad  dog  avoid- 
water.  Mad  dogs  cannot  properly  be  said  to 
foam  at  the  mouth,  but  those  whose  cheek 
muscles  are  so  relaxed  that  their  jaws  hang 
open  necessarily  drop  some  saliva  or  mucus, 
Quite  as  untrue  is  the  idea  that  mad  dogs 
always  run  straight  ahead  and  always  carry 
their  tails  between  their  hind  legs.  Such  a 
manner  of  conducting  himself  gives  to  a  dog 
the  appearance  not  so  much  of  being  vicious, 
as  of  being  simply  sick. 

Mad  dogs  are  apt  to  be  very  quiet,  slug 
gish,  and  sullen,  and  to  slink  away  by  them 
selves  ;  others,  however,  become  restless  and 
irritable,  and  bite  and  run  away.  Most  such 
dogs  lose  their  appetite,  but  they  swallow 
very  abnormal  substances,  such  as  earth,  straw, 
and  shreds  of  cloth.  Mad  dogs  all  bark  in  a 
peculiar  manner,  and  this  is  a  characteristic 
feature  of  the  disease.  Their  proclivity  for 
biting  exhibits  itself  rather  against  animals 
than  against  men,  and  sometimes  they  con 
fine  themselves  to  snapping  at  inanimate 
objects;  yet  they  do  not  always  spare  theit 
masters.  They  bite  in  a  noiseless,  insidious 
manner,  without  previous  barking  or  snarl 
ing.  Death  follows  eight  or  nine  days  later. 
The  recognition  of  hydrophobia,  it  will  ac 
cordingly  be  seen,  is  not  without  difficulty, 
and  for  this  reason  it  is  to  be  urgently  recom 
mended  to  every  owner  of  a  dog,  that,  so  soon 


3^4 


HOW  TO  BE  HEALTHY  AND  STRONG. 


as  lie  perceives  in  the  animal  any  departure 
from  his  usual  condition  and  behavior,  im 
mediately  the  object  of  suspicion  should  be 
s^uded  from  mankind. 

A  dog  who  has  bitten  a  human  being  is 
very  apt  to  be  slain  at  once  by  the  bystanders. 
This  should  not  be  permitted,  but  the  sus 
pected  animal  should  be  placed  in  confine 
ment  and  watched  under  proper  safeguards 
for  the  appearance  of  the  disease.  Should  no 
indubitable  symptoms  indicate  the  disease  in 
the  dog,  it  can  be  readily  seen  what  unnec 
essary  mental  distress  will  have  been  saved 
both  to  the  person  bitten  and  to  his  friends. 

A  number  of  well  authenticated  instances 
are  on  record  where  the  bite  of  the  common 
skunk  or  polecat  has  been  followed,  after  the 
usual  period  of  incubation,  by  symptoms  of 
rabies.  Out  of  the  forty-one  cases  recorded, 
all  except  one,  a  farmer,  who  knew  of  the 
danger  and  took  the  precaution  of  using 
prompt  preventive  treatment,  ended  in  death. 

Persons  so  injured  should  promptly  resort 
to  the  peculiar  measures  advised  for  the 
treatment  of  poisoned  wounds. 

Snake  Poison. 

Snake  poison,  which,  very  soon  after  the 
bite  of  the  serpent,  causes  violent  incisive  and 
radiating  pains,  as  well  as  a  dark  bluish  swell 
ing  of  the  wounded  region,  and  later  dizzi 
ness,  difficult  breathing,  and  stupefaction,  is 
a  colorless,  odorless,  viscid  fluid,  very  similar 
to  olive  oil.  The  poison  of  some  tropical 
snakes  occasions  no  local  symptoms,  because 
death  follows  only  a  few  minutes  after  the 
bite.  Neither  chemical  nor  microscopical 
research  has  hitherto  furnished  a  satisfactory 
explanation  concerning  these  poisons.  Their 


manner  of  operation  too,  is  still  quite  obscure. 
Their  effect  is  produced  only  by  direct  con 
tact  with  the  blood,  which  they  appear  to 
have  the  property  of  decomposing  with  great 
rapidity.  The  venom  of  a  snake  has  no  poi 
sonous  action  when  introduced  into  the 
stomach. 

The  poisonous  snakes  are  sluggish  crea 
tures,  which  seldom  attack  men  unless 
provoked.  The  effect  of  their  sting  is  propor 
tioned  to  the  amount  of  venom  accumulated. 
Whoever  is  bitten  by  one  of  them  should  at 
once  suck  out  the  wound  and  apply  one  of 
the  above  named  cauterants.  Prompt  ampu 
tation  of  the  injured  part  may  be  successful 
in  saving  life.  In  any  case  a  ligature  should 
be  applied,  if  possible,  above  the  wound,  to 
be  relaxed,  if  much  swelling  occurs,  and 
again  tightened  when  feasible.  The  instan 
taneous  use  of  potassa,  soda,  or,  still  better, 
of  a  dark  red  solution  of  permanganate  of 
potash,  or  of  the  same  chemical  in  dry  condi 
tion  used  both  externally  and  internally,  very 
often  proves  beneficial. 

The  slower  action  of  the  heart,  which  is 
indicated  by  a  feeble  pulse  and  by  other  ap 
pearances  of  prostration,  calls  for  the  free 
use  of  stimulants.  Marvelous  stories  are  told 
of  the  quantities  of  whiskey  and  brandy 
taken  under  these  circumstances  by  persons 
not  addicted  to  their  use.  It  is  often  wise  to 
give  them  freely  at  brief  intervals  until 
symptoms  of  intoxication  appear.  The  great 
enfeeblement  of  the  heart  readily  suggests 
laying  the  injured  person  upon  his  back, 
since  this  is  the  position  in  which  the 
powers  of  the  heart  are  least  taxed.  The 
house  should  always  be  supplied  with  rem/ 
edies. 


BOOK  IV. 


Business  Rules  and  Forms. 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Meaning  of  Terms  Used  in  Business. 


enc^  — Relinquishing  to  underwriters  property 
saved  fro^i  siilpwrecks. 

Abatement. — Discount ;  sum  allowed  on  payment  of 
money  berore  due. 

Acceptance. — A  receiving  so  as  to  bind  the  agreement 
to  pay  a  bill  or  draft. 

Accommodation  Paper. — The  loan  of  commercial  paper 
or  credit. 

Aurued. — Interest  or  increase  due  and  unpaid. 

Account. — A  statement ;  an  arrangement  of  debits  and 
credits  in  relation  to  auy  person  or  thing;  a 
reeo:  d  of  business  transactions. 

sicrmint  Sal^s. — A  statement  of  the  product  arising  from 
the  sale  of  goods  received  by  a  merchant  from 
another  party,  and  sold  for  his  benefit,  together 
with  the  costs  and  charges  incurred  'n  making 
such  sale. 

Accountant. — One  who  is  skilled  in  accounts. 

Actuary. — A  clerk  of  certain  courtsand  insurauceoffices; 
one  skilled  in  annuities ;  an  acting  officer. 

Administrator. — One  who  manages  an  intestate  estate. 

Adjustment. — Settlement  of  a  difference  between  two 
parties. 

Admiralty. — A  body  \vhich  controls  naval  affairs  in 
England. 

Ad  valorem. — According  to  value. 

Advance. — Additional  price,  stocks  above  par. 

Advances. — Sums  of  money  paid  by  a  merchant  upon 
goods  lodged  in  his  hands  for  sale  at  a  future  time. 
This  term  also  covers  money  loaned  by  bankers 
on  bills  of  lading. 

Adixnture. — Property  ventured  in  a  voyage ;  a  specula 
tion. 

Advice.  —Counsel  given,  n?naliy  in  regard  to  the  pur 
chase  and  sale  of  goods. 


Affidavit. — A  declaration  under  oath  made  in  •writing; 
Agent. — A  person  who  acts  for  another ;  a  deputy. 
Adulteration. — Mixing  a  spurious  with  a  genuine  artick* 
All<nvance. — Abatement,  a  deduction  made  for  variout 

reasons. 
Ambassador. — An  envoy  of  the  highest  rank  sent  to  « 

foreign  government. 

Appraise. — To  estimate  the  value  of  goods  or  property. 
Anticipate. — To  take  beforehand,  or  pay  before  due. 
Appurtenance. — That  which  appertains  or  belongs  U 

something  else. 
Arbitration. — The  referring  of  a  controversy  to  person 

chosen  by  the  parties  to  decide  It. 
Arrear. — That  which  is  behind  in  payment. 
Assay. — To  determine  the  amount  of  a  particular  uicfei 

in  an  ore  or  metallic  compound. 
Assess. — To  tax,  or  value  for  the  purpose  of  taxing. 
Assets. — Resources,  property  in  possession  or  money 

due. 

Antedate. — To  date  beforehand. 
Assignee. — One  to  whom  something  is  assigned,  ont 

who  receives  property  to  dispose  of  for  the  benefit 

of  creditors. 

Assignor. — One  who  makes  a  transfer  to  another. 
Assignment. — The  transfer  of  property  to  assignees. 
Association. — A  company  of  persons  united  for  a  per 

ticular  purpose. 
Assume. — To  take  on  one's  self  or  become  liable  fc< 

the  debts  of  another. 

Attachment. — A  writ  or  warrant  for  the  purpose. 
Attest — To  call  to  witness  or  give  official  testimony  rt>» 

quired  in  solemn  instruments. 
Attorney  (Power  of}. — A  document  by  which  a 

authorizes  another  to  act  in  his  stead. 
Auctioneer. — One  who  sells  goods  at  aa  auction. 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


Auditor. — A  person  authorized  to  examine  and  adjust 
accounts. 

Avail *. — Proceeds  of  property  sold. 

Average. — A  proportional  share  of  general  loss,  usually 
applied  to  a  loss  of  goods  at  sea ;  also  a  mean  time 
of  payment  for  several  debts  due  at  different 
times. 

A'Mard. — The  decision  of  arbitrators  in  a  disputed 
transaction. 

Bail. — Surety  for  another ;  giving  security  for  appear 
ance  on  trial. 

Bailee. — One  to  whom  goods  are  delivered  in  trust. 

Bankrupt. — A  person  who,  by  reason  of  inability  to 
meet  his  obligations,  surrenders  his  property  to 
his  creditors  and  seeks  the  relief  allowed  him  by 
law.  At  present  there  is  no  general  law  upon  this 
subject,  the  laws  of  the  several  States  regulating  it. 

Bear. — A  stock  exchange  phrase  used  to  designate  a 
man  who,  having  sold  more  stock  then  he  pos 
sesses,  endeavors  to  depress  its  value  that  he  may 
buy  at  a  low  rate,  and  so  make  good  his  de 
ficiency. 

Bill  of  Exchange. — An  order  drawn  by  a  creditor  upon 
his  debtor  demanding  of  him  payment  of  a  speci 
fied  sum  of  money  a*  *»•  dr.signated  time.  These 
bills  are  used  for  the  settlement  of  accounts  be 
tween  parties  separated  by  iong  distances.  The 
acceptance  of  such  a  bill  renders  it  a  binding  obli 
gation  upon  the  person  upon  whom  it  is  drawn. 

Bill  of  Lading. — A  printed  receipt  given  by  the  master 
of  a  vessel,  or  the  agent  of  a  transportation  com 
pany,  for  freight  shipped  by  such  vessel  or  com 
pany.  Bills  of  ladiug  are  usually  given  iu  dupli 
cate.  Such  bill  is  evidence  of  the  receipt  of  the 
freight  by  the  carrier,  and  in  case  of  the  loss  of 
the  freight  entitles  the  shipper  to  recover  his  in 
surance.  Upon  the  presentation  of  a  bill  of  lad 
ing  at  the  point  of  destination,  the  carrier  must 
deliver  the  freight  to  the  person  presenting 
the  bill. 

Bills  Discounted. — Promissory  notes,  acceptances,  or 
bills  of  exchange  discounted  for  the  accommoda 
tion  of  an  indorser  by  bankers. 

Bills  Payable. — Promissory  notes  or  drafts  held  by  a 
merchant  against  others  for  future  payment. 

Bills  Receivable. — Promissory  notes  or  drafts  due  to  a 
merchant  by  others. 

Bill  of  Rights. — A  bill  permitting  an  importer  to  ex 
amine  his  goods  at  the  custom-house. 

Bull. — A  stock  exchange  phrase  designating  a  person 
who  seeks  to  raise  the  value  of  stock  he  is  operat- 

i       ing  in. 

bullion. — Uncoined  gold  or  silver,  including  gold  dust, 
ingots  or  bars. 

1aO  Loan. — Money  loaned  by  a  banker  or  other  person, 
secured  by  the  deposit  of  stocks,  bonds,  or  other 


marketable  securities,  to  be  repaid  when  called  foe. 

Capital. — Money  or  property  invested  in  business. 

Carat. — Weight  showing  the  degree  of  fineness  of  gold. 

Cargo. — A  ship's  lading  or  freight. 

Carte  blanche. — Signature  of  an  individual  or  individ 
uals  on  blauk  paper  with  space  above  to  write  |» 
note ;  full  power. 

Cashier. — A  cash-keeper ;  the  financial  officer. 

Chancellor. — A  judge  of  a  court  of  chancery  or  equity. 

Charter. — A  formal  writing  conferring  title,  right  or 
privileges. 

Charter-party. — A  contract  by  which  the  whole  or  part 
of  a  vessel  is  let  to  a  merchant  or  other  person 
for  the  conveyance  of  goods  on  a  particular 
voyage. 

Check. — An  order  upon  a  bank,  or  banker,  to  pay  cm 
demand  to  the  person  named  in  the  check,  or  to 
his  order,  the  sum  of  money  specified  in  the  body 
of  the  check  in  writing. 

Choses  in  action. — Things  of  which  the  owner  has  not 
the  possession,  but  merely  the  right  of  action  for 
the  possession,  as  notes,  accounts,  etc. 

Choses  in  possession. — Things  of  which  one  hai  pos 
session. 

Clearance. — Certificate  from  the  custom  authoritifj, 
permitting  a  vessel  to  leave  port. 

Clearing. — Act  of  leaving  port. 

Clearing-house. — Place  where  banks  exchange  checks  01 
drafts  and  settle  their  differences. 

Closed  Policy. — A  policy  in  which  the  amount  insured 
is  definitely  stated. 

Coasting. — A  sailing  near  land,  or  trade  carried  on  be 
tween  ports  in  the  same  country. 

C.  O.  D. — Collect  on  Delivery.  Goods  sent  by  express 
marked  in  this  way  must  be  accompanied  by  the 
bill  for  them.  This  bill  is  collected  and  receipted 
by  the  messenger  of  the  express  company  befoie 
delivering  the  goods. 

Codicil. — A  supplement  to  a  will. 

Collaterals. — A  term  used  to  designate  stocks,  bonds,  of 
other  securities  deposited  to  secure  the  payment 
of  loans. 

Commerce. — Interchange  of  values  or  commodities. 

Commission. — The  percentage  for  buying  or  selling 
goods  or  stocks. 

Common  law. — In  Great  Britain  and  the  United  State*?, 
the  unwritten  law  that  receives  its  binding  force 
from  immemorial  usage ;  in  distinction  from  writ 
ten  or  statute  law. 

Compact. — An  agreement  by  which  the  parties  arc 
firmly  bound  together. 

Company. — An  association  of  persons  for  a  common 
enterprise. 

Compound. — To  settle  on.  ternia  different  from  tbt» 
original  agreement 


MEANING  OF  TERMS  USED  IN  BUSINESS. 


Compromise.-— An  amicable  adjustment  by  mutual  con 
cession. 
Common  Carrier. — One  who  makes  it  a    business    to 

transport  goods  ;  railroad  companies  are  common 

carriers. 
Consignee. — The   person   to   whom   goods   are  sent  or 

consigned. 
Consignment. — Goods  consigned  or  trusted  to  an  agent 

to  be  sold. 
Consignor. — One  who  commits  or  consigns   goods  to 

another. 

Consols. — The  three  per  cent,  funded  debts  of  England. 
Contraband. — Prohibited  ;  illegal. 

Contract. — An  agreement  based  upon  sufficient  consid 
eration  to  do  or  not  to  do  some  particular  thing. 
Condition  precedent. — A  condition  which  must  be  carried 

out  before  the  obligation  is  performed. 
Copartnership. — Joint  concern  in  business. 
Correspondence. — An   interchange  of  letters,  or   inter 
course. 

Counterfeit. — A  forgery ;  spurious  bank  bills. 
Countersign. — To    sign,    as    secretary    or    subordinate 

officer,  a  writing  which  has  been  signed  by  the 

superior. 
Coupon. — An  interest  certificate  attached  to  a  bond ; 

when  paid,  it  is  cut  off. 
Covenant. — A  mutual  agreement. 
Coverture. — The  state  of  a  married  woman. 
Credentials. — Testimonials ;  that  which  gives  credit  or 

authority. 

Currency. — Money  in  current  use. 
Customs. — Duties  on  goods  imported  or  exported. 
Custom  House. — The  place  where  duties  are  paid,  and 

vessels  enter  and  clear. 

Damages. — The  amount  assessed  to  pay  for  injury. 
Days  of  grace. — Usually  three  days  allowed  for  the 

payment  of  a  note  after  maturity. 
Debenture. — A  certificate  for  bounty  or  rebate  to  be 

paid  to  the  exporter  of  goods. 
Deb/. — What  one  owes  to  another. 
Deed. — A  sealed  instrument  used  in  the  conveyance 

of  real  estate. 
Defalcation. — A  deduction  ;   abatement  or  diminution, 

as  in  a  promissory  note. 
Defaulter. — One  who  fails  to  pay  or  account  for  money 

intrusted  to  him. 

Delivery. — To  pass  money  or  goods  to  another ;  a  giving. 
Demand. — An  asking  by  authority ;  a  claim  by  right. 
Demise. — To  convey ;  to  bequeath  by  will. 
Demurrage. — Allowance  for  detention  of  a  ship  beyond 

a  specified  time. 

Demurrer. — An  assent  to  facts  for  an  issue  on  law. 
Demurer. — An   exception   to  evidence  produced;   to 

rest  or  stay. 
Depositary. — One  to  whom  something  is  intrusted;  a 

guardian. 


Deputy. — One  appointed  to  act  for  another ;  a  repre 
sentative. 

Direct  Evidence. — Evidence  which  applies  directly  to 
the  fact  to  be  proved. 

Discount. — In  mercantile  transactions,  a  discount  means 
a  deduction  of  a  certain  amount  from  the  face  of  a 
bill  for  cash.  In  banking,  a  discount  means  the 
deduction  of  a  certain  amount  from  the  face  value 
of  a  note  or  bill,  as  a  payment  for  allowing  the 
holder  of  the  note  the  immediate  use  of  the 
money ;  the  rate  of  discount  varies. 

Dividend. — A  portion  allotted  to  stockholders  in  divid 
ing  the  profits. 

Donee. — One  to  whom  a  gift  is  made  or  a  bequest  i* 
given. 

Donor. — One  who  gives  or  bestows. 

Dormant. — Not  acting ;  a  partner  who  takes  no  share 
in  the  active  business  of  the  concern,  but  shares 
in  the  gains  or  losses. 

Draft. — A  bill  of  exchange  used  for  domestic  purposes. 

Drawback. — Duty  refunded  on  exported  goods. 

Drawee. — One  on  whom  a  draft  is  drawn ;  the  payor. 

Drawer. — One  who  draws  a  bill  or  draft. 

Duplicate. — A  copy  or  transcript  of  anything. 

Duress. — Personal  restraint,  or  fear  of  personal  injury 
or  imprisonment.  It  nullifies  all  contracts  intv> 
which  it  enters. 

Earnest. — A  pledge,  like  money  deposited,  affords 
good  grounds  for  reliance. 

Effects. — Goods  or  property  of  any  kind. 

Embargo. — Prohibition  of  vessels  from  sailing. 

Embarrassment. — Financial  distress;  on  the  verge  of 
bankruptcy. 

Embassy. — A  public  message  or  commission  ;  the  per 
son  by  whom  it  is  sent. 

Embezzlement. — Unlawful  appropriation  of  what  is 
intrusted  to  one's  care. 

Emporium. — A  commercial  centre. 

Endorse. — To  write  one's  name  on  the  back  of  a  check 
note,  or  draft. 

Engross. — To  copy  a  manuscript. 

Equity. — In  law,  qualifying  or  correcting  the  law  in  ex 
treme  cases. 

Estate. — The  degree,  quantity,  nature,  and  extent  o* 
interest  which  a  person  has  in  real  property. 

Estoppel. — In  law,  some  previous  act  which  estops  o' 
precludes  a  man  from  making  a  given  plea  or  pr*^ 
tence. 

Exchange. — Act  of  bartering ;  a  bill  drawn  for  money 
a  place  where  merchants  meet ;  a  difference  be 
tween  the  value  of  money  in  two  places,  or  ttte- 
premium  and  discount  arising  from  the  purchaa» 
and  sale  of  funds. 

Executor. — One  who  settles  the  estate  of  a  testator. 

Executory — Yet  to  be  performed. 


363 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


Exports. — Goods  or  produce  carried  abroad  in   com 
merce. 
Express. — A  special  messenger ;  a  regular  conveyance 

for  packages,  etc. 

Face. — The  amount  expressed  on  a  note  or  draft. 
Factor. — An  agent  to  whom  goods  are  consigned — dif 
fers  from  broker  in  that  the  facto"  'ms  the  custody 

of  the  goods. 

Failure. — Act  of  becoming  insolvent. 
Fac  Simile. — An  exact  copy . 
Fancy  Stocks. — Term  applied  to  stocks  subject  to  sudden 

fluctuation  in  price. 
favor. — A  note  or  draft  is  said  to  be  in  favor  of  the 

payee. 
Fee  Simple. — An  estate  held  by  a  person  in  his  own 

right  and  descendible  to  his  heirs. 
Finance. — Revenue ;  income ;  pertaining  to  money. 
Financier. — An  officer  of  finance  ;  one  having  charge 

of  the  revenue. 

Firm. — A  partnership,  trading  house,  or  its  natna. 
Fiscal. — Pertaining  to  a  treasury  or  revenue. 
Foreclose. — To  cut  off  the  power  of  redemption  under  a 

mortgage. 

Forestall.— To  buy  goods  before  they  reach  the  market. 
Folio. — Page  of  a  book,  usually  the  two  opposite  pages. 
Franc. — A  French  silver  coin,  value  about  20  cents. 
Frank. — A  free  letter ;  a  writing  which  exempts  from 

postage. 
Fraud. — Artifice  by  which  another's  right  or  interest 

is  impaired. 
Free  Trade. — The  policy  of  conducting  international 

commerce  without  duties. 
Freehold — Land  held  by  free  tenure  or  in  fee  simple, 

subject  to  no  superior  or  conditions. 
Freight. — Goods  being  transported ;  the  price  paid  for 

transit  orting ;  to  load  a  vessel. 
Funds. — Stock  or  capital,  a  sum  of  money. 
Gain. — Profit ;  benefit ;  increase  in  wealth. 
Gauging. — Measuring  the  contents  of  casks,  etc. 
Gist. — The  main  point  of  a  case ;  the  turning-point. 
Grant. — Conveyance ;  bestowment ;  a  thing  conveyed 

by  deed. 

Gross  Weight. — Weignt  of  goods,  including  case,  bag,  etc. 
guarantee  or  Guaranty. — A  surety  for  performance  by  a 

third  person ;  one  who  warrants. 
Guarantor. — A  warrantor. 
Habeas  Corpus. — A  writ  to  deliver  a  person  from   false 

imprisonment. 
Harbor. — A  place  of  rest  or  safety  for  ships ;  a  port 

for  loading  and  unloading. 

High  Seas. — Waters  of  the  ocean  outside  of  the  juris 
diction  of  any  country. 
Honor. — To  accept  and  pay  when  due. 
Hypothecate.— To  pledge  as  security. 
Import. — To  bring  from  another  country, 
Importer. — One  who  brings  goods  from  abroad. 


Impost. — Duty  on  goods  paid  by  the  importer. 

Indemnity. — Recompense  for  injury  or  loss. 

Indenture. — A  writing  containing  a  contract. 

Indorsement. — A  writing  on  the  back  of  a  note. 

In  re. — In  the  matter  of. 

Insolvency. — Inability  to  pay  all  debts. 

Insurance. — Indemnity   from   loss ;   the   rate  paid   foi 

indemnity. 
Instalment. — Part  of  a  sum  of  money  paid  or  to  be  paid 

from  time  to  time. 
Interest. — The  use  of  money  ;  premium  paid  for  the  use 

of  money. 

Intestate. — Dying  without  making  a  valid  will. 
Investment. — The  laying  out  of  money  in  the  purchase 

of  property. 

Inventory. — A  list  of  goods. 

Invoice. — A  list  of  goods  bought  or  sold,  or  consigned. 
Jettison. — A  voluntary  throwing  of  goods  overboard  at 

sea  in  a  storm  to  lighten  ship. 
Jointure. — An  estate  in  lands  settled  on  .a  woman  in 

consideration  of  marriage. 

Joint  Stock. — Property  held  in  common  by  a  company. 
Joint-tenancy. — Joint  occupancy  ',  not  so  close  intimacy 

as  partnership. 
Journal. — A  book  used  to  classify  and  arrange  business 

transactions. 
Judgment  Note. — A  note  in  the  usual  form,  with  the 

addition  of  the  power  to  confess  judgment  if  not 

paid. 
Jurisdiction. — The  authority  by  which  judicial  officers 

take  cognizance  of  and  decide  causes. 
Larceny. — The  taking  of  goods  or  other  personal  pro 
perty  feloniously. 
Law-merchant. — The  general  body  of  commercial  us» 

ages  in  matters  relative  to  commerce. 
Lease. — A  letting  of  land,  etc.,  for  hire  ;  the  writing  or 

contract  for  such  letting. 
Legacy. — A  bequest ;  a  particular  thing  or  certain  sum 

of  money  given  by  last  will  or  testament. 
Ledger. — Book  of  accounts. 
Lessee. — One  to  whom  a  lease  is  made. 
Letters  of  Credit. — A  letter  authorizing  the  holder  to  ic- 

ceive  money  en  account  of  the  writer. 
Liability. — Debt  or  claim  against  a  person. 
License. — Legal  permission  to  sell  goods  or  to  do  cer 
tain  things. 

Lien. — A  legal  claim  on  property  to  satisfy  debt. 
Liquidate. — To  pay  off,  as  debts ;    to  settle  or  adjust 

accounts. 
Loan. — To  deliver  to  another,  for  temporary  use  ;  the 

thing  lent. 

Malfeasance. — An  act  which  one  has  no  right  to  do. 
Mandatory. — One  to  whom  business  is  intrusted  or 

charge  given. 
Manifest. — A    list   of  articles  comprising    a    vessel'* 

cargo. 


MEANING  OF  TERMS  USED  IN  BUSINESS. 


Manufacture. — The  process  of  converting  raw  material 
into  articles  of  use  and  sale. 

Margin. — A  sum  of  money  deposited  with  a  broker,  in 
stock  transactions,  to  protect  him  against  loss  by 
the  depreciation  of  stocks  held  by  him  for  another 
party.  Also  the  difference  between  the  value  of 
securities  deposited  as  collateral,  and  the  amount 
loaned  upon  them. 

Marine. — Relating  to  the  sea. 

Maritime  Law. — Law  relating  to  harbors,  ships  and 
seamen. 

Marc. — A  weight  in  European  countries  for  estimating 
gold  and  silver ;  a  German  gold  coin  equal  to 
23  &c. 

Mart. — A  place  of  public  sale ;  a  market. 

Maturity. — The  date  when  a  note  or  draft  falls  due  or 
is  payable. 

Maximum. — The  highest  figure. 

Mercantile  Law. — Law  relating  to  business  transactions. 

Merger. — The  absorption  of  a  thing  of  lesser  import 
ance  by  a  greater,  whereby  the  lesser  ceases  to 
exist,  but  the  greater  is  not  increased.  For  in 
stance,  a  note  on  which  a  judgment  is  recovered 
is  absorbed  by  and  merged  in  the  ju^^ment. 

Minimum. — The  lowest  figure. 

Mint. — The  place  where  money  is  coined. 

Misfeasance. — Doing  in  an  improper  manner,  by  which 
another  receives  an  injury. 

Mitigation. — Lessening  the  amount  of  a  judgment, 
penalty,  or  punishment. 

Money. — Current  coin  and  circulating  medium. 

Money  Broker. — A  broker  who  deals  in  money  or  ex 
changes. 

Monopoly. — The  sole  power  of  vending  goods. 

Mortgage. — The  conveyance  of  real  estate  as  collateral 
security  of  a  debt. 

Mortgagee. — The  person  to  whom  the  conveyance  ic  made 

Mortagor. — One  who  makes  the  mortgage. 

Negotiable. — That  may  be  transferred  by  endorsement 
and  delivery,  or  by  delivery  alone. 

Negotiate. — To  transact  business  or  treat  with  another 
respecting  trade  or  treat}'. 

Net. — Clear  of  all  charges  and  deductions. 

Net  Proceeds. — The  sum  left  after  deducting  commission 
or  discount,  etc. 

Won-ftasance. — The  non-performance  of  an  act  that 
should  be  done. 

Non-suit. — Abandoning  a  case,  usually  by  order  of  the 
court. 

Note.— An  obligation  without  a  seal ;  a  written  promise 
to  pay 

Notary  Public. — An  officer  whose  chief  business  it  is  to 
protest  paper  for  non-payment. 

Open  Policy. — A  policy  upon  which  amounts  yet  to  be 
ascertained  and  insured  maybe  entered  at  different 
times. 

24 


Ostensible  Partners. — Those   whose    names   are    mad* 

known  to  the  public. 
Outstanding  Debts. — Those  unpaid. 
Overt. — Open  to  view,  not  secret,  but  manifest. 
Owe. — To  be  indebted  to,  or  bound  to  pay. 
Par. — Equal  value ;    when  market  value  equals  face 

value. 
Partnership. — Company ;    union  of  two  or    more    in 

business. 
Pawnbroker. — One  who  lends  money  on    pledge  or 

deposit  of  goods. 

Pay. — To  recompense ;  an  equivalent  given  for  goods. 
Payee. — The  party  to  whom  payment  is  to  be  made. 
Payor. — One  who  pays  or  is  bound  to  pay. 
Pledge. — A  pawn ;  a  deposit  as  security. 
Policy  of  Insurance — Contract  between  the  insurer  and 

the  insured. 

Politic. — According  to  good  policy ;  for  the  public  good. 
Portage. — The  price  of  carrying ;  cost  paid  by  the  cap 
tain  for  running  his  vessel. 
Premises. — Things  previously  mentioned ;  houses,  lands, 

etc. 
Premium. — The  sum  paid  for  insurance ;  the  excess  of 

value  above  par. 

Price. — Value  set  or  demanded ;  current  value. 
Price  Current. — A  table  of  the  current  price  of  mer 

chandise,  stocks,  bills  of  exchange,  etc. 
Prima  Facie. — On  the  first  view  of  tlie  matter. 
Primage. — A  charge  imposed  in  addition  to  the  freight. 
Principal. — An  employer ;  the  head  of  a  commercial 

house ;  the  sum  loaned  upon  which  interest  is  paid., 
Pro  rata. — According  to  the  rate ;  proportionately. 
Protest. — A  formal  declaration  made  by  a  notary  public 

for  want  of  payment  of  ;,  promissory  note,  or 

for  want  of  acceptance  OL  payment  of  a  bill  of 

exchange. 
Quarantine. — Restraint  of  intercourse  to  which  a  ship 

is  subjected  upon  the  supposition    that   she   is 

infected  with  disease. 
Quotations. — A  statement  of  the  prices  of  articles  of 

merchandise,  given  for  \-ie  information  of  corres 
pondents. 

Rate. — The  proportion  or  standard. 
Rebatement. — Deduction  for  prompt  payment ;  discount. 
Real  Estate. — Land,  aud  everything  tnat  legally  passes 

with  the  land,  in  a  conveyance  or  sale. 
Receipt. — A    writing    acknowledging    the    taking   of 

money  or  goods. 
Refund. — To  repay  or  pay  back. 
Resources. — Pecuniary  means ;  effects  ;  property. 
Resfiondential  Bond. — A  pledge  of  a  cargo  at  sea. 
Retail. — To  sell  in  small  quantities. 
Revenue. — Tax ;  income ;  rents ;  customs  and  duties. 
Reversionary  Interest. — A  riyjht  to  possession  of  property 

at  the  termination  of  «  certain  period,  or  upon  Uj^ 

death  of  the  holder. 


370 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


Revocation. — The  recall  of  power  or  authority  conferred, 
as  the  revocation  of  an  agency. 

Salvage. — A  reward  or  recompense  allowed  by  law  for 
the  saving  of  a  ship  or  goods  from  loss  at  sea, 
either  by  shipwreck  or  other  means. 

Scrip. — Dividends  issued  by  a  stock  company  payab1e 
in  stock.  Scrip  dividends  are  simply  an  increase 
of  the  capital  of  the  company,  as  the  stock  issued 
to  meet  them  is  added  to  the  capital,  and  in  its 
turn  is  entitled  to  future  dividends. 

Seaworthy. — Fit  for  a  voyage ;  in  a  proper  condition  to 
venture  at  sea. 

Secondarily. — Applied  to  the  endorser  of  a  note  or  the 
drawer  of  a  bill,  signifying  that  he  is  only  condi 
tionally  liable,  or  liable  if  the  maker  and  drawee 
fail. 

Shipment. — Goods ;  act  of  shipping. 

Sight. — The  time  of  presenting  a  bill  to  the  drawee. 

Signature. — The  peculiar  style  in  which  a  person  signs 
his  name. 

Sinking  Fund. — A  fund  created  by  a  government  or 
corporation  for  the  extinction  of  its  indebtedness, 
by  the  gradual  purchase  of  its  outstanding  obliga 
tions,  and  the  application  of  the  interest  saved 
on  these  obligations  thus  redeemed  to  further 
purchases. 

Sleeping  Partner. — One  who  invests  his  capital  in  a 
business  house,  and  shares  the  profits,  but  takes 
no  part  in  the  active  management  of  it. 

Silent  Partner. — One  who  invests  his  capital  in  a  busi 
ness  house,  but  whose  name  does  not  appear  in 
the  firm.  His  liability  is  limited  to  the  extent  of 
his  contribution,  except  in  cases  where  he  fails  to 
make  the  proper  publication  of  his  connection 
with  the  concern. 

Solicitor. — One  who  solicits ;  a  lawyer  or  advocate  in  a 
court  of  chancery. 

Solvency. — Ability  to  pay  all  debts. 

Specialty. — A  writing  sealed  and  delivered,  containing 
some  agreement. 

Statement. — Usually  a  list  of  property,  or  resources  and 
liabilities. 

Statistics. — A  collection  of  facts  respecting  any  partic 
ular  thing. 

Statute  law. — A  law  established  by  act  of  the  legislative 
power. 

Stipend. — Settled  pay  for  services;  daily,  monthly  or 
annual  salary. 

Stipulation. — An  agreement  or  contract. 

Stocks. — Shares  in  joint  stock  companies,  and  notes  on 
the  Government. 

Stock  Broker  or  Jobber. — One  who  speculates  in  stocks. 

Sue. — To  prosecute  in  law. 

Surety. — Security  against  loss ;  a  person  bound  for  the 
faithful  performance  of  a  contract  by  another- 

Tacit. — That  which  is  understood  •,  implied. 


Tare. — An  allowance  for  weight  of  box,  case,  bag,  casx, 

etc. ,  containing  merchandise. 

Tariff. — A  list  of  prices ;  duties  on  imports  and  exports. 
Tax. — A  rate  or  sum  of  money  imposed  on  persons  or 

property  for  public  use. 

Tenants  in  common. — Persons  holding  lands  and  tene 
ments  by  several  and  distinct  titles,  and  not  by  H 

joint  title. 

Tenant. — One  who  holds  property  under  another. 
Tenement. — That  which  is  held. 
Tender. — To   offer  for    acceptance.      Legal   tender  is 

such    money  as    the  law   prescribes    shall   pass 

current. 
Tenure. — The  mode  in  which  one  holds  an  estate  in 

lands. 

Testator. — The  person  who  has  made  a  valid  will. 
Tickler. — Name  of  a  book  kept  by  banks. 
Time  draft. — A  draft  maturing  at  a  future   specified 

time. 
Tonnage. — Weight   of  ..    ship's   load ;    capacity   of  * 

vessel. 

Transact. — To  perform  any  act  of  business ;  to  manage. 
Transfer. — To  convey  ;  to  sell  or  alienate  title. 
Treasury. — A  place  where  public  money  is  kept. 
Trustee. — One  to  whom  some  special   trust  is  assigned. 
Uncurrent — Not     passing    in    common    payment,    ai 

£.  s.  d.  in  the  United  States. 

Underwriter. — An  insurer ;  so  called  because  he  under 
writes  his  name  to  the  conditions  of  the  policy. 
Usage  of  Trade. — Custom,  or  the  frequent  repetition  of 

the  same  act  in  business  transactions. 
Usance. — A  fixed  time  on  bills  of  exchange ;  business 

habit  generally  acted  upon  from  force  of  custom. 
Usury. — Excess  of  interest  over  the  amount  allowed 

by  law. 

Valid. — Of  binding  force ;  strong ;  effectual. 
Value. — The   rate  of  worth  or  amount  or  price  of  a 

commodity. 

Vend. — To  sell ;  to  transfer  for  a  pecuniary  considera 
tion. 

Vendee. — The  person  to  whom  a  thing  is  sold. 
Versus . — Against. 

Void — Having  no  binding  force  or  effect. 
Voidable. — That  which  has  some  force  or  effect,  bus 

which,  in  consequence  of  some  inherent  quality, 

may  be  annulled  or  avoided. 
Voucher. — A  paper  that  confirms  anything,  particularly 

the  truth  of  accounts. 
Wages. — Compensation  for  services. 
Waiver. — The  relinquishment  or  refusal   to  accept  a? 

a  right. 

Wares. — Goods ;  merchandise ;  commodities. 
Warrant. — To  invest  with  authority  to  arrest  a  person; 

to  insure  against  defects. 

Wharfage. — Money  paid  for  use  of  a  wharf  or  dock. 
Wharfinger. — The  owner  or  k^per  o/  a 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


Business  Rules  and  Laws  for  Dailv  Use, 


IB  need  of  a  compendium  of  rules 
and  laws  required  in  daily  business 
is  evident  For  want  of  this  men 
have  u>  consult  lawyers  and  pay  fees,  where 
as,  if  they  had  at  hand  just  the  information 
which  this  chapter  furnishes  in  a  plain, 
condensed  form,  they  would  save  themselves 
much  trouble  and  expense.  You  find  here 
in  a  nut-shell  what  you  would  have  to  wade 
through  many  volumes  to  obtain,  and  are 
furnished  with  legal  knowledge  which  is  of 
inestimable  service  to  every  man  doing 
business. 

Many  mistakes  may  be  avoided  by  con 
sulting  the  maxims  and  laws  here  laid 
down. 

COXCISE  BUSINESS  RULES. 

The  intelligent  and  upright  business  man  regulates 
his  conduct  by  fixed  principles  and  established  methods. 
He  is  not  the  creature  of  impulse  or  caprice. 

1.  He  is  strict  in  keeping  his  engagements. 

2.  He  does  nothing  carelessly  or  hurriedly. 

3.  He  does  not  entrust  to  others  what  he  can  easily 
do  himself. 

4.  He  does  not  leave  undone  what  should  and  can 
be  done. 

5.  While  frank  with  all,  keeps  his  plans  and  views 
largely  to  himself. 

6.  Is  prompt  and  decisive  in  his  dealings,  and  don't 
overtrade. 

7.  Prefers  short  credits  to  long  ones;  and  cash  to 
credit  always. 

8.  Is  clear  end  explicit  in  his  bargains. 

9.  Doesn't   leave  to  memory  what  should   be    in 
vriting. 

10.  Keeps  Copies  of  all  important  letters  sent,  and 
files  carefully  all  papers  of  value. 

11.  Doesn't  allow  his  desk  to  be  littered,  but  keeps  it 
tidy  and  well  arranged. 

12.  Aims  to  keep  everything  in  its  proper  place. 

13.  Keeps  the  details  of  his  business  well  in  hand, 
&,(!  under  his  own  eye. 


14.  Believes  that  those  whose  credit  is  suspected  *«« 
not  to  be  trusted. 

15.  Often  examines  his  books  and  knows  ho\y  Le 
stands. 

16.  Has  stated  times  for  balancing  his  books,  toad 
sending  out  accounts  that  are  due. 

17.  Never  takes  money  risks  that  can  be  avoided, 
and  shuns  litigation. 

18.  Is  careful  about  expenses,  and  keeps  within  his 
income. 

19.  Doesn't  postpone  until  to-morrow  what  can  as 
well  be  done  to-day. 

20.  Is  extremely  careful  about  endorsing  for  «ay 
one. 

21.  To  claims  of  real  need  he  responds  generously. 

CONCISE  BUSINESS  LAWS. 

The  following  compilation  of  business  law  contal»> 
the  essence  of  a  large  amount  of  legal  verbiage : 

1.  If  a  note  is  lost  or  stolen,  it  does  not  release  tit- 
maker ;  he  must  pay  it,  if  the  consideration  for  which 
it  was  given  and  the  amount  can  be  proven. 

2.  Notes  bear  interest  only  when  so  stated. 

3.  Principals  are  responsible  for  the  acts  of  thtb 
agents.  • 

4.  Each  individual  in  a  partnership  is  responsib?* 
for  the  whole  amount  of  the  debts  of  the  firm,  excopt 
in  cases  of  special  partnership. 

5.  Ignorance  of  the  law  excuses  no  one. 

6.  The  law  compels  no  one  to  do  impossibilities. 

7.  An  agreement  without  consideration  is  void. 

8.  A  note  made  on  Sunday  is  void. 

9.  Contracts  made  on  Sunday  cannot  be  enforced. 

10.  A  note  by  a  minor  is  voidable.    A  contract  mad  . 
with  a  minor  is  void. 

n.  A  contract  made  with  a  lunatic  is  void. 

12.  A  note  obtained  by  fraud,  or  from  a  person  in  * 
state  of  intoxication,  cannot  be  collected. 

13.  It  is  a  traud  to  conceal  a  fraud. 

14.  Signatures  made  with  a  lead-pencil  are  good  ir 
law. 

15.  A  receipt  for  money  is  not  always  conclusive. 

16.  The  acts  of  one  partner  bind  all  the  rest. 

17.  The  maker  of  an  "accommodation  "  bill  or  note 
(one  for  which  he  has  received  no  consideration,  hav 
ing  lent  his  name  or  credit  for  the  accommodation  of 
the  holder)  is  not  bound  to  the  person  accommodated, 


372 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


but  Is  bouud  to  all  other  parties,  precisely  as  if  there 
was  a  good  consideration. 

18.  No  consideration  is  sufficient  iu  law  if  it  be  illegal 
In  its  nature. 

19.  Checks  or  drafts  must  be  presented  for  payment 
without  unreasonable  delay. 

20.  Checks  or  drafts  should  be  presented  during  busi 
ness  hours ;  but  in  this  country,  except  in  the  case  of 
banl  s,  the  time  extends  through  the  day  and  evening. 

21 .  If  the  drawee  of  a  check  or  draft  has  changed  his 
residence,  the  holder  must  use  due  and  reasonable  dili 
gence  to  find  him. 

22.  If  one  who  holds  a  check,  as  payee  or  otherwise, 
transfers  it  to  another,  he  has  a  right  to  insist  that  the 
check  be  presented  that  day,  or,  at  farthest,  on  the  day 
following. 

23.  A  note  indorsed  in  blank  (the  name  of  the  in- 
dorscr  only  written)  is  transferable  by  delivery,  the 
name  as  if  made  payable  to  bearer. 

24.  If  time  of  payment  of  a  note  is  not  named,  it  is 
payable  on  demand. 

25.  The  time  of  payment  of  a  note  must  not  depend 
upon  a  contingency.     Th»i  promise  must  be  absolute. 

26.  A  bill  may  be  written  upon  any  kind  of  paper, 
either  with  ink  or  pencil. 

87.  The  payee  should  be  named  in  tht  note,  unless 
it  is  payable  to  bearer. 

28.  An  indorsee  has  a  right  of  action  against  all 
whose  names  were  on  the  bill  when  he  received  it. 

29.  If  the  letter  containing  a  protest  of  non-pay 
ment  be  put  into  the  post-office,  any  miscarriage  does 
not  affect  the  party  giving  notice.     Notice  of  protest 
may  be  sent  either  to  the  place  of  business  or  of  resi 
dence  of  the  party  notified. 

30.  The  holder  of  a  note  may  give  notice  of  protest 
aither  to  all  the  previous  indorsees  or  only  to  one  of 
them  ;  in  case  of  the  latter  he  must  select  the  last  in- 
dorser,  and  the  last  must  give  notice  to  the  last  before 
him,  and  so  on.    Each  indorser  must  send  notice  the 
same  day  or  the  day  following.     Neither  Sunday  nor 
any  legal  holiday  is  counted  in  reckoning  time  in 
which  notice  is  to  be  given. 

3«.  The  loss  of  a  note  is  hot  sufficient  excuse  for  not 
tice  of  protest. 


32.  If  two  or  more  persons,  as  partners,  are  jointly 
liable  on  a  note  or  bill,  due  notice  to  one  of  them  i« 
sufficient. 

33.  If  a  note  or  bill  is  transferred  as  security ,  or  even 
as  payment  of  a  pre-existing  debt,  the  debt  revives  if 
the  note  or  bill  be  dishonored. 

34.  An  indorsement  may  be  written  on  the  face  or 
back. 

35.  An   indorser  may  prevent  his  own  liability  to 
be  sued  by  writing  "without  recourse"   or  similar 
words. 

36.  An  oral  agreement  must  be  proved  by  evidence. 
A  written  agreement  proves  itself.     The  law  prefers 
written  to  oral  evidence,  because  of  its  precision. 

37.  No  evidence  can  be  introduced  to  contradict  or 
vary  a  written  contract;  but  it  may  be  received  in 
order  to  explain  it,  when  such  explanation  is  needed. 

38.  Written  instruments  are  to  be  construed  and 
interpreted  by  the  law  according  to  the  simple,  cus 
tomary  and  natural  meaning  of  the  words  used. 

39.  The  finder  of  negotiable  paper,  as  of  all  other 
property,  must  make  reasonable  efforts  to  find  the 
owner,  before  he  is  entitled  to  appropriate  it  for  his 
own  purposes.     If  the  finder  conceal  it,  he  is  liable  to 
the  charge  of  larceny  or  theft. 

40.  Joint  payees  of  a  bill  or  note,  who  are  not  part 
ners,  must  all  join  in  an  indorsement. 

41.  One  may  make  a  note  payable  to  his  own  order 
and  indorse  it  in  blank.     He  must  write  his  name 
across  its  back  or  face,  the  same  as  any  other  indorser. 

42.  After  the  death  of  a  holder  of  a  bill  or  note,  his 
executor   or   administrator   may  transfer   it   by  his 
indorsement. 

43.  The  husband  who  acquires  a  right  to  a  bill  or 
note  which  was  given  to  the  wife,  either  before  or 
after  marriage,  may  indorse  it. 

44.  "Acceptance"  applies  to  bills  and  not  to  notes. 
It  is  an  engagement  on  the  part  of  the  person  on  whom 
the  bill  is  drawn  to  pay  it  according  to  its  tenor.    The 
usual  way  is  to  write  across  the  face  of  the  bill  the 
word  "accepted." 

45.  An  account  outlawed  according  to  statute  of 
state  where  it  is  contracted  cannot  b«.  collected  unless 
judgment  note  has  been  given. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


Book-keeping. 


j£^T  VERY  boy  should  learn  book-keeping. 

The  system  of  book-keeping  herewith  pre 

C\*))     Is  there  any  good  reason  why  every 

sented,  is  that  taught  in  Peirce's  Business 

girl  should  not  learn  book-keeping 

College,   Philadelphia,   which  is  considered 

also?     A  practical    knowledge  of  accounts 

the  leading  institution  of  its  kind  in  the 

and  of  the  various  forms  used  in  business, 

United  States.     The  publishers  of  this  work 

ought  to  be  acquired  by  every  individual. 

acknowledge  Mr.  Peirce's  courtesy  in  placing 

For  the  want  of  such  knowledge,  mistakes 

at  their  disposal   the  system   taught  in  his 

and  blunders  are  constantly  occurring.  Every 

college,  a  knowledge  ot  which  can  be  gained 

household  should  have  its  accountant 

by  any  one,  and  will  be  found  invaluable. 

SIGNS  AND  ABBREVIATIONS  USED  IN  BUSINESS. 

Acct.                                        Account 

C,  B.                                       Cash  Book 

4d  lib.                                       At  pleasure 

CAW.                                      Charged 

Admr.                                        Administrator 

Ck.                                         Check 

Admjc.                                       Administratrix 

C.  L.                                       Car  load 

Adv.                                        Adventure 

C.  O.  D.                                  Collect  on  delivery 

As*.                                         Agent 

Co.                                           Company 

Ami.                                         Amount 

Coll.                                           Collateral 

Ans.                                           Answer 

Col.                                          Collection 

A.  D.                                       In  the  year  of  ou\  Lord 

Const.                                       Consignment 

A.  M.                                       In  the  year  of  the  World 

Com.                                        Commission 

A.  AT.                                       Before  noon  —  Morning 

Con.                                         Contra 

Apr.                                           April 

Cr.                                           Creditor 

Ass/.                                        Assistant 

Os.                                          Cents 

Asstd.                                        Assorted 

D.  B.                                       Day  Book 

Aug.                                          August 

Dep.                                           Deposit 

Ave.                                         Avenue 

Dec.                                         December 

BaL.                                         Balance 

Deft.                                          Defendant 

Bdt.                                           Boards 

Dft.                                          Draft 

•Bgs.                                           Bags 

Dis.                                          Discount 

Bbl.                                           Barrel 

D.  i.                                        Double  first  class 

Bk.                                              Bank 

Do.                                         Ditto—  the  same 

B.  B.                                       Bill  Book 

Doz.                                         Dozen 

Blk.                                           Black 

Dr.                                          Debtor 

Bh.                                            Bales 

Dray.                                        Drayage 

Bot.                                            Bought 

D's.                                           Days 

Bro.                                           Brother 

Ea.                                              Each 

Brot.                                         Brought 

E.  E.                                        Errors  excepfcd 

JSu.                                          Bushel 

E.  &•»  O.  E.                             Errors  and  omission* 

Bxs.                                         Boxes 

excepted 

Bills  Rec.  or  B{R                     Bills  Receivable 

Eng.                                          English 

Bills.  Pay.  or  BjP                   Bills  Payable 

Enfd.                                        Entered 

Cap.                                           Capital 

Et  al.                                       And  others 

573 


374 

Ex. 

Exch 

Rxp. 

Ex.  ret* 

Few. 

Pel. 

f.  o.  6. 

Fol. 

For'd. 

Frt. 

Gal. 

Gro. 

Gt.  Gm 

Gttar. 

Hhd. 

Hund. 

I.B. 

Ib. 

Id. 

I.E. 

Ins. 

fnst. 

Int. 

Invl. 

Jan. 

J.  o.  A 

J.F. 

Jour. 

L.B. 

L.  C.L. 

L.F. 

Us. 

Mar. 

Mdse. 

Mem. 

Messrs. 

Mo. 

Nat. 

N.B. 

No. 

N.  O.& 

Nov. 

0.  C. 

Oct. 

O.R. 

Oz. 

P. 

Per. 

Percent 

Per  am 

Payt. 

P.  <*  3> 

fa. 

Pkg. 

P.&L. 
YV, 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS, 


Example 

Exchange 

Expense 

At  the  information  of 

Favor 

Feoruary 

Free  on  board 

Folio 

Forward 

Freight 

Gallon 

Gross 

Great  Gross 

Guaranteed 

Hogshead 
Hundred 
Invoice  Book 

Ibid — in  the  same  place 

Idem — the  same 
Id  est— That  is 

Insurance 

Instant— the  present  month 

Interest 

Inventory 

January 

Journal  Day  Book 

Journal  Folio 

Journal 

Letter  Book 

Less  than  Carloads 

Ledger  Folio 

Pounds 

March 

Merchandise 

Memorandum 

Gentlemen — Sirs 

Month 

National 

Nota  Bene— Take  notice 

Number  (Numero) 

Not  otherwise  specified 

November 

Overcharge 

October 

Owner's  Risk 

Ounce 

Page 

By 

Sy  the  hundred 

By  the  year 

Payment 

Pretty  Cash  Book 

Paid 

Package 

Front  and  Loss 

Pair 


P.S. 

Pi. 

Pretu. 

Pres. 

Prox. 

Ptff. 

Reed. 

R.R. 

S.B. 

Shipt. 

Sept. 

St. 

St.Dfl. 

S.S. 

SSorss. 

Sq.ft. 

Sq.yds. 

Sunls. 

T.  B. 

Trans. 

Ult. 

Vts. 

Vs. 

W.B. 

Wk. 

m. 

Yds. 

Yr. 
$ 
t 

£ 

s. 

d. 
I 


B\L 
C/O 

O.K. 
« 

M. 


&c. 

& 

V 

* 


Postcript 
Pieces 
Premium 
President 

Proximo — thtt  next  mouth 
Plaintiff 
Received 
Railroad 
Sales  Book 
Shipment 
September 
Street 
Sight  draft 
Steamship 
That  is  to  say 
Square  feet 
Square  yards 
Sundries 
Trial  Balance 
Transaction 

Ultimo — the  last  month 
Namely 

Versus— against 
Way  bill 
Week 
Weight 
Yards 
Year 
Dollars 
Cents 

Pound  Sterling 
Shillings 
Pence 

Used  for  shillings,  a* 
3/6  =  33.  6d. 

At  or  to 

Account 

Bill  of  lading 

Care  of 

All  correct 

Ditto 

One  thousand 

Per  cent 

Per  or  by 

And  so  forth 

And 

Check  mark 

Number  or  pounds. 

(Number  when  placed  b£ 
fore  a  figure,  /<>«»<&  whe# 
placed  after) 

Four  quarter — one  yard 

One  and  one-fourth 

One  and  one-half 

One  and  three-fourth* 


BOOK-KEEPING. 


375- 


—  fir 
THE  BUSINESS  MAM  ~~LJKTCi2»i 


EIQHT  PERIODS  OF  HUMAN  UFfi. 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


METHOD  OF  KEEPING  BOOKS. 

BOOK-KEEPING  is  the  science  of  accounts. 
Book-keeping,  like  Banking,  was  first  used 
in  Italy.  Two  distinct  methods  are  in  use : 
book-keeping  by  single  entry  and  book-keep 
ing  by  d*  uble  entry. 


HEAD  FOR  BUSINESS. 

SINGLE  ENTRY  shows  one's  standing  with 
the  individual,  firm  or  corporation  with  whom 
he  has  transacted  business,  and  it  does  that 
as  well  as  double  entry ;  but  it  does  not  go 
beyond  that 

DOUBLE  ENTRY,  and  double  entry  alone, 
exhibits  the  relation  of  the  business  man  to 
the  kinds  of  property  possessed,  and  the  loss 
or  gain  made  upon  each  kind,  and  without 
the  aid  of  anything  else  than  the  taking  of 
the  account  of  stock ;  the  Ledger,  by  double 
entry,  exhibits  all  the  facts  of  the  case. 

In  double  entry,  accounts  are  not  only 
with  persons,  but  with  all  kinds  of  property, 
etc.  The  amounts  which  are  placed  on  the 
debit  side  of  one  account  must  be  placed  on 
the  credit  side  of  another  account.  This  is 
the  fundamental  principle  of  double  entry 
book-keeping,  for  there  cannot  be  a  debit 


without  a  corresponding  credit,  and  vice  versa. 

Single  entry  is  without  the  advantage  of 
the  check  furnished  by  the  Trial  Balance 
used  in  Double  entry.  When  one  desires  his> 
Ledger  closed,  to  see  where  he  stands  and 
how  he  has  reached  his  present  position,  if 
his  Ledger  has  been  kept  by  single  entry  it 
will  furnish  only  two  schedules  or  lists,  the 
one  consisting  of  the  names  of  individuals, 
firms,  or  corporations  owing  him,  and  the 
other  consisting  of  the  names  of  individuals, 
firms  or  corporations  to  whom  he  is  in  debt 
All  other  facts  needed  in  the  determination 
•of  his  condition  must  be  ascertained  outside 
of  the  Ledger. 

DEBITS  are  entries  upon  the  left  hand  or 
charge  side  of  an  account  of  business  trans 
actions.  CREDITS  are  entries  upon  the  right 
hand  or  discharge  or  trust  side  of  an  account 
of  business  transactions. 

I 

A  BUSINESS  TRANSACTION  is  an  exchange 
of  values. 

ACCOUNTS. 

ACCOUNTS  are  of  two  kinds :  Speculative 
and  Non-speculative. 

SPECULATIVE  ACCOUNTS  show  losses  and 
gains,  and  include  such  accounts  as:  Mer 
chandise,  Real  Estate,  Railroad  Str?k,  Ex 
pense,  etc.  * 

NON-SPECULATIVE  ACCOUNTS  show  Re 
sources  and  Liabilities  on  which,  from  their 
nature,  can  be  neither  increase  or  decrease 
of  value,  such  as  Cash,  Bills  Receivable,  etc., 
and  on  which  there  is  neither  loss  nor  gain, 
unless  it  arises  incidentally,  in  the  case  of  a 
failure  of  the  individual,  firm,  or  corpora 
tion  in  debt,  or  loss  of  cash,  by  thef»-  or  fire 
BOOKS  OF  ACCOUNT, 

BOOKS  OF  ACCOUNT  are  the  various  books 
in  which  entries  of  business  transactions  are 
made,  and  are  of  three  kinds :  Books  of  Ori 
ginal  Entry,  Auxiliary  Books  and  Books  of 
Subsequent  Entry. 


BOOKS  OF  ORIGINAL  ENTRY  are  those  in 
which  the  business  transaction  is  recorded  at 
the  time  of  its  occurrence,  and  from  which 
is  taken,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  the  Ledger: 
as  the  Day  Book,  Cash  Book,  Invoice  Book, 
Sales  Book,  etc. 

AUXILIARY  BOOKS  aid  materially  in  giv 
ing  the  particulars  and  details  of  a  trans 
action.  They  comprise  the  Bank  Book,  Bill 
Book,  Draft  Book,  Note  Book,  Order  Book, 
Ticker,  etc. 

BOOKS  OF  SUBSEQUENT  ENTRY  are  the 
Journal  and  Ledger.  The  Journal  is  some 
times  used  to  prepare  the  entries  for  the 
Ledger,  in  which  are  collected  together  in 
one  place,  under  their  appropriate  heads,  ?\l 
debits  and  credits  of  like  character. 

BILJLS  AND  BOOKS  OF  ORIGINAL, 
ENTRY. 

The  proper  making  of  bills  of  goods  is  a 
very  important  feature  of  counting-house 
duty,  and  the  recording  of  business  trans 
actions  in  books  of  original  entry  is  of  great 
importance. 

The  requisites  of  a  proper  book  of  original 
entries  are : 

First. — That  the  book  is  the  original  book 
of  entries,  and  not  one  in  which  the  entries 
are  transcribed  from  another  book. 

Second. — That  they  shall  be  properly  de 
tailed  and  not  lumped,  giving  such  items  of 
account,  prices  and  kinds  of  goods  that  the 
party  shall  be  able  to  tell  what  he  is  charged 
with. 

Third. — That  the  entries  charge  the  parties 
by  name  with  sufficient  definiteness  to  indi 
vidualize  the  party  charged,  and  to  distin 
guish  him  from  every  one  else. 

Fourth — That  the  entries  are  made  for 
goods  sold  and  delivered,  or  work  and  labor 
done  in  the  usual  course  of  business. 

Fifth. — That  the  respective  dates  of  the 
entries  are  piven. 


BOOK-KEEPING. 
Sixth. 


3/7 


That  the  entries  are  made  at  CM 
about  the  time  the  goods  are  set  apart  for 
delivery,  or  are  delivered,  or  the  work  il 
finished. 


HEAD  FOR  MECHANICS 

DAY  BOOK. 

The  book  of  original  entry  is  the  Da/ 
Book,  or  a  subdivision  of  it.  There  should 
be  entered  into  it,  or  its  subdivision  a  concise 
and  comprehensive  history  of  the  merchant's 
business  transactions,  and  they  should  be  so- 
carefully  and  clearly  made  that  one  familiar 
with  business  affairs,  although  an  entire 
stranger  to  these  particular  transactions,  would 
understand  them  fully  by  merely  reading  the 
record  of  them. 

If  mistakes  are  made,  either  in  words  01 
figures,  they  should  be  cancelled  by  drawing 
lines  of  red  ink  through  the  mistake,  anc 
should  not  under  any  circumstances  be 
erased.  As  books  of  original  entry  only  art 
allowed  in  cases  of  litigation,  it  becomes  mor< 
important  that  erasures  should  nof  be  made 
in  them. 

The  Day  Book  is  rarely  ever  usea  in  *> 


378 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


business  by  itself.  The  keeping  of  a  Cash  Book 
is  strongly  urged,  no  matter  how  limited 
the  business  in  either  number  or  volume  of 
transactions,  and,  when  kept,  to  use  it  only 
for  '"be  receipt  or  disbursement  of  cash. 

THE  CASH  BOOK. 

May  bj  denned  as  that  part  of  the  Day  Book, 
or  thai:  branch  of  the  Day  Book,  into  which 
is  entered  all  cash  received. 


HEAD  FOR  BOOKS. 

If  the  books  of  original  entry  are  limited 
to  the  Cash  Book  and  Day  Book,  the  rule  of 
classification  to  be  followed  in  making  entries 
in  them  is  this :  Enter  into  the  Cash  Book 
all  Cash  received  and  all  Cash  paid  out,  and 
enter  everything  else  into  the  Day  Book. 

In  very  many  businesses  it  is  very  desira 


ble  that  there  should  be  kept,  in  some  way, 
an  Invoice  Book  and  a  Sales  Book. 
THE  INVOICE  BOOK. 

Is  that  branch  or  department  of  the  Day 
Book  into  which  purchases  of  Merchandise 
are  entered. 

When  it  is  necessary  to  keep  an  Invoice 
Book,  it  is  also  necessary  to  keep  a 
SALES  BOOK. 

This  is  a  subdivision  or  part  of  the  Day 
Book,  into  which  are  entered  all  sales  of 
Merchandise  made  by  the  merchant  A 
Sales  Book  is  sometimes  made  out  of  an  ordi 
nary  letter  copying  book,  into  which,  by  an 
ordinary  letter  press,  a  copy  of  every  bill 
sent  by  the  merchant  to  his  customers  is 
taken,  and  from  the  Sales  Book  the  charges 
and  credits  are  taken  to  the  Ledger. 

When  the  books  of  original  entry  em 
brace  Cash  BOOK,  Day  Book,  Invoice  Book 
and  Sales  Book,  there  should  be  entered  into 
the  Cash  Book,  as  above,  all  moneys  received 
and  all  moneys  paid  out,  and  into  the  In 
voice  Book  all  Merchandise  bought,  and 
into  the  Sales  Book  all  Merchandise  sold, 
and  into  the  Day  Book  every  other  kind  of 
business  transacted. 

Sometimes  the  Bill  Book  is  used  as  a  book 
of  original  entry.  When  so  used  it  ceases  to 
be  an  Auxiliary  Book  and  becomes  a  branch 
or  division  of  the  Day  Book,  into  which  are 
entered  all  Bills  Receivable  received  and 
Bills  Payable  issued.  Under  such  circum 
stances  the  Day  Book  would  not  be  used  for 
the  reception  and  issuing  of  promissoiy 
notes  and  acceptances. 


Transactions  to  be  recorded  tn  books  of  original  entry  when  tfie  Day  Book  and  Cash  Book 
only  are  kept. 

February  3,  1888. — Commenced  business  with  a  Cash  Capital  of  $2500.  Bought  of  John  B.  Ellison  &  Sons 
350  yds.  Black  Diagonal  Cloth,  @  $2.25  =  $787.50.  Gave  them  my  note,  @  90  days,  for  amount  of  their  bill, 
$787.50.  Sold  T.  J.  Barlow  50  yds.  Diagonal,  @  $ 2.75  =  $137.50.  Received  from  him,  cash,  $137.50.  Paid  Rent 
pf  Store  for  one  month,  in  advance,  $125.  Paid  for  Postage,  $10. 

The  day-book  items  above  would  appear  in  the  Day  Book  as  follows : 


BOOK-KEEPING. 
PHILADELPHIA,  FEBRUARY  3,  189 


379 


•> 

^ 

Commenced  business  this  day  with  a  cash  Capital  of  $2500 
/  / 

787 
787 

137 

50 
50 

50 

Bought  of  John  B.  Ellison  &  Sons,  on  90  days'  note, 
350  yds.  Black  Diagonal  Cloth,                            @                                  $2.25 

/  / 

Gave  John  B.  Ellison  &  Sous  my  note  at  90  days  for  invoice  of  this  date. 
f  f 

Sold  T.  J.  Barlow,  for  cash, 
50  yds.  Black  Diagonal,                                                    @                        $2.75 

The  cash  items  in  the  above  set  of  transactions  would  appear  in  the  Cash  Book  as 
follows : 

DI.  CASH.  CASH.  Cr. 


189 

Feb. 

3 

5 
/ 

To  Student 
"  T.  J.  Barlow 

amount  Invested 
bill  of  Date 

2500 
137 

00 

50 

2637 

50 

189 
Feb. 

3 

,? 

By  Expense 
Kxpense 

"  Balance 

rent  for  i  month 
postage 

"5 

10 

oo 
oo 

135 

2502 

To  Balance 

2637 

50 

2637 

i«9 
i*rb. 

y 

2502 

5" 

The  books  of  every  business  man  should 
faithfully  reflect  his  monetary  transactions. 
It  is  one  of  the  achievements  of  a  perfect 
system  of  book-keeping  that  it  chronicles 


it     Some  mercantile  accounts  are  contin 
ually  and  almost  hopelessly  muddled. 

There  is  no  necessity  for  this,  and,  besides, 
it  is  disastrous  to  all  business  success.     The 


old-fashioned,  country  store-keeper  used  to 
carry  his  accounts  in  his  head,  or  kept  them 
with  a  piece  of  chalk  on  the  cellar  door. 
He  was  a  man  to  be  laughed  at,  not  to  be 
imitated. 


all  the  transactions  of  an  individual  or  firm, 
and  does  it  so  effectively  that  the  exact  state 
of  affairs  can  be  made  known  any  day. 
Thera  must  be  clear  ideas  as  to  what  needs 
to  be  done,  and  the  strictest  fidelity  in  doing 

Transactions  to  be  entered  in  books  of  original  entry,  comprising  Cash  Book,  Invoice  Book, 
Sales  Book  and  Day  Book. 

"March  i,  189  . — Invested  in  business,  Cash,  $2000.  Bought  of  Camden  Woolen  Mills,  650  yards  of  Cassi- 
me,<;s,  @  $1-75  =  $i  i37>_5o.  Gave  them  cash,  on  account,  $537.50,  and  my  note,  @  60  days,  for  balance,  $600. 
Paid  one  month's  Rent,  in  advance,  $100.  Paid  for  Stationery,  $12.50.  Sold  to  John  Stilz  &  Son  200  yds  Cassi- 
mercs,  @  $2.25  =  $450.  Received  in  cash,  on  account,  $200,  and  their  note,  @  10  days,  for  $250.  Bought  of 
Wendell,  Fay  &  Co.  500  yds.  Black  Serge,  @  $2.25  —  $1125.  Gave  them  cash,  on  account,  $625,  and  my  note, 
@  30  days,  for  $500.  Sold  to  Hughes  &  Miller,  250  yds.  Serge,  ©$2.75  =  $687.50.  Received  from  them, 
,  $687.50. 


380  BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 

The  cash  items  in  preceding  transactions  would  appear  in  Cash  Book  as  follows: 


Dr. 


CASH. 


CASH. 


6V. 


189 

I8q 

I 

Mar. 
ii 

i 

5 

7 
7 

To  Student 
"  J.  Stilz  &  Son 
"  Hughes  &  Miller 

investment 
on  account 
bill  of  Date 

2OOO  OO 
200  00 
68750 

a887 

50 

Mar. 

i 

8 

9 
9 
10 

By  C.  W.  Mills 
"   Expense 
"  Expense 
"  Wendell  Fay  &  Co 

on  account 
rent 
stationery 
on  account 

537  5° 

IOO  00 

12,50 

625:00 

" 

" 

"   Balance 

'275 
1612 

2887 

50 

2887 

189 
Mar. 

To  Balance 

1612 

5° 

The  purchases  mentioned  above  would  appear  in  the  Invoice  Book  as  follows: 

PHILADELPHIA,  MARCH  i,  189  . 


Camden  Woolen  Mills 
650  yds.  Cassimere, 

@                   $i-75 

, 
"37 

1125 

50 
oo 

Wendell,  Fay  &  Co. 
500  yds.  Black  Serge, 

@                  $2.25 

The  sales  mentioned  above  would  appear  in  the  Sales  Book  as  follows: 

PHILADELPHIA,  MARCH  i,  189  . 


Jno.  Stilz  &  Son 
200  yds.  Cassimere, 

@                    $2.25 
/  f 

450 
687 

oo 
5° 

Hughes  &  Miller 
250  yds.  Serge, 

@                     $2.75 

Those  items  mentioned   above,  which   do   not  appear   in   the  Cash   Book,  Invoice 
Book  and  Sales  Book,  would  be  entered  in  the  Day  Book  as  follows: 

PHILADELPHIA,  MARCH  i,  189  . 


Gave  Caniden  Woolen  Mills  my  note,  @  60  days,  to  balance  their  bill 
this  date 

/  / 

( 

i 

Received  from  John  Stilz  &  Son  their  note,  @  todays,  for  balance  of  bill 
of  this  date 

/  / 

Gave  Wendell,  Fay  &  Co.  my  note,  @  30  days,  to  balance  their  account 

600100 


2.SOOO 


30000 


BOOK-KEEPING. 


THE  JOURNAL. 

Is  a  book  in  which  the  debits  and  credits  of 
transactions  appearing  in  the  books  of  origi 
nal  entry  may  be  written  before  they  are 
•taken  to  the  Ledger,  and  it  is  also  used  for 
die  recording  of  debits  and  credits  needed 
in  closing  the  Ledger. 

The  writing  of  debits  and  credits  in  the 
Journal  is  called  Journalizing. 

DAY-BOOK  JOURNAL. 

The  Day  Book  and  the  Journal  are  fre 
quently  combined  in  a  book  called  the  Day 
Book-journal,  in  which  the  Day  Book  entry 
is  written  and  journalized  immediately  un 
derneath,  and  the  amounts  extended  in  the 
money  columns  as  in  the  Journal,  the  money 
'Columns  in  the  Day  Book-Journal  being  used 
'.for  debits  and  credits  instead  of  for  items  and 
<iOtals  as  in  the  Day  Book. 

RULES  FOR  DEBITING  ANI 
CREDITING. 

The  rules  for  debiting  and  crediting  Per- 
kSonal  Accounts,  be  they  with   individuals, 
firms  or  corporations,  are : 


Debit  the  account  of  those  to  whom  you 
give  any  value.  Credit  the  account  of  those 
from  whom  you  receive  any  value. 

The  rules  for  debiting  and  acrediting 
accounts  with  things  are : 

Debit  the  thing  received,  or  that  which 
costs  value.  Credit  the  thing  parted  with 
or  that  which  produces  you  value. 

"  Posting "  is  the  process  of  transferring 
the  various  entries  in  the  Cash  Book  and 
Day  Book  to  their  proper  accounts  in  the 
Ledger.  It  is  the  custom  of  the  best  book 
keepers  to  post  their  books  once  a  week,  and 
thus  avoid  an  accumulation  of  work  at  the 
end  of  the  month ;  but  in  no  case  should  the 
posting  be  delayed  longer  than  once  a  month, 
as  it  is  necessary  to  close  the  Cash  Book  and 
Day  Book  on  the  last  day  of  each  month  as 
has  been  already  explained. 

The  book-keeper  must  be  careful  to  post 
each  entry  on  the  proper  side  of  the  account 
in  the  Ledger,  and  to  write  the  figures 
correctly,  as  the  slightest  error  will  throw 
the  books  ont  of  balance. 


Memorandum  of  transactions  entered  in  the  Day  Book,  on  page  380,  and  here  Journalized. 

March  i,  189  . — Gave  Catnden  Woolen  Mills  my  note,  @  60  days,  to  balance  account,  $600.  Received 
from  John  Stilz  &  Son  their  note,  @  90  days,  for  balance  of  bill  this  date,  $250.  Gave  Wendell,  Pay  &  Co. 
i£ny  note,  @  30  days,  to  balance  their  account,  $500. 

These  would  appear  in  the  Journal  as  follows: 

PHILADELPHIA,  MARCH  i,  189  . 


Camden  Woolen  Mills 

600 

oo 

Bills  Payable 

600 

oo 

1 

Bills  Receivable 

250 

oo 

I 

Jno.  Stilz  &  Son 

250 

oo 

Wendell,  Fay  &  Co. 

Bills  Payable 

500 

00 

500 

oo 

Memorandum  of  transactions  entered  in  the  Cash  Book,  on  page  380,  and  here  Journalized, 

March  i,  189  . — Invested  in  business  $2000.  Gave  Camden  Woolen  Mills,  on  account,  $537.50.  Paid  one 
month's  Rent,  $100.  Paid  for  Stationery,  $12.50.  Received  from  Jno.  Stilz  &  Son,  on  account,  $200.  Gave 
Wendell,  Fay  &  Co.,  on  account,  #625.  Received  from  Hughes  &  Miller,  on  account,  $687.50. 


382  BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS, 

These  would  appear  in  the  Journal  as  follows : 

PHILADELPHIA,  MARCH  i,  189  . 


Cash 

2887 

50 

Merchant 

2000 

00 

Jno.  Stilz  &  Son 

20O 

oo 

Hughes  &  Miller 

687 

50 

Camden  Woolen  Mills 

537 

50 

Expense 

100 

00 

Expense 

12 

50 

Wendell,  Fay  &  Co. 

625 

00 

Cash 

1 

1275 

00 

Memorandum  of  transactions  entered  in  the  Invoice  Book,  on  page  380,  and  here  Journalised. 

March,  i  189    . — Bought  of  Camden  Woolen  Mills  bill  of  Cassimeres  amounting  to  $1137.50.     Bought  of 
Wendell,  Fay  &  Co.  bill  of  Serge,  $1125.00. 

These  would  appear  in  the  Journal  as  follows : 

PHILADELPHIA,  MARCH  i,  189  . 


Mdse. 

2262 

50 

Camden  Woolen  Mills 

"37 

,so 

! 

Wendell,  Fay  &  Co. 

1125 

oo 

Memorandum  of  transactions  entered  in  the  Sales  Book,  on  page  380,  and  here  Journalized. 

March  I,  189   . — Sold  John  Stilz  &  Son  Cloths  to  the  amount  of  $450.    Sold  Hnghes  &  Miller  bill  of  Cloth* 
to  the  amount  of  $687.50. 

These  would  appear  in  the  Journal  a?  follows : 

PHILADELPHIA,  MARCH  r ,  189  . 


Jno.  Stilz  &  Son 
Hughes  &  Miller 

450 

687 

00 

50 

Mdse. 

"37 

50 

LEDGER. 

The  Ledger  is  the  principal  book,  and  all 
other  books  are  subservient  to  it.  It  is  the 
book  of  accounts,  and  in  it  are  gathered 
from  the  books  of  original  entry,  either 
directly  or  through  the  Journal,  all  the 
business  transactions  of  which  a  record  has 
been  made;  but  nothing  can  be  entered  into 
the  Ledger  until  (i)  it  is  known  *:o  what 
account  the  entry  belongs,  and  (2)  o\  which 
side  it  is  to  be  entered.  For  each  person 
who  becomes  indebted  to  us,  or  to  whom  we 
owe  anything,  and  for  each  sort  of  property 


of  which  we  may  become  possessed,  an 
account  must  be  opened  and  indexed,  and 
the  date  and  amount  of  the  item  placed 
therein.  Numerous  transactions  are  thus 
brought,  in  this  condensed  form,  into  a  very 
small  compass.  The  debtor,  or  charged 
items,  are  placed  on  the  left  hand  side  and 
the  creditor,  or  discharged,  or  trusted  items^ 
on  the  right  hand  side.  By  deducting  tht 
sum  of  the  items  on  the  one  side,  from  the 
sum  of  the  items  upon  the  other  side,  an 
easy  determination  is  made  of  the  amount 
due  t°  us  ^  due  by  us,  or  the  amount  of 


BOOK-KEEPING. 


property  on  hand,  or  the  actual  gain  or  loss. 

The  Ledger  is  a  summary  of  the  transac 
tions,  and  gives  only  the  date  and  amount 
of  the  items,  the  page  of  the  books  from 
which  they  have  been  brought,  and  the 
name  of  the  corresponding  accounts.  For 
other  particulars,  reference  must  be  made  to 
the  books  of  original  entry  and  to  the 
auxiliary  books. 

A  double  entry  Ledger  is  usually  divided 
vertically  in  the  middle,  and  the  ruling  is 
the  same  on  the  left  as  on  the  right. 

Transactions  appear  in  the  books  of  origi 
nal  entry  in  the  order  of  the  date  of  their 
occurrence,  but  in  the  Ledger  they  are  clas 


sified  in  the  order  of  their  kind,  all  of  the 
same  kind  being  grouped  together  and  con 
stituting  an  account.  • 

An  account  in  the  Ledger  is  an  arrange 
ment  of  the  debits  and  credits  of  business 
transactions  of  a  like  character,  in  a  space  set 
apart  for  them  with  the  name  or  title  of  the 
account  written  at  the  top. 

The  Ledger  is  made  up  exclusively  of 
these  different  kinds  of  debits  and  credits, 
or  different  accounts,  and  every  account  has 
two  sides — a  debit  or  left  hand  one,  and  a 
credit  or  right  hand  one.  Below  will  be 
found  a  space  ruled  as  a  page  of  a  double 
entry  Ledger,  with  the  use  of  each  division 
denoted : 


(Side.)                                                                                       (Name  of  account.)                                                                                       (Side.) 
Dr.                                                                  BILLS  RECEIVABLE.                                                                      Cr. 

r;89 

1 

189 

14 

To  Jno.  Wanamaker 

560 

75S 

69 

July 

9 

By  W.  M.  Singeily 

549 

565 

73 

•o 

•d 

"^ 

V 

^ 

JB 

g 

0 

•o 

O 

•* 

a 

_^ 

I 

O, 

X 

•T 

"2 

1 

X 

o 

2 

£, 

X 

X 

V 

8 

X 

^^ 

•0 

!S 

S 
•o 

a 

s 

0 

"o 

2 

0 

a 

k  from  w 

DoIIais. 

09 

o 

T5 

a 
^ 

c 
o 

0 

J! 
o 

i  from  w 

Dollars.; 

3" 

I 

3 

a 

3 

o 

? 

3 

V 

a 

3 

| 

V 

0 

LI 

8 

W 

o 

CM 

O 

1 
X 

o 

H 

£ 

ffi 

.2 

"5 

^ 

"3 

h 

£ 

CASH  ACCOUNT. 

Cash  Account  does  not  contain  the  items 
found  in  the  Cash  Book,  but  it  is  debited 
uTo  Sundries"  for  the  total  amount  of  cash 
received  from  all  sources  and  credited  "  By 
Sundries"  for  cash  expenditures  of  all  kinds. 

The  Cash  Account  in  the  Ledger  is  in  it 
self  a  skeleton  Cash  Book,  or  a  Cash  Book 
from  which  particulars  have  been  excluded. 

As  more  money  cannot  be  paid  out  than 
is  received,  Cash  Account  will  either  close  it 
self  when  all  the  money  has  been  paid  out, 
or  will  close  "By  Balance"  for  whatever 
amount  remains  unexpended.  The  differ 


ence  between  the  two  sides  at  any  time 
should  agree  with  the  amount  of  Cash  on 
hand  at  that  time. 

It  is  the  custom  of  most  book-keepers  to 
use  what  is  called  a  Petty  Cash  Book.  Any 
blank  book  ruled  with  dollar  and  cent  col 
umns  will  answer.  The  Petty  Cash  Book  is 
for  expenditures  only,  and  saves  the  book 
keeper  a  great  deal  of  time  and  labor  which 
would  be  required  were  all  the  minor  ex 
penses  entered  in  the  Cash  Book  and  trans 
ferred  separately  to  the  Ledger. 

Cash  is  a  Non-speculative  Account.  Take 
the  following  example : 


3*4 

Dr. 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 
CASH. 


Cr. 


189 

189 

--=•' 

Jan. 

ii 

To  Sundries 

5 

500 

00 

Jan. 

3i 

By  Sundries 

«> 

'•    ^00 

00 

Feb. 

29 

do 

20 

300 

oo 

Feb. 

29 

do 

20 

:     400 

00 

Mar. 

3i 

1        do 

34 

200 

oo 

Mar. 

3i 

do 

34 

15000 

Apr. 

30 

do 

46 

10O 

oo 

Apr. 

30 

do 

46 

2OOOO 

May 

3' 

1        do 

53 

2OO 

00 

May 

3i 

do 

<n 

100  00 

(tine 

30 

do 

64 

500 

00 

June 

•JO 

do 

64 

30000 

Balance 

!  35ooo 

I800 

oo 

1800 

00 

109 
June 

3° 

To  Balance 

350 

00 

It  will  be  noticed  that  the  total  Receipts 
of  Cash  are  entered  on  the  Debit,  or  left  hand 
side,  and  that  the  total  Payments  are  entered 
upon  the  Credit,  or  right  hand  side. 
MERCHANDISE  ACCOUNT. 

This  is  a  Speculative  Account,  and  is 
charged  with  all  goods  or  other  property 
which  we  buy  for  the  purpose  of  selling  in 
the  regular  line  or  conduct  of  our  business. 
It  embraces  the  manufacturers'  wares,  shop 
keepers'  goods  and  the  produce  or  property 
in  which  a  merchant  trades,  as  well  as  the 
staple  commodities  of  a  country  in  the  hands 
of  regular  dealers  in  them.  * 

Merchandise  is  always  Credited  for  the 
sale  of  that  which  has  been  charged  against 
it  It  may  be  likened  to  a  clerk  to  whom  is 
intrusted  all  the  goods,  etc.,  bought,  and  who 
is  discharged  from  the  responsibility  of  their 
care  when  they  are  sold. 

This  account  must  be  credited  "By  In- 
ventorv"  for  the  amount  of  merchandise  on 


hand,  as  shown  in  the  Inventory,  then  the 
account  is  to  be  closed  "  To  "  or  "  By  Loss  and 
Gain"  account,  according  as  the  difference 
between  the  two  sides  shows  a  gain  or  a 
loss. 

After  closing  and  ruling  this  account,  it 
must  be  debited  "To  Inventory"  for  the 
amount  of  the  stock  on  hand. 

The  reader  is  recommended  to  rule  several 
pages  of  a  blank  book,  and  to  practice  keep 
ing  a  Day  Book  according  to  the  instructions 
herein  contained.  By  this  it  is  not  meant 
that  he  should  simply  copy  or  confine  him 
self  to  the  forms  given  in  these  pages.  He 
should,  beginning  with  the  Cash  and  Day 
Books,  open  a  complete  set  of  books,  and 
keep  them  as  though  he  were  actually  en 
gaged  in  business,  extending  them  as  far  as 
possible,  and  posting  them  as  directed  in 
these  instructions.  This  will  give  him  an 
amount  of  practice  which  will  be  found  very 
useful. 


Purchases  and  Sales  of  Merchandise. 

January  10,  189  . — Bought  from  John  Wanamaker  bill  of  goods  amounting  to  $652.75.  Bought  from  Straw- 
hridpe  &  Clothier  a  number  of  articles  amounting  to  $126.37.  Bought  from  Coffin,  Altemus  &  Co.  a  case  oi 
Iviuslin  for  $141.63.  Received  from  Wood,  Brown  &  Co.  Cassimeres  to  the  amount  of  $1394.60.  Bought  from 
Morris  &  Lewis  Beavers  amounting  to  $3264.48.  Bought  of  Hood,  Bonbright  &  Co.  Dry  Goods  to  the  amount 
of  $463.74- 

Sold  M.  L.  Waterhouse  &  Sons,  Frankford,  Phila.,  Beavers  to  the  amount  of  $326.48.  Sold  Curwen  Stod- 
dart  &  Bro.  Beavers  to  the  amount  of  $652.50.  Sold  S.  C.  Webster  &  Son  Dry  Goods  *r»  the  amount  of  $231.87. 
Sold  Mrs.  M.  D.  Graham,  Dover,  Del.,  goods  to  the  amount  of  $75. 

Inventory  of  stock  on  hand  amounts  to  $5500. 


BOOK-KEEPING. 


385 


These  entries  taken  from  the  Day  Book,  through  the  Journal,  will  appear  in  the  Men 
chaudise  Account  of  the  Ledger  as  follows : 

Dr.  MDSE.  o. 


i89 

189 

Jan. 

10 

ToJ.  Wanamaker 

8 

652 

75 

Jan. 

10 

By  M.  L.  Waterhouse 

8 

326 

48 

Strawbridge  &  Clothier 
Coffin,  A.  &Co. 

8 
8 

126 

37  , 
63 

"   Curwen  Stoddart  &  Co. 
"   S.  C.  Webster  &  Son 

8 
8 

652 

231 

50 

Wood,  B.  &  Co. 

8 

1394 

60 

"   Mrs.  M.  D.  Graham 

8 

75 

00 

Morris  &  Lewis 

8 

3264 

78 

"    Inventory 

12 

55oo 

00 

Hood,  Bonbright  &  Co. 

8 

463 

74 

Loss  and  Gait? 

15 

741 

98 

6785 

85 

- 

6785 

85 

189 
Jan. 

3! 

To  Inventory 

14 

5500 

00 

PERSONAL  ACCOUNTS. 

A  PERSONAL  ACCOUNT  is  an  account  with 
either  an  Individual,  a  Firm,  or  a  Corpora 
tion,  or  with  such  a  natural  or  legal  person 
as  may  sue  or  be  sued  at  law. 

An  Account  bearing  the  name  of  an  Indi 
vidual,  Firm,  or  Corporation  should  be 
debited  for  all  moneys  paid,  all  goods  sold} 
or  for  property  of  any  sort  or  kind  transfer 
red  to  such  individual,  firm,  or  corporation. 

Such  an  Account  should  be  credited  for 
all  moneys  received,  or  goods  bougiit,  or  for 
property  of  any  sort  or  kind  received  from 
such  individual,  firm,  or  corporation. 

If  the  sum  of  the  debits  of  such  an  Account 
is  greater  than  the  sum  of  the  credits,  the 
individual,  firm,  or  corporation  is  in  debt, 
and  constitutes  what  is  called  in  business  a 
Book  Account  due  to  the  merchant  or  busi 
ness  man,  or  an  Asset,  or  a  Resource,  and 
will  close  "  By  Balance."  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  sum  of  the  credits  is  greater  than 
the  sum  of  the  debits,  the  merchant  or  busi 
ness  man  owes  the  individual,  firm,  or  cor 


poration,  and  it  is  called  a  Liability,  and  will 
be  closed  "To  Balance." 

A  very  great  assistance  to  the  book-keeper 
in  checking  his  books  is  the  habit,  now  well- 
nigh  universal,  of  sending  out  statements  of 
accounts  on  the  first  of  each  month,  by  which 
we  learn  whether  or  not  the  books  of  our 
customers  agree  with  our  books,  and,  receiv 
ing  from  those  to  whom  we  are  indebted, 
similar  statements,  we  learn  how  our  ac 
counts  appear  on  the  Ledgers  of  those  to 
whom  we  are  indebted,  and  thus  is  insti 
tuted  a  comparison  between  our  accounts  as 
they  appear  on  their  books  and  their  ac 
counts  as  they  appear  on  our  books. 

This  matter  of  sending  out  monthly  state 
ments  should  be  borne  in  mind,  because  it  is 
of  assistance  to  the  book-keeper  in  testing 
the  correctness  of  his  books,  as  well  as  for 
its  importance  to  the  financial  management 
of  the  business.  One  can  never  be  too 
prompt  in  making  monthly  statements. 

Personal  Accounts  are  Non-specitlative 
Accounts. 


Business  Transacted  with  Individuals,  Firms  and  Corporations. 

February  10,  189  . — Sold  Robert  Boyd,  bill  of  Oils  and  Paints  to  amount  of  $135.50.  Also  sold  him  IDC 
shares  Reading  R.  R.  Stock,  @  $30  a  share,  $3000.  Bought  of  him  100  shares  Penna.  R.  R.  Stock,  @  $52  a 
share,  $5200.  Received  from  him  Cash  for  amount  of  bill  of  goods  sold  him,  $135.50.  Paid  him,  on  account  of 
balance  due  on  exchange  of  Railroad  Stocks,  $1000. 

25 


386  BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 

This  will  appear  in  Robert  Boyd's  Account  of  the  Ledger  as  follows : 
Dr.  ROBERT  BOVD. 


Cr. 


I8q 

1 

189 

Feb. 

10 

To  Mdse. 

10 

13550 

Feb. 

10 

By  Penna.  R.  R.  Stock 

10 

5200 

oc 

" 

" 

"   Reading  R.  R.  Stock 

10 

3000 

00 

" 

"  Cash 

10 

i.\S 

SO 

M 

" 

"  Cash 

10 

1000 

oo 

. 

*    * 

" 

"  Balance 

1200 

oo 

.  •  —  ;  

5335 

50 

5335 

5C 

I 

189 

Feb. 

10 

By  Balance 

1  200 

00 

"*.t  vtill  be  noticed  that  Personal  Accounts, 
be  they  with  individuals,  firms,  or  corpora 
tions,  are  debited  for  all  values  give*  to  them, 
and  credited  for  all  values  rece''  /ed  from 
them.  The  observance  of  this  p<  .nciple  will 
be  of  benefit  in  all  book-keeping. 

BILLS  RECEIVABLE  ACCOUNT. 

A  Bill  Receivable  is  a  written  obligation 
for  the  unconditional  payment  of  a  certain 
sum  of  money  at  a  specified  time  to  a  certain 
person,  his  order  or  bearer,  without  interest, 

The  language  of  a  negotiable  promissory 
The  following  are  the  more  common  forms. 


issued  by  any  one  but  the  merchant,  and 
payable  to  him  by  virtue  of  the  written 
promise  contained  in  it.  It  may  be  either  a 
negotiable  promissory  note,  or  an  acceptance 
of  a  time  draft. 

Bills  Receivable  Account  in  the  Ledger 
is  debited  whenever  such  a  note  or  draft  is 
received,  and  is  credited  whenever  such  a 
note  or  draft  is  transferred  to  another,  either 
in  the  course  of  trade,  or  when  surrendered 
to  the  maker  upon  payment. 

note  varies  in  different  States  of  the  Union 


Philad^a,  March  15,  189   . 

Thirty  days  after  date,  T promise  to  pay 

/»  the  order  of  Skarpless  Brothers 

Seventeen  hundred  and  fifty ^fa  Dollars, 

at  the  Girard  National  Bank,  without  defalcation,  value  received. 

No.  12.     Due  4/!4/iflg  .  Edward  Hayworth. 


Baltimore,  Md.,June  14, 


Thiity  days  after  date,  J  promise  to  pay 
to  the  order  of  Jno.  W.  Garrett's  Sons 
Three  hundred  and  eighty-seven 
value  received. 
No.  3.    Due 


llars. 


A.  B.  L< 


Drafts  are  sometimes  drawn  after  date  and  sometimes  after  sight.  Those  drawn  aftei 
date,  if  accepted,  are  payable  the  prescribed  time,  plus  three  days  of  grace,  after  the  date  of 
the  instrument.  Those  drawn  after  sight  are  payable  the  prescribed  time,  plus  grace,  after 
acceptance.  In  neither  case  are  they  binding  upon  the  person  upon  whom  they  a  'e  drawn, 
unless  he  agrees  to  honor  them  by  his  written  acceptance  across  the  face.  An  3  'ceptano* 
of  a  draft  is  as  binding  upon  the  person  who  signs  it,  as  is  his  signature  to  a  note. 


BOOK-KEEPING. 

Form  of  After-date  Draft. 

Philadelphia^  May  sq,  j8g  . 

Thirty  days after  datet 

pay  to  the  order  of  IVm.  W.  Alcorn  <Sr*  Co 

Three  hundred. -£fa  Dollart^ 

value  received,  and  charge  same  to  the  account  of 

ToJ.  5.  Keller  &>  Co.,  Edward  H.  Morris* 

3^27  Market  Street,  Phila. 
No.  j i.     Due  6/2817 1 1 j<?  . 

Indorsement  on  face  of  draft. 

Accepted  June  /,  /<??  . 
Payable  at  Corn  Exchange 
Nat.  Bank. 

J.  S.  KELLER  CV  CO. 

Form  of  After-sight  Draft. 

j.  Philadelphia,  June  1 1 189  . 

Thirty  days ....„..,> after  sight  pay  to  the  order 

efBerwind,  White  &*  Co _..... .,. „ 

Four  hundred  and  Thirty J *£fa  Dollars^ 

value  received,  and  charge  same  to  account  of 

To  Geo.  W.  Pine,  Samuel  W.  Heat. 

1033  Chestnut  St.,  Phila. 
No.  23.    Due 


Indorsement  on  face  of  draft. 

Accepted  June  5,  r8o  . 
Payable  at  Girard  National 
Bank. 

GEO.  W.  PINE. 


Received  and  disposed  of  negotiable  Promissory  notes  and  acceptances  as  follows: 

June  14,  189  .—Received  of  Jno.  W.  Boughton  his  note  at  30  days,  dated  to-day,  for  $300.  Received  of 
/oa.  Hoffman  his  draft  at  30  days'  sight,  drawn  on  and  accepted  by  Jas.  Vincent  for  $250.  Received  of  John 
Moore  his  note  at  60  days,  dated  to-day,  for  $450.  Received  of  John  Ray  his  draft  on  Jno.  P.  Orne  at  30  days 
after  date,  accepted  by  Orne,  for  $700. 

Discounted  at  College  Bank,  Jno.  W.  Boughton 's  note  of  this  date,  for  $300.  Gave  Allen,  Scott  &  Co.,  on 
account,  John  Moore's  note  of  this  date,  for  $450. 

July  lyth. — Received  Cash  from  Jno.  F.  Orne  for  his  acceptance  of  Jno.  Ray's  draft  of  June  I4th,  due  to  me, 
$700. 


This  will  appear  in  Bills  Receivable  Account  of  the  ledger  as  follows: 


Dr. 


RECEIVABLE. 


Cr. 


189 

I 

189 

i 

Jane 

14 

41 

To  J.  W.  Boughton 
"  Jos.  Hoffman 

14 

300 
250 

oo 
oo 

June 
ii 

14 

By  Cash 
"   A.  Scott  ACo. 

14 

300 
45° 

oo 
oo 

M 

" 

"  Jno.  Moore 

M 

450 

oo 

July 

i? 

"  Cash 

14 

700 

oo 

M 

14 

"  Jno.  Ray 

14 

700 

00 

31 

"  Balance 

250 

oo 

1700 

oo 

1700 

oo 

•i89 

31 

To  Balance 

250 

oo 

i 

388 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


It  will  be  noticed  that  Bills  Receivable  Account  is  always  debited  when  notes  and 
accepted  drafts  payable  to  the  merchant  or  business  man  are  received  and  credited 
whenever  such  notes  and  accepted  drafts  are  transferred  to  others. 


BILLS  PAYABLE  ACCOUNT. 

A  Bill  Payable  is  a  written  obligation  for 
the  unconditional  payment  of  a  certain  sum 
of  money  at  a  specified  time  to  a  certain 
person,  his  order  or  bearer,  without  interest, 
issued  by  one  and  payable  by  him  by  virtue 
of  his  written  promise  contained  in  it.  It 
has  to  some  extent  the  force  of  a  note,  given 
over  the  signature  of  the  one  who  is  obli 
gated  to  the  amount  named  in  the  note. 

Bills  Payable  Account  is  credited  when 
one  issues,  either  in  the  form  of  a  promissory 
note,  or  of  an  acceptance  of  a  time  draft 
drawn  upon  him,  such  a  written  obligation, 
and  it  is  debited  when  one  redeems  such 
obligations. 

The  language  of  a  Bills  Payable  is  the 
same  as  that  of  a  Bills  Receivable.  It  is 
called  a  Bills  Payable  when  one  is  uncondi 
tionally  liable  as  maker  or  acceptor  of  the 
obligation,  and  it  is  called  a  Bills  Receivable 
when  it  is  held  by  some  other  person  than 
the  maker  or  acceptor.  The  same  note  or 
acceptance  has  both  names  applied  to  it ; 
that  is,  it  is  both  a  Bills  Receivable  and  a 
Bills  Payable.  It  is  a  Bills  Payable  only  to 
one  person.  All  other  persons  who  may 
become  holders  of  it,  call  it  a  Bills  Receiv 
able.  The  name  is  not  applied  because  the 
note  or  acceptance  is  received  by  the  mer 
chant,  or  parted  with  by  him,  but  the  name 
arises  from  the  relation  which  the  holder 
bears  to  the  note  or  acceptance.  If,  as  above 
stated,  the  relation  be  that  of  payor  of  the 
note  or  acceptance  when  due,  the  payor  will 


call  it  a  Bills  Payable,  and  all  other  persons 
who  may  have  handled  the  note  or  accept 
ance  call  it  a  Bills  Receivable. 

STORE  FIXTURES  ACCOUNT. 

A  storekeeper  needs  shelving,  counters, 
desks,  a  fireproof  safe,  etc.,  and  when  he  pur 
chases  such  property  for  his  own  use,  he  does 
not  charge  it  to  Merchandise,  because  he  does 
not  buy  the  shelving,  etc.,  for  the  purpose  of 
selling  it,  nor  would  it  be  just  tc  his  business 
to  pay  for  such  property  and  call  it  an  expense 
of  business ;  for,  if  he  should  sell  out,  these 
fixtures  would  constitute  a  valuable  piece  of 
property,  which  he  could  sell  to  his  succes 
sor,  or,  if  he  were  to  go  out  of  business,  they 
could  be  sold  to  a  dealer  in  fixtures.  The 
rule  requiring  a  separate  account  to  be  kept 
of  fixtures,  in  distinction  from  merchandise 
is  very  serviceable  and  should  be  observed. 

Again,  if  the  business  man  was  not  a  store- 
keeper5  but  a  manufacturer,  he  would  need 
to  buy  machinery,  tools,  etc.,  and  'n  some 
departments  of  business  this  account  ,vould 
be  called  "  Machinery  and  Tools." 

Store  Fixtures,  or  Machinery  and  l^ools,  or 
Furniture,  would  be  debited  for  the  full  value 
of  all  such  property  purchased,  and  would  be 
credited  in  case  any  of  it  should  ever  be  sold. 

These  are  Speculative  Accounts  and  must 
be  credited  with  the  amount  of  Inventory  of 
Stock  on  hand  in  each,  and  the  accounts 
then  closed  into  Loss  and  Gain. 

After  closing  and  ruling  these  accounts, 
they  must  be  debited  "To  Inventory"  for 
the  amount  of  the  stock  on  hand. 


Store  Fixtures  Purchased  and   Sold. 

March  9,  189  . — Bought  of  Amos  Hillborn  &  Co.  Office  Desks  and  Chairs,  costing  $150.  Bought  from 
Marvin  Safe  Co.  one  large  double  Fireproof  Safe,  $225.  Bought  of  Cornelius  &  Co.  Gas  Fixtures  for  office,  $60. 
Wm.  C.  Merritt  has  put  up  Shelving  and  Counters  and  sent  me  his  bill,  amounting  to  $85. 

July  5,  189  .—Sold  for  Cash,  to  a  dealer,  my  Office  Desks  for  $60.  Bought  of  Hall  &  Garrison  new  double 
Desk,  $50. 


BOOK-KEEPING. 

This  will  appear  in  a  Store  Fixtures  Account  of  the  Ledger  as  follows: 
Dr.  STORE;  FIXTURES. 


Cr. 


189 

189 

Mar. 

9 

To  A.  Hillborn  &  Co. 

19 

ISO 

00 

July 

5 

By  Cash 

19 

60 

oo 

i< 

"  Marvin  Safe  Co. 

19 

225 

oo 

ii 

" 

"  Cornelius  &  Co. 

19 

60 

00 

ii 

« 

"  W.  C.  Merritt 

*9 

85 

00 

July 

5 

"  Hall  &  Garrison 

19 

50 

00 

EXPENSE  ACCOUNT. 

This  is  an  account  which  enables  a  busi 
ness  man  to  gather  together  all  the  running 
expenses  of  his  business  in  one  place  for  any 
given  period.  It  informs  him  of  the  outgo, 
while  other  accounts  show  ^"Ji  what  the 
income  and  profit  are. 

It  is  debited  for  all  moneys  paid,  or  liabil 
ities  incurred,  from  which  no  direct  return 
is  expected,  as,  for  instance,  rent  of  store, 
hire  of  clerks,  advertising,  etc.  Under  this 
general  head  or  account  is  cnarged  up  on 
the  debit  side  everything  that  is  expended 
in  the  conduct  of  the  business,  except  that 
spent  for  the  commodities  in  which  one 
deals,  and  such  matters  as  have  been  pre 
viously  described  as  Store  Fixtures,  or 
Machinery  and  Tools,  etc.,  or  Furniture. 
It  is  frequently  subdivided.  If  one  desires 
to  know  just  how  much  is  spent  for  rent, 
he  opens  a  Rent  Account  and  charges  that 
account  with  the  money  either  paid  for  rent, 
or  owed  for  rent,  and  does  not  put  it  in 
Expense  Account.  If,  for  any  reason,  the 
merchant  desires  to  know  how  much  he  is 
spending;  for  clerk  hire,  he  opens  an  account 
called  Salary  Account  or  Clerk  Hire  Account 
If  one  desires  to  know  how  much  he  is 
spending  for  Postage,  he  may  open  a  Post 
age  Account,  and  not  charge  postage  until 
the  end  of  the  year,  when  he  would  debit 
Expense  for  the  whole  sum.  In  general, 
it  may  be  said  that  where  the  amounts  spent 
for  a  particular  kind  of  expense  are  large,  it 
is  good  usage  to  open  a  specific  account  for 
that  kind  of  expense,  leaving  the  Expense 


Account  to  be  charged  only  with  those 
things  which  cannot  be  very  well  individ 
ualized,  and  which  would  not  amount  to 
any  considerable  sum  in  a  year. 

Expense  is  a  Speculative  Account,  and 
•closes  into  Loss  and  Gain. 

REAL  ESTATE  ACCOUNT. 

This  is  the  name  of  a  Ledger  Account  to 
which  is  charged  the  cost  of  all  Real  Estate, 
consisting  either  of  land  or  buildings,  or 
both.  It  is  frequently  the  case  that  a  book 
keeper  has  as  many  Real  Estate  Accounts  as 
there  are  independent  properties  possessed, 
and  they  are  distinguished  one  from  another 
by  words  in  the  title  of  the  account  denot 
ing  the  Reality,  or  previous  owners  of  the 
property. 

Real  Estate  Account  is  debited  with  its 
cost,  with  repairs  and  all  taxes. 

It  is  credited  for  the  sales  and  for  all  rents 
received. 
DISCOUNT  AND  INTEREST  ACCOUNT. 

This  account  is  debited  for  all  moneys 
which  one  pays  for  money  borrowed,  and  for 
all  discounts  allowed  debtors  on  their  bills 
for  payment  of  the  same  before  maturity. 
It  is  credited  for  all  moneys  received  for  the 
loan  of  money,  or  for  discounts  allowed  by 
creditors  for  the  payment  of  bills  before 
maturity.  The  importance  of  this  account 
will  be  seen  when  we  consider  that  a  large 
part  of  business  is  carried  on  by  loans  and 
discounts. 

It  is  a  Speculative  Account^  and  closes  into 
LOSS  and  Gain. 


'  390  BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 

Discounts  received  and  alloived,  and  transactions  with  others  involving  interest. 

June  i,  189  . — Received  from  J.  B.  Lippincott  Co.  an  allowance  of  5  per  cent,  for  cash  payment  of  bill  of 
May  28,  $13.93.  Allowed  Granville  B.  Haines  &  Co.,  3  per  cent,  discount  for  cash  settlement  of  bill  of  May  21, 
$48.37.  Paid  Guarantee  Trust  Co.  4  months'  interest  on  my  loan  from  them  of  $5000,  $100.  The  College  Bank 
charged  me  for  discounting  a  bill  receivable  for  $900,  @  3  months,  $14. 10.  I  discounted  for  R.  J.  Allen  his  note 
for  $1000,  and  charged  him  discount  of  $15. 

This  would  appear  in  Discount  and  Interest  Account  of  the  Ledger  as  follows : 
Dr.  DISCOUNT  AND  INTEREST.  Cr. 


139 

189 

I 

rat 

June 

w  « 

T 

To  G.  B.  Haines  &  Co. 
"  Guarantee  Trust  Co. 

27 
27 

48 

IOO 

37 

00 

June 

I 

ByJ.  B.  I/ippincottCo 
"  Cash 

27 
27 

13 
15 

93 

00 

11 

"  Cash 

27 

14 

IO 

Debits  show  the  merchant  what  borrowing  money  and  collecting   his   bills  before 
maturity  has  cost  him. 

Credits  show  the  merchant  what  he  has  made  by  loaning  money  and  paying  his  bills 
before  maturity. 

When  closing  the  Ledger,  Material  Ac 
count  must  be  credited  for  the  amount  of 
material  on  hand  as  shown  by  the  Inventory, 
and  then  both  of  these  accounts  (Material 
and  Labor)  should  be  closed  into  Mer 
chandise  Account. 

They  are  Non-speculative  Accounts,  and 
are  kept  so  as  to  make  clear  just  how  much 
of  the  cost  of  the  manufactured  article  arises 
from  labor,  and  how  much  from  raw  material. 


MATERIAL  ACCOUNTS  AND 
LABOR  ACCOUNTS. 

In  a  manufacturing  business,  instead  of 
charging  directly  to  the  Merchandise  Account 
the  cost  of  production,  it  fe  a  well-approved 
custom  to  open  a  Material  Account  to  which 
is  charged  the  cost  of  the  raw  material,  and 
to  open  a  Labor  Account  to  which  is  charged 
the  wages  expended  upon  the  manufacture 
of  the  goods. 


Purchases  of  Raw  Material. 

June  16,  189  . — Bought  of  E.  A.  Greene  &  Co.  6000  Ibs.  Mestizo  Wool,  @  28c.  =  $1680.  Bought  of  Sheble  & 
Hill  lo.ooolbs.  Common  Domestic  Wool,  @  2oc.  =  $2000. 

This  would  appear  in  Material  Account  of  the  Ledger  as  follows  : 
Dr.  MATERIAL  ACCOUNT.  Or. 


189 

189 

June 

T6 

To  E.  A.  Greene  &  Co. 

29 

1680 

oo 

July 

i 

By  Mdse. 

29 

3680 

00 

« 

" 

"  Sheble  &  Hill 

29 

2OOO 

oo 

3680 

oo 

3680 

CXJ 

Payments  to  Artisans  for  Piecework! 

June  16,  189  . — Paid  Geo.  Doll,  for  week's  work  at  loom,  $13.     Paid  Jos.  Cook,  for  loom  work,  $14.50.  Paid 
And.  Wagner,  for  designs  for  carpets,  $35.25. 

This  would  appear  in  the  Labor  Account  of  the  Ledger  as  follows : 
Dr.  LABOR  ACCOUNT.  Cr. 


*t*r 

189 

tone 

M 

16 
ii 

To  Geo.  Doll 
"  Jos.  Cook 

29 

29 

13 
14 

00 

50 

July 

i 

By  Mdse. 

29 

62 

75 

«t 

"  Andrew  Wagner 

29 

35 

25 

_____  '  " 

62 

75 

62 

75 

BOOK-KEEPING. 


CAPITAL  ACCOUNT. 

The  Capital  Account  is  variously  named 
by  book-keepers.  By  some  the  name  of  the 
Proprietor  of  the  business  is  used ;  by  others 
the  word  "Stock,"  and  some  call  it  the  Cap 
ital  Account.  The  name  Stock  is  quite 
aged,  but  it  is  often  misunderstood  by 
learners  as  having  something  to  do  with 
the  stock  of  goods  on  hand  when  the  Inven 
tory  is  taken.  The  use  of  the  name  of  the 
Proprietor  as  a  caption  for  this  account  is 
growing  in  favor,  and  where  there  is  more 
than  one  proprietor  it  is  positively  necessary 
that  the  names  of  the  proprietors  should  be 
used. 

This  account  is  debited  for  "his  liabilities 
and  credited  for  his  resources  t. .,  the  time  of 
beginning  business,  it  is  also  debited  for  any 
withdrawals  of  capital  made  by  the  proprie 
tor  and  credited  for  any  additional  invest 
ments  made  by  him ;  but  if  the  withdrawals 
made  by  him  are  for  personal  expenses,  they 
should  be  kept  in  a  personal  expense  account 
until  the  closing  of  the  Ledger,  and  should 
then  be  charged  up  to  the  Capital  Account 


391 

in  one  lump  sum.  It  is  also  debited  at  the 
time  of  settling  the  business  for  the  net  loss, 
if  one  has  been  made,  or  credited  with  the 
net  gain  found  to  have  been  made  at  the 
time  of  settling  business. 

In  some  cases  this  account  is  credited  with 
interest  on  investments,  and  debited  for 
interest  on  withdrawals.  In  other  cases  no 
investments  are  to  be  accounted  for. 

The  net  capital  invested  in  the  business  is 
found  by  subtracting  the  sum  of  the  debits 
from  the  sum  of  the  credits.  It  is  what  the 
business  owes  the  proprietor,  because  it  is 
the  amount  by  which  the  resources  exceed 
the  liabilities.  In  an  adverse  condition  of 
business  the  sum  of  the  debits  may  be  the 
larger.  If  so,  it  shows  net  insolvency,  which 
is  the  amount  that  the  proprietor  needs  to 
put  into  the  business  to  enable  the  debts 
to  be  paid.  The  net  capital  is  shown  by 
the  entry  "To  Balance"  above  the  ruling, 
and  net  insolvency  is  shown  by  the  entry 
"By  Balance"  above  the  ruling. 

Capital  Account  is  a  Not*-speculative 
Account. 


Transactions  which  belong-  in  the  Capital  Account. 

January  I,  189  . — J.  F.  Morris  and  A.  B.  Lewis  have  formed  a  copartnership,  under  the  firm  name  of  Morris 
&  Lewis.  Morris  invests  Merchandise  tc  the  amount  of  $1500 ;  Cash,  $2000 ;  Bills  Receivable,  $1000.  The 
business  is  to  pay  off  certain  of  his  promissory  notes,  to  the  amount  of  $500,  and  amounts  which  he  owes — Terry 
&  Co.,  $600,  and  Folwell  Bros.  &  Co.,  $400.  The  net  amount  invested  by  him  is,  therefore,  $3000.  A.  B.  Lewis 
invests :  Cash,  $2000;  Merchandise,  $2500;  Bills  Receivable,  $2000,  and  the  business  is  to  pay  off  certain  of  his 
promissory  notes  to  the  amount  of  $  1200.  His  net  investment  is,  therefore,  $5300. 

July  i,  189  . — The  business  is  settled,  showing  a  net  gain  of  $6800,  one-half  of  which  goes  to  Lewis  and  one* 
half  to  Morris. 

This  would  appear  in  the  proprietors'  Capital  Accounts  of  the  Ledger  as  follows: 
Dr.  J.  F.  MORRIS  (CAPITAI,  ACCOUNT).  Cr. 


189  1 

189 

Jan 

T 

To  Bills  Payable 

32 

500 

oo 

Jan. 

i 

By  Mdse. 

31 

1500 

00 

14 

" 

"  Terry  &  Co. 

32 

600 

oo 

" 

"   Cash 

31 

2000 

00 

« 

" 

"  Folwell,  Bro.  &  Co. 

32 

400 

00 

«< 

(t 

'   Bills  Receivable 

V 

IOOO 

00 

July 

I 

"  Balance 

6400 

oo 

July 

i 

"  Loss  and  Gain 

32 

3400 

00 

7900 

00 

7900 

oo 

189 
July 

i 

By  Balance 

6400 

oo 

392 

Dr. 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 
A.  B.  LEWIS  (CAPITAI,  ACCOUNT). 


Cr. 


189 

189 

—  • 

Jan. 

i 

To  Bills  Payable 

32 

1  200 

oo 

Jan. 

i 

By  Cash 

32 

2OOO 

OO 

July 

i 

"  Balance 

8700 

oo 

" 

" 

"   Mdse. 

32 

25OO 

00 

—  . 

" 

« 

"   Bills  Receivable 

32 

2000 

00 

____—  " 

July 

i 

"   Loss  and  Gain 

32 

3400 

00 

9900 

00 

9900 

00 

189 
July 

i 

By  Balance 

8700 

00 

This  account  will  be  debited  for  the  business  man's  liabilities,  withdrawals,  etc.,  for 
the  net  loss,  and  sometimes  for  interest  on  withdrawals.  It  is  credited  for  investments  of 
all  sorts,  net  gain,  and  sometimes  interest  on  investments. 


PERSONAL,  EXPENSE  ACCOUNT,  OB 
PRIVATE  ACCOUNT. 

This  account  is  debited  for  what  the  busi 
ness  man  takes  out  for  his  personal  use,  or 
for  the  maintenance  of  his  family.  It  is  very 
rarely  ever  credited.  It  should  not  be  credited 
except  when  the  merchant  returns  some  of 
the  money  which  he  had  previously  drawn. 


The  Account  is  opened  and  kept  to  enable 
the  bookkeeper  to  charge  against  the  Mer 
chant's  Capital  Account  his  personal  expenses 
in  one  sum. 

It  is  a  Non-speculative  Account,  and  is 
closed  into  the  Capital  Account  at  the  time 
of  closing  the  Ledger. 


Amounts  Drawn  Out  by  a  Merchant  for  Personal  and  Family  Use. 

February  i,  189  .—A.  B.  Lewis  drew  out,  for  ais  own  use,  $200.     March  I5th. — He  withdrew  $300.    June 
gth. — He  drew  out  $500. 

This  would  appear  in  the  Merchant's  Personal  Account  of  the  Ledger  as  follows  : 
Dr.  A.  B.  LEWIS'  PERSONAL  EXPENSES.  Cr. 


I8q 

189 

Feb. 

i 

To  Cash 

32 

200 

oo 

July 

z 

By  A.  B.  L.  Cap.  Ac. 

32 

IOOO 

00 

Mar. 

1,5 

"    do 

32 

30000 

— 

June 

9 

"    do 

32 

500 

oo 

•  ~ 

1000 

00 

IOOO 

00 

INVENTORY  ACCOUNT. 

This  account  is  debited  for  the  amount  of  goods  and  other  property  on  hand  at  the 
time  of  taking  an  account  of  stock,  and  is  credited  for  the  same  after  the  losses  and  gains 
have  been  ascertained. 

It  is  a  Non-speculative  Account. 

Account  of  Stock  of  Mitchell,  Fletcher  &  Co. 

Merchandise,  $9763.38.     Store  Building,  $9000.     Counters,  Shelving,   Desks,  Chairs,  Fireproof  Safe,  Ga» 
fixtures,  etc.,  $1625.     100 shares  Reading  Railroad  Stock  @  32,  $3200. 


BOOK-KEEPING. 

This  would  appear  in  Inventory  Account  of  the  Ledger  as  follows : 
Dr.  INVENTORY. 


393 


Cr. 


""189 

189 

I 

To  Mdse. 

35 

9763 

38 

July 

1 

By  Mdse. 

35 

9763 

38 

"  Real  Estate 

35 

9000 

oo 

ii 

"  Real  Estate 

35 

9000 

0} 

H 

ii 

"  Store  Fixtures 

35 

1625 

oo 

" 

ii 

"  Store  Fixtures 

35 

1625 

or* 

M 

ii 

"  Reading  Rail  Road  Stock 

35 

3200 

oo 

H 

" 

"  Reading  Rail  Road  Stock 

35 

3200 

00 

23,588 

38 

23,588 

3« 

•_— 

LOSS  AND  GAIN  ACCOUNT. 

and  Gain  Account  is  debited  with  all 
losses  and  credited  with  all  gains.  The  dif 
ference  between  the  sum  of  the  debits  and 
the  sum  of  the  credits  is  the  net  gain  or  net 
loss.  If  the  sum  of  the  debits  is  the  greater, 
it  is  a  net  loss ;  if  the  sum  of  the  credits  is 


the  greater  it  is  a  net  gain. 

Into  this  account  are  brought  all  the  losses 
and  gains  which  have  occurred  in  the  busi 
ness,  and  they  are  here  compared  and  the  net 
gain  or  loss  determined. 

It  is  a  Non-speculative  Account,  and  closes 
into  the  Capital  Account 


Schedule  of  Losses  and  Gains. 

July  i,  189  . — Porter  &  Coates,  on  closing  their  Ledger  for  the  year,  find  that  thsy  have  gained  :  On  Me 
chandise,  $21,630.80;  on  Real  Estate  sold  during  the  year,  $2,800  ;  on  Discount  and  Interest,  $963.40 ;  onPeni. 
R.  R.  Stock,  $1140;  on  Phila.  &  Reading  R.  R.  Stock,  $813. 

They  have  lost:  On  Expense  Account,  $581.60 ;  on  Salary  Account,  $9830;  on  Rent,  $5000. 

Their  net  gain  for  the  year  is,  therefore,  $11,935.60. 


This  would  appear  in  Loss  and  Gain  Account  of  the  Ledger  as  follows  °. 
Dr.  Loss  AND  GAIN. 


fr. 


189 

i 

189 

July 

I 

To  Expense 

^ 

58i 

60 

July 

i 

By  Mdse. 

36 

21,630 

80 

«i 

II 

"  Salary 

3C 

9830 

oo 

ii 

1  1 

"  Real  Estate 

36 

2800 

00 

« 

II 

"  Rent 

36 

5000 

oo 

it 

H 

"  Discount  and  Interest 

36 

963 

40 

« 

II 

"  Porter 

36 

5967 

80 

ii 

ii 

"  Pa.  R.  R.  Stock 

36 

1140 

00 

u 

" 

"  Coates 

36 

5967 

80 

ii 

" 

"  P.  &  R.  R.  R.  Stock 

36 

813 

00 

27,347 

20 

27,347 

20 

Debits  are  losses ;  Credits  are  gains. 

SHIPMENT  ACCOUNTS. 

Shipments  are  names  given  to  accounts  to 
which  are  charged  the  cost  of  goods  sent  to 
be  sold  for  our  account  and  at  our  risk  by  a 
Factor,  or  Bailee,  called  a  Commission  Mer 
chant  The  account  is  kept  for  the  purpose 
of  ascertaining  the  gain  or  loss  on  goods  sent 
to  a  particular  person. 


At  the  time  of  shipping,  the  account,  by 
whatever  name  it  may  be  called,  is  debited 
for  the  cost  of  the  merchandise  and  all  ex 
penses  incurred  in  shipping  the  same.  It  is 
credited  for  the  net  sum  yielded  by  our  goods 
in  the  hands  of  the  Commission  Merchant. 

The  shipments  are  distinguished  one  from 
another  by  the  letters  of  the  Alphabet,  or  the 


394 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


Numerals,  or  by  naming  the  person  to  whom 
they  are  sent. 

Great  care  should  be  taken  when  crediting 
the  Shipments  for  net  proceeds,  to  charge 
them  to  the  Commission  Merchant  as  a 


the  business  man's  money,  not  as  a  debt  due 
to  the  business  man,  but  as  the  business 
man's  funds  in  trust  until  they  are  remitted, 
and  returned  to  the  proper  owner. 

These  are  Speculative  Accounts,  and  close 
into  Loss  and  Gain. 


Factor,  and  not  as  a  person,  for  he  holds 

Goods  sent  to  be  sold  at  our  risk  and  on  our  account,  and  returns  for  same. 

January  2,  189  .  —  Shipped  and  consigned  to  Charles  Berger,  to  be  sold  on  our  account  and  at  our  risk, 
ds-  Brussels  Carpet,  @  650.,  $97.50  ;  500  yds.   Ingrain  Carpet,  @  soc.,  $250.00  ;  looo  yds.  Stair  Carpet, 


y 
$4 


50.00;  in  all,  $797.50.     Paid  shipping  expenses,  $7.50. 
sales,  showing  our  net  proceeds  to  be  $772.56. 


450., 
Received  from  Charles  Berger  an  account  of 


This  will  appear  in  the  Shipment  Account  of  the  Ledger  as  follows  : 
Dr.  SHIPMENT,  CHARLES  BERGER. 


189 

189 

Jan. 

2 

To  Mdse. 

3» 

797 

50 

Jan. 

13 

By  C.  Berger,  Factor 

39 

772 

56 

«( 

"  Cash 

3« 

7 

50 

Debits  show  the  cost  of  the  goods  sent,  and  also  the  expenses,  and  credits  what  they 
produce. 


SHIPMENTS  IN  COMPANY. 

This  is  the  name  given  to  an  account 
representing  the  business  man's  interest  in  a 
lot  of  goods  sent  to  be  sold  partially  at  his 
risk  and  partially  on  his  account. 

Shipment  in  Company  is  made  debtor  for 
the  cost  of  the  merchant's  interest  at  the  time 
the  goods  are  shipped,  and  it  is  credited  for 
the  net  proceeds  of  his  share  at  the  time  the 
commission  merchant  renders  the  account  of 
sales. 


Shipments  in  Company  are  distinguished 
one  from  another  by  letters  of  the  Alphabet 
or  Numerals,  in  the  same  manner  as  Ship 
ments. 

Care  should  be  taken  at  the  time  of  receiv 
ing  the  account  sales  from  the  commission 
merchant  to  charge  the  commission  merchant 
as  a  Factor  or  Bailee,  for  the  reasons  named 
under  the  head  of  Shipment  Accounts. 


These  are  Speculative  Accounts,  and  close 
into  Loss  and  Gain. 

Goods  sent  to  be  sold  partially  at  our  risk  and  partially  on  our  account,  and  returns  for 
same. 

June  I,  189  . — Shipped  to  Russell  &  Mason  1000  Bales  Cotton,  valued  at  $60,000,  on  which  they  are  to  assume 
one-fourth  of  the  risk  by  reason  of  having  paid  a  part  of  the  purchase  price.  They  are  to  have  a  proportionate 
share  of  the  gains.  Paid  expenses  of  shipment,  $12.50. 

July  3,  189  . — Received  account  sales  from  Russell  &  Mason  of  my  interest  in  the  shipment,  showing  my  net 
proceeds  to  be  $46,500. 

This  will  appear  in  the  Shipment  in  Company  Account  of  the  Ledger  as  follows  : 
Dr.  SHIPMENT  IN  Co.  WITH  RUSSELL  &  MASON.     A.  Cr. 


189 

189 

June 

i 

To  Mdse. 

40 

45  ,oco  oo 

July 

3 

By  R.  &  M.,  Factors 

40 

46,500 

00 

« 

"  Cash 

40 

9 

37 

, 

Debits  show  the  cost  of  the  merchant's  interest  in  the  Shipment  and  the  expenses  fbc 
his  share  of  same  ;  credits  show  what  that  interest  has  yielded  him. 


BOOK-KEEPING. 


395 


FACTOR'S  OB  BAILEE'S  ACCOUNTS. 

These  are  accounts  kept  by  the  business 
man  with  Commission  Merchants  engaged 
in  the  sale  of  his  goods. 

They  are  debited  for  the  net  proceeds  re 
ported  to  the  business  man  by  his  Commis 
sion  Merchant  on  each  account  sales,  and 
they  are  credited  whenever  the  money  or 
other  property  may  be  sent  by  the  Commis 
sion  Merchant  to  the  business  man. 

The  employment  of  the  account  enables  a 
business  man  to  prove  conclusively  the  rela 
tion  existing  between  himself  and  his  Com 
mission  Merchant;  that  the  Commission 
Merchant  holds  in  his  hands  in  trust  as  the 
property  of  the  business  man  anything 
that  may  be  to  the  debit  of  Factor's  Ac 
count.  It  enables  one  to  distinguish  clearly 
the  difference  between  debts  due  by  the  Fac 
tor  as  an  individual  and  moneys  held  by  him 
as  an  Agent,  or  Factor,  or  Bailee. 

CONSIGNMENTS,  SALES  ACCOUNTS,  Etc. 

These  are  names  given  to  Accounts  repre 
senting  goods  received  from  another  business 
house,  to  be  sold  on  its  account  and  at  its 
risk,  by  a  Commission  Merchant  as  a  Factor, 
or  Bailee,  or  Agent. 

Such  Accounts  are  debited  for  any  ex 
penses  incurred  in  receiving,  or  handling,  or 
storing  the  goods,  and  also  for  whatever  the 
Commission  Merchant  may  charge  for  the 
services  rendered  by  him  in  selling  them,  or 
guaranteeing  payment  for  same.  They  are 
credited  for  what  the  goods  bring  and  the 
difference  between  the  amount  for  which  the 
goods  are  sold  and  the  charges  of  the  Com 
mission  Merchant,  either  for  services  rendered 
or  money  expended,  belongs  to  the  Owner, 
and  is  held  by  the  Commission  Merchant  as 
the  Owner's  money,  in  trust,  until  it  is 
remitted.  Care  should  be  taken,  when  the 
Consignment  Account  is  closed,  that  credit 


will  be  given  to  the  Owner  as  Principal  or 
Bailor. 

These  are  Non-speculative  Accounts ;  for, 
after  the  Commission  Merchant  reimburses 
himself  for  his  outlay  and  pays  himself  for 
his  trouble,  the  balance  belongs  to  thg 
Owner. 

MERCHANDISE  COMPANY. 

This  is  a  name  given  to  an  account  of 
goods  received  from  another  business  man, 
to  be  sold  partially  at  his  risk  and  partially 
at  thj  commission  merchant's  risk. 

Such  accounts  are  debited  for  the  commis 
sion  merchant's  share  of  their  cost,  also  for 
moneys  expended  on  them  by  the  commis 
sion  merchant,  and  for  his  services  in  selling 
them,  as  well  as  for  the  net  proceeds  belong 
ing  to  the  shipper.-  They  are  credited  for 
the  sales  of  the  goods,  and  close  into  Loss 
and  Gain. 

They  are  Speculative  Accounts,  and  illu 
strate  very  clearly  the  difference  between  buy 
ing  goods  outright  and  receiving  u:em  to 
sell  them  at  another  person's  risk,  for  the 
shipper  must  be  credited  in  his  personal 
account  for  that  part  of  the  cost  of  the  goods 
on  which  the  commission  merchant  takes 
the  risk.  That  is  an  absolute  purchase  by 
the  commission  merchant  of  that  much  of 
the  goods,  and  he  owes  for  that  part  or  share 
of  them  as  he  owes  for  any  other  goods 
which  he  buys  outright ;  but  for  the  ship 
per's  net  proceeds  credit  should  be  given  to 
another  account  than  the  personal  account 
of  the  shipper,  called  by  his  name ;  with  the 
word  Principal,  or  Bailor,  added,  for  such 
money  belongs  to  the  shipper,  and  is  held 
by  the  commission  merchant  in  trust  foi 
him. 
PRINCIPAL'S  OR  BAILOR'S  ACCOUNTS. 

These  accounts  enable  the  Commission 
Merchant  to  show  with  clearness  that  in  cer* 
tain  transactions  he  is  acting  as  an  agent, 


396 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


and  that  certain  credits  on  his  books  are  not 
debts  due  by  him,  but  money  or  property 
belonging  to  his  principal,  held  by  him  in 
trust. 

They  are  credited  whenever  an  Account 
Sales  is  rendered,  and  the  Consignment 
Account,  or  Sales  Account,  is  closed  out. 
They  are  debited  whenever  the  money,  or  its 
equivalent,  is  remitted. 

They  are  Non-speculative  Accounts. 

COMMISSION  ACCOUNT.    GUARANTEE 
ACCOUNT. 

These  Accounts  are  credited  for  the  Com 
mission  charged  by  the  Commission  Merchant 
to  his  customers  -for  his  services  in  selling 
their  goods. 

It  is  very  rarely  ever  debited  ;  such  a  cir 
cumstance  could  only  arise  by  the  Commis 
sion  Merchant  getting  some  other  one  in  his 
line  of  business  to  aid  him  in  selling  the 
goods  and  giving  them  a  part  of  his  Com 
mission  for  doing  it.  In  any  such  case  Com 
mission  Account  would  be  debited. 

Guarantee  Account  is  sometimes  associated 
with  Commission  Account ;  that  is  to  say, 
the  Commission  allowed  by  the  business  man 
to  the  Commission  Merchant  may  be  intended 
to  cover  the  pay  for  selling  the  goods,  and 
also  a  recompense  for  guaranteeing  the  sound 
ness  of  the  accounts  made  by  selling  the 
goods  payable  at  some  future  time.  In  some 
lines  of  business  2}^  per  cent,  is  allowed  for 
selling  and  2>^  per  cent,  for  guaranteeing, 
and  the  5  per  cent,  is  credited  to  the  one 
account  called  "  Commission  and  Guarantee 
Account."  Some  book-keepers  may  prefer 
to  keep  a  Commission  Account  by  itself  and 
a  Guarantee  Account  by  itself. 

They  are  Speculative  Accounts,  and  close 
into  Loss  and  Gain. 

PRACTICAL,  DEDUCTIONS. 

Every  business  transaction  in  the  hands  of 
a  double-entry  book-keeper  requires : 


First. — Some  Ledger  Account,  or  Ac 
counts,  to  be  debited,  and  some  Ledger  Ac 
count,  or  Accounts,  to  be  credited. 

Second. — In  every  business  transaction,, 
the  debit,  or  sum  of  the  debits,  carried  to  the 
Ledger,  must  equal  the  credit,  or  sum  of  the 
credits,  taken  to  that  account. 

The  fundamental  law  of  book-keeping  by 
double  entry  is,  that  there  should  be  as  much 
placed  upon  the  debit  side  as  there  is  placed 
upon  the  credit  side,  and  no  business  can  be 
transacted,  however  slight,  which  does  not 
require  at  least  one  debit  and  one  credit  to 
be  made  in  the  Ledger, 

TRIAL,  BALANCES. 

One  of  the  most  perplexing  positions  the 
book-keeper  ever  occupies  is  at  the  time 
when  he  takes  off  a  trial  balance.  This  tg 
made  up  from  the  face  of  the  Ledger,  and 
consists  of  the  names  of  all  open  Ledger 
accounts,  with  their  debit  balances  in  one 
column  and  their  credit  balances  in  another 
column.  If  the  debit  balances  amount  to  a 
sum  equal  to  the  total  of  the  credit  balances, 
the  trial  balance  is  said  "to  come  out  all 
right,"  but  the  debit  side  of  the  Ledger  can 
be  equal  to  the  credit  side  of  the  Ledger, 
and  yet  the  Ledger  contain  many  errors; 
and  were  the  book-keeper  furnished  with 
no  better  proof  of  the  correctness  of  his 
work  he  would  have  very  little  ground  foi 
the  satisfaction  which  is  universally  felt  by 
a  book-keepei  when  his  trial  balance  does 
thus  "come  out  right."  A  little  reflection 
will  cause  it  to  appear  that  the  debit  and 
credit  balances  of  the  Ledger  can  be  equa1 
and  yet  errors  like  these  abound : 

i.  Errors  in  entering  a  transaction  in 
books  of  original  entry,  as,  for  instance,  a 
sale  in  the  Invoice  Book,  or  a  purchase  in 
the  Sales  Book ;  the  omission  of  the  whole 
of  a  transaction.  All  of  which  may  be 


BOOK-KEEPING. 


397 


described  in  a  general  way  as  mis-entries  in 
the  books  of  original  entry. 

2.  If  the  transaction  is  incorrectly  Journ 
alized;  that  is  to  say,  Bills  Payable  should 
be  credited   when   we  get  somebody  else's 
note  discounted,  or  anything  of  that  char 
acter.     To  be  spoken  of  in  general  as  mis 
takes  in  debiting  or  crediting. 

3.  Any  mistake  in  posting,  provided  the 
right  amount  has  been  taken  to  the  right 
side  of  the  Ledger,  but  to  a  wrong  account. 
Thus,  in  posting,  if  a  debit  belonging  to  A's 
account  is   taken   to  the  debit  side  of  B's 
account,  and  the  right  amount  is  used,  an 
error  will  be  produced  in  two  accounts,  and 
yet  there  will  not  be  any  disturbance  of  the 
equality  of  the  footings  of  the  trial  balance. 
Any  transposition  of  figures,  if  the  transpo 
sition   occurs  on  both  sides.     These  errors 
may  be  spoken  of  in  general  as  mis-posts. 

A.  practical,  satisfactory  check  upon  one 


in  book-keeping  is  the  custom,  almost  uni 
versal,  of  sending  out  statements  of  accounts 
to  debtors  at  the  beginning  of  each  month. 

If  the  recipient  should  find  he  is  over 
charged,  the  book-keeper  would  learn  his 
mistake. 

Trial  balances  are  taken  off  at  two  stated 
periods,  one  at  the  end  of  each  month  show 
ing  the  debtor  and  creditor  balances  of  all 
open  accounts,  and  one  taken  off  after  the 
Ledger  is  closed,  showing  the  debtor  and 
creditor  balances  of  all  accounts  which 
remain  open  at  that  time.  When  the 
entries  have  been  correctly  made  in  the 
Ledger,  and  the  trial  balance  taken  off  with* 
out  mistake,  the  debit  and  credit  columns  of 
balances  will  equal  each  other. 

Nothing  more,  however,  is  proven  by 
either  of  the  trial  balances  than  that  the 
Ledger  is  in  balance — a  satisfactory  thing 
for  every  book-keeper  to  know. 


A  Ledger,  and  the  Trial  Balance  of  Same. 

June  30,  189  . — The  Ledger  shows  the  following  balances  on  this  date :  Merchandise,  Dr.,  $2547.40;  Cash, 
Dr.,  $1547.84 ;  Bills  Payable,  Cr.,  $365 ;  John  Thomas,  Dr.,  $145.10 ;  Richard  Mann,  Dr.,  $75  ;  George  Brown,  Cr., 
|3«5.i5  ;  Alfred  Douglas,  Cr.,  $61.89  >  Store  Fixtures,  Dr.  $360 ;  Expense,  Dr.,  $76.70 ;  Students'  Capital  Account, 
Cr.,  14000. 

This  will  appear  in  the  Monthly  Trial  Balance  as  follows : 

TRIAI,  BALANCE,  JUNE,  189  . 


balances. 

Dr. 

Cr. 

I 
3 

Merchandise 
Cash 

2547 

40 

7 

Bills  Parable 

1547 

84 

9 

John  Thomas 

365 

oc 

10 

Richard  Mann 

145 

10 

ii 

Geo.  Brown 

75 

oo 

12 

T3 

Alfred  Douglass 
Store  Fixtures 

325 

61 

1C 

80 

14 
15 

Expense 
Students'  Capital  Account 

360 

76 

00 

70 

4000 

oo 

1 

4752 

04 

4752 

°4 

i 

BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


CLOSING  THE  LEDGER. 

A  very  interesting  branch  of  a  book 
keeper's  work  is  closing  the  Ledger.  There 
are  two  general  ways  of  closing  accounts: 
"To  or  By  Loss  and  Gain"  and  "To  or  By 
Balance."  To  close  an  account  is  to  make 
both  sides  equal.  In  the  process  of  closing 
the  Ledger,  all  the  losses  and  gains  that 
have  occurred  in  the  business  are  gathered 
together  in  the  Loss  and  Gain  Account,  and 
there  compared.  The  gains  are  placed  upon 
the  credit  side;  the  losses  upon  the  debit 
side.  When  the  credit  side  is  the  greater, 
the  account  is  closed  "To  Capital  Account," 
and  shows  a  net  gain.  The  opposite  entry, 
"By  Loss  and  Gain,"  is  made  in  the  Capital 
Account,  and  increases  the  capital.  When 
the  debtor  side  is  the  greater,  the  account  is 
closed,  "By  Capital  Account,"  and  shows  a 
net  loss.  The  opposite  entry,  "To  Loss  and 
Gain,"  is  made  in  the  Capital  Account,  and 
decreases  the  capital. 

Red  ink  should  not  be  used  at  all,  unless 
it  is  used  for  a  definite  purpose.  A  safe 
general  rule  is  to  use  black  ink  in  the 
Ledger  in  the  recording  of  all  entries  which 
come  from  other  books,  and  to  use  red  ink 
in  making  entries  which  are  made  for  the 
purpose  of  closing  and  bringing  down  the 
balances  to  the  new  accounts.  Custom  is 
not  uniform,  however,  regarding  this  rule. 
Very  many  of  those  who  use  red  ink  for 
closing,  prefer  to  use  black  ink  in  making 
the  transfers  of  the  closing  entries. 

In  closing  the  Ledger,  it  is  necessary  to 
remember  the  classification  of  Ledger  Ac 
counts,  separating  clearly  those  which  are 
speculative  and  show  losses  and  gains  from 
those  which  are  non-speculative  and  show 
resources  and  liabilities.  To  the  former 
class,  showing  losses  and  gains,  belong  Ex 
pense,  Discount  and  Interest,  Commission, 
Insurance,  Merchandise,  etc.,  etc.  To  the 


latter  class,  showing  resources  and  liabilities 
belong  accounts  with  Individuals,  Firms  and 
Corporations,  Cash,  Bills  Receivable,  Bills 
Payable,  etc. 

Unless  the  property  possessed  in  the  busi 
ness  has  all  been  sold,  it  is  a  necessary  step 
in  closing  the  Ledger  to  take  an  account  of 
Stock  and  to  credit  the  respective  accounts 
heretofore  charged  with  the  amount  of  prop 
erty  now  on  hand.  Nor  should  a  Ledger  be 
closed  until  a  first  trial  balance  has  been 
taken  off,  and  the  Ledger  tound  to  be  in 
balance,  and  also,  there  should  be  a  test  of 
the  correctness  of  the  Ledger  by  comparing 
the  Cash  and  Bills  Receivable  balances  with 
the  Cash  on  hand  and  the  Bills  Receivable 
on  hand,  and  the  sending  out  and  receiving 
of  Statements. 

First. — Close  all  Speculative  Accounts 
into  "Loss  and  Gain"  account  by  journal 
izing  and  posting. 

Second. — Close  "Loss  and  Gain"  account 
into  the  Capital  Account  by  journalizing  and 
posting. 

Third. — Close  "Inventory"  account  by 
crediting  it  and  debiting  the  corresponding 
accounts. 

Fourth. — Then  close  all  accounts  now  un 
closed,  "To"  or  "By  Balance,"  ruling  them 
up  and  bringing  down  the  balance  on  the 
opposite  side  of  each  account  so  closed. 

All  entries  "To"  or  "By  Balance"  to  be 
made  in  red  ink. 

Fifth. — After  the  Ledger  is  closed  take  ofl 
a  trial  balance  to  ascertain  if  the  Ledger  is 
still  in  balance. 

If  the  work  is  correctly  done,  the  two 
sides  of  the  trial  balance  will  be  equal,  foi 
the  reason  that  in  the  case  in  which  the 
business  is  possessed  of  more  assets  than 
liabilities,  there  will  be  found  upon  the  debit 
side  all  the  resources,  and  on  the  credit  side 
all  tb**  liabilities,  together  with  the  net 


BOOK-KEEPING. 


399 


capital,  which  is  the  excess  of  resources  over 
liabilities ;  and  the  net  capital  properly  ap 
pears  on  the  same  side  with  the  liabilities, 
because  the  business  owes  to  its  proprietor 
that  which  he  has  invested  in  it ;  and  if  all 
the  assets  were  collected,  dollar  for  dollar  of 
their  face  value,  as  they  appear  on  the  books, 
-md  the  liabilities  were  paid  out  of  them, 
the  net  capital  would  appear  as  a  surplus,  to 
be  paid  over  to  the  proprietor.  So,  in  ad 
versity,  the  debit  side  of  the  trial  balance 
will,  as  before,  consist  of  the  resources,  to 
gether  with  the  net  insolvency,  which,  taken 
together,  will  equal  the  credit,  or  liability 
side,  for  the  reason  that  the  proprietor  would 
have  to  furnish,  from  other  resources,  the 
amount  of  the  insolvency  of  the  business  to 
enable  the  liabilities  to  be  discharged,  and 
the  net  insolvency  is  properly  placed  with 
the  resources  for  this  reason. 

BANK  DEPOSITS. 

No  reference  has  been  made  in  this  book 
to  a  ledger  account  with  a  bank,  as  it  is  not 
customary,  and  is  objectionable.  Money  in 
bank  is  generally  regarded  as  money  on 
hand  in  another  safe,  an  account  of  which 
appears,  or  should  appear,  on  the  stub  of  the 
check  book.  When  money  is  deposited  the 
liability  of  the  bank  for  the  money  so  depo 
sited  is  acknowledged  by  the  receiving  teller 
by  an  entry  on  the  debit  side  of  a  pass  book, 
called  the  bank  book.  From  this  the  book 
keeper  should  copy  the  amount  and  add  it  to 
ihe  previous  balance  in  bank,  as  shown  by 
the  stub  in  his  check  book.  From  this  he 
should  deduct  the  amount  of  each  check 
drawn,  the  difference  showing  the  amount 
in  bank  subject  to  draft.  This  may  not  al 
ways  agree  with  the  balance  as  shown  by  the 
bank  book  when  settled  at  bank,  for  the 
reason  that  a  business  man  subtracts  from 
his  bank  balance  the  amount  of  the  check 
at  the  time  of  its  issue.  The  bank  does  not 


charge  the  account  of  a  customer  for  a  check 
drawn  until  it  is  presented  and  paid  at  bank. 
In  keeping  the  check  book  there  are  many 
advantages  arising  from  entering  on  the  stub. 

The  Philadelphia  Clearing  House  Associa 
tion  furnishes  to  the  business  community 
quite  a  number  of  useful  rules  to  be  observed 
by  those  doing  business  with  a  bank.  We 
quote  a  few  as  follows  : 

"If you  write  or  stamp  over  your  endorse 
ment  upon  all  checks  which  you  send  to  be 
deposited  to  your  credit  in  bank  the  words, 
'  For  deposit  to  our  credit,'  it  will  prevent 
their  being  used  for  any  other  purpose." 

Another  is  that  you  "Do  not  give  your 
checks  to  strangers."  Another  is  that  "It 
is  desired  that  all  your  checks  for  large 
amounts  should  be  presented  for  payment  by 
a  person  known  to  the  paying  teller  or  other 
officer  of  the  bank." 

Another  is :  "In  conformity  with  the  rules 
adopted  by  all  banks  of  this  city  and  mem 
bers  of  the  Clearing  House  Association,  you 
are  hereby  notified  that  you  are  held  respon 
sible  as  endorser  for  the  non-payment  of  all 
checks  upon  other  banks  of  this  city,  mem. 
bers  of  said  Association,  deposited  by  you  as 
cash  in  this  bank,  until  the  close  of  the 
business  day  next  succeeding  that  on  which 
such  checks  are  deposited.  This  bank  receiv 
ing  such  checks  only  for  collection  on  your 
account  through  the  exchanges  of  the  Clear 
ing  House.  Upon  all  other  checks  and  drafts 
deposited  by  you  as  cash  your  responsibility 
as  endorser  continues  until  payment  has  been 
ascertained  by  this  bank." 

PROTEST. 

Besides  these  suggestions  it  is  well  to  re 
member  that  not  only  with  checks  but  with 
promissory  notes  held  by  you  and  secured  to 
you  by  endorsement,  that  you  lose  the  secur 
ity  of  the  endorsement  if  you  fail  to  protest 
those  not  paid  at  maturity 


400  BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 

Bank  Check. 

No.  33.  Philadelphia,  June  i,  i8y  . 

first  National  Bank. 

Pay  to  the  order  of  Joshua  L.  Bailey  &>  Co 

Five  hundred  and  ten -gfa  Dollars. 

Wright  &  Schmid. 


Receipt. 

No.  311.  Philadelphia,  Jan.  3,  189  . 

Received  from  Wright  &>  Schmid. 

four  hundred  and  thirteen ^fo  Dollaft 

in  full  for  bill  of  this  date. 

John  Griffith. 


Receipt  when  settlement  is  made  by 

Jfo.  113.  Philadelphia,  June  27,  j8y  . 

Deceived  from  Bailey  &  Moulton,   Wm.  Beck's  note,  dated  May  14,  at  sixty 

days,  for 

Eight  hundred  and  sixty-four -fifa  Dollar^ 

in  settlement  of  Bailey  &  Moulton1  s  account. 

Janney  &*  Andrews. 


Promissory  Note  payable  at  Bank. 

Philadelphia.  fto.  6,  189  . 

Two  months  after  date  we  promise  to  pay 

to  the  order  of  Coffin,  Altemus  &°  Co , 

Five  thousand. '••?$!  Dollar* 

at  the  Seventh  National  Bank 

without  defalcation,  value  received. 

No.  357.     Due  Apr.  6/9.  Wright  <Sr>  Schmid. 


Demand  Note. 

Philadelphia,  Jan.  12, 189  . 

On  demand,  I  promise  to  pay 

to  the  order  of  John  B.  Ellison  6°  Sons 

Five  hundred  and  seventy -fifo  Dollars^ 

without  defalcation,  value  received. 

No.  37.  Valentine  Baker. 

323  So.  2d  St. 


Sight  Draft. 

faoofifa.  Philadelphia,  Feb.  8, 

At  sight  pay  to  the  order  of. 
Diddle  &  Co 
Five  hundred. 
value  received,  and  charge  to  the  account  of 

To  John  H.  Dick,  Wright  «Sr>  Schmid, 

941  Passyunk  Ave,  704  Market  St, 

No.  73. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Forms  for  Business  Letters. 


I 


IS  quite  as  easy  to  write  a  love  letter  as 
to  write  a  good  business  letter.  Beth  are 
difficult,  and  the  opportunity  to  consult 
approved  forms  will  be  appreciated  by  all  who 
engage  in  correspondence.  Many  business 
men  have  achieved  success  by  being  able  to 
write  a  letter  suited  to  the  case,  saying  just 
enough,  saying  it  right  to  the  point,  and 
stopping  when  there  was  tfo  ;rnt>Tervthat 

.7    ,         ,  ..jim ,ta  ip  im-=,or  attt  nJiwJnfi. 


.J.Lj.1^  .^UI   iy    illT-.UI  311J   UJIWJIJJi 

weeded  to  be  said.     A  man  is  known  by  his 


correspondence.  In  large  business  houses  it 
is  customary  to  employ  a  correspondent  who 
can  transact  this  most  delicate  part  of  the 
business  in  a  neat  and  satisfactory  manner. 
The  art  of  explanation,  persuasion  and  dis 
tinct  statement,  is  one  surely  to  be  coveted. 
The  following  forms  of  letters  are  valuable 
for  consultation,  affording  style,  methods  of 
statement  and  important  suggestions,  and 

VX. 

will  be  of  service  in  business  correspondence. 


.81J39-/  svft  JgBCT  srfj  tol  inoinfoS  .O  .A  .iM  1  -,  ,,  .    p,. 

No.  55  Main  St., 

-^niitmoo.  aid  cxtm  npa  airf  gjlirf  oi  siiaob  _ 

srs.  MATTHEWS  st  X.X>RNEU.  CHICAGO,  June  i2th,  189  . 


,.,.,  No,  36o.Levant  St.:        - 

JJOY  notnvf  vJnitjB.  TO  •joJoBiBn?T  19  iBinomiJaoi  vets  TOI  it 
*     GENTLEMEN.  —  Understanding  by    our  a 


,       ,.  .    .      ,,      _    .          ,A,         .,    . 

erstanding  by  your  advertisement  in  the  Tntuntof  the  nth  inst.,  thai 

SIEKINQ  A  you  require  the  services  of  A  junior  clerk,  I  beg  respectfully  to  offer  myself  as  a  candidate  for  the 

^  —  n  ftrl}  silt  airatloa  .ftwaiy  -mov  ai33ftf  noOf    ,,  L,   •  A.  •,  • 

JUNIOR  CLERK-     appointment.    I  am  nineteen,  years  pi  age.  and,  from  my  attainments  in  various  branches  of 
CHIP  i_    -s        T  »_  ,..j)9imp9i.a3riuJrariJ',vJlByJSnuq..  .     , 

education,  I  believe  mvseli  qualified  for  the  duties  required. 

30  oj  ic 
I  may  mention  that  I  am  not  altogether  unacquainted  with  book-keeping  and  accounts,  hav 

ing  for  some  months  past  assisted  my  father,  Mr.  James  Brixey,  lumber  merchant,  in  the  count' 
ing-house  department  of  his  business. 

Should  you  entertain  my  application,  I  beg  to  refer  you  to  Messrs.  Cram  &  Snyder,  coal 
dealers,  and  Mr,  Robert  Dunlevy,  hardware  merchant,  Wyoming  St.,  who  will  have  -leasure  in. 
testifying  as  to  my  character  and  abilities. 

I  am,  gentlemen,  your  most  obedient  servant, 

WIUJAM  M.  BRIXEY. 

No.  360  Levant  St., 

MR.  WIUJAM  M.  BRIXEY;  CHICAGO,  June  i3th,  189  . 

.        pi  v  TO         ^IR>  —  Caving  made  inquiry  of  Mr.  Dunlevy,  one  of  tne  references  named  in  your  letter  of 
APPLICATION         ^e  I2th  inst.,  we  are  satisfied  with  his  recommendation.     Before  making  an  engagement, 
however,  we  should  desire  a  personal  interview,  and  should  therefore  be  glad  if  you  could  make 
it  convenient  to  call  at  our  counting-house  on  Saturday  forenoon,  at  11  o'clock. 

Yours,  MATTHEWS  &  CORNELL. 

No.  55  Main  St., 

Messrs.  MATTHEWS  &  CORNEI*!*  :  CHICAGO,  June  I4th,  189  . 

VOUTH's  REPLY  GENTLEMEN.  —  I  am  in  receipt  of  your  esteemed  letter  of  yesterday,  and  feel  much  obliged 

To  THE  by  your  kind  attention.     I  shall  not  fail  to  wait  upon  you  on  Saturday,  punctually  at  the  hour 

mentioned,  and  should  my  application  be  ultimately  successful,  no  effort  shall  be  wanting  on 
my  part  to  merit  your  confidence  and  approval. 
I  am,  gentlemen, 

Your  obedient  servant,  WILLIAM  M.  BRIXEY. 

36  401 


402 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


REQUESTING  A 
LETTER  OF 
INTRODUCTION 


ROCHESTER,  N.  Y.,  Jan.  isth,  189  . 
MR.  CALVIN  SHARPS  : 

DEAR  SIR.  —  Some  time  ago  you  were  kind  enoug     .o  express  yourself  desirous  of  serving 
me  in  the  way  of  introduction. 

Would  it  be  asking  too  great  a  favor  if  I  were  to  solicit  from  you  a  letter  to  two  or  three  of 
the  most  respectable  builders  in  New  York,  whom  I  should  like  to  wait  upon? 

I  should  esteem  it  a  very  great  favor  if  you  would  oblige  me,  as  I  am  convinced  the  position 
you  hold  among  them  would  considerably  enhance  my  chance  of  obtaining  orders. 
Apologizing  for  troubling  you,  I  remain, 

Yours  very  respectfully, 

GEORGE  ENGEL, 


West  23rd  St., 

NEW  YORK,  March  soth,  189  . 
Messsrs.  E.  S.  CLARK  &  Co., 

No.  —  Broadway : 
GENTLEMEN. — In  reply  to  your  advertisement  in  to-day's  Herald  for  a  clerk  competent  to 

APPLICATION  FOR  .    .         .  c  r          i  j  -^  ^      r  f 

THE  POSITION  OF  charge  of  a  set  of  oooks,  and  conversant  with  the  fo«rms  of  mercantile  correspondence,  I  beg 

BOOK-KEEPER       to  offer  my  services  to  your  Firm. 

I  h.ive  been  in  the  employ  of  Mr.  A.  G.  Belmont  for  the  past  five  years,  but  about  three 
months  ago  he  informed  me  of  his  desire  to  take  his  son  into  his  counting-house,  and  dispense 
with  the  services  of  one  clerk. 

He  permits  me  to  refer  to  him  for  any  testimonial  of  character  or  ability  which  you  may 
require. 

Should  you  find  my  application  meets  your  views,  believe  me  that  it  will  be  my  core^aot 
endeavor  to  fulfill  faithfully  and  punctually  the  duties  required. 
I  have,  gentlemen,  the  honor  to  be, 

Yours  very  respectfully, 

WALTER  LOCKWOOD. 


TESTIMONIAL 
ACCOMPANYING 
THE  ABOVE 
APPLICATION 


NEW  YORK,  January  ist,  189  . 

Mr.  Walter  Lockwood  being  about  to  leave  my  employ,  it  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  testify 
to  his  ability  as  a  book-keeper.  He  has  been  in  my  counting-house  for  three  years,  during  which 
time  he  has  always  maintained  the  character  of  a  conscientious,  upright  and  faithful  clerk.  He 
is  a  fine  penman,  correct  accountant,  good  correspondent,  and  of  steady  moral  habits. 

It  will  afford  me  pleasure  at  any  time  to  reply  to  any  application  with  regard  to  Mr.  Lock- 
wood,  and  he  leaves  me  with  my  best  wishes  for  his  future  success. 

A.  G.  BELMONT. 


MERCHANT  TO 
STORE  KEEPER 

GIVING  PRICES 
AND  TERMS 


NEW  YORK,  Nov.  i6th,  189  . 
MR.  HUGH  BLAIR,  Homer,  N.  Y. : 

DEAR  SIR. — In  reply  to  your  favor  of  I4th  inst. ,  we  enclose  herewith  a  complete  list  of  oui 
Goods,  with  net  prices. 

They  are  all  of  our  own  manufacture  and  each  article  undergoes  careful  inspection  before 
packing,  and  conforms  strictly  with  the  quality  represented. 

Your  references  are  entirely  satisfactory,  and  we  therefore  offer  you  our  best  terms,  viz  :— 
Sixty  days'  credit,  dating  from  day  of  shipment,  or  a  rebate  of  five  per  cent,  for  cash  in  15  daya. 
Hoping  to  receive  your  orders  in  due  course,  we  are, 

Yours  respectfully, 

RAYMOND  &  CO, 


FORMS  FOR  BUSINESS  LETTERS. 


403 


ORDERING  GOODS 


HOMER,  N.  Y.,  Nov.  i8th,  189  . 
Messrs.  RAYMOND  &  Co.,  New  York: 

STOREKEEPER  DEAR  SIRS. — Your  favor  of  i6th  inst.  is  to  hand,  with  prices  and  terms,  which  I  find 

ro  MERCHANT,  entirely  satisfactory.  I  enclose  herewith  an  order  for  such  goods  as  I  require  to  meet  my 
present  needs,  and  will  order  from  time  to  time  as  occasion  demands.  I  prefer  this  plan,  as  it 
enables  me  to  ascertain  what  goods  are  most  called  for,  and  also  to  settle  my  bills  promptly  M 
they  fall  due. 

As  I  find  already  a  demand  for  the  goods  I  now  order,  I  hope  you  will  forward  them  p«t 
Union  Express  without  delay,  and  greatly  oblige 

Yours  respectfully,  HUGH  BLAIR. 


MERCHANT  TO 
STOREKEEPER, 
ENCLOSING  BILU 
OF  GOODS 
SHIPPED 


NEW  YORK,  Nov.  aoth,  189  . 
HUGH  BI.AIR,  Homer,  N.  Y. : 

DEAR  SIR. — Your  order  of  i8th  inst.  is  received.     In  accordance  with  your  directions,  w< 
forward  the  goods  this  day  per  Union  Express,  and  hand  you  herewith  bill  for  the  sain* 
hoping  that  they  will  reach  you  in  due  course  and  prove  to  your  entire  satisfaction. 
Awaiting  an  early  renewal  of  your  favors,  we  are, 

Yours  respectfully,  RAYMOND  &.  CO. 


HOMER,  N.  Y.,  Nov.  25th,  189  . 
Messrs.  RAYMOND  &  Co. ,  New  York : 

DEAR  SIRS. — The  goods  shipped  by  you  Nov.  2oth  have  not  yet  arrived.    Would  you  kindly 
THAT  GOODS         ascertain  from  the  Union  Express  Co.  the  cause  of  the  delay.     In  due  course  they  should  have 
HAVE  NOT  BEEN   been  delivered  here  on  the  22d,  and  I  am  anxiously  awaiting  their  arrival.    I  am, 
RECEIVED  Yours  respectfully, 

HUGH  BLAIR. 


MERCHANT  TO 
EXPRESS  CO. 
ASKING  CAUSE 
OF  DELAY 


219  Broadway, 

NEW  YORK,  Nov.  26th,  189  . 
UNION  EXPRESS  COMPANY,  New  York : 

GENTLEMEN. — We  forwarded  Nov.  aoth,  a  case  of  goods  by  your  Express  to  Hugh  Blair, 
Homer,  N.  Y.  We  have  received  a  letter  from  him  to-day  dated  Nov.  25th,  advising  us  that  hit 
goods  had  not  reached  him. 

Will  you  please  inform  us  at  once  the  reason  of  the  delay,  and  oblige, 

Yours  respectfully,  RAYMOND  &  CO. 


EXPRESS  CO. 
TO  MERCHANT 
ASKING  FOR 
RECEIPT  FOR 
GOODS  SHIPPED 


Office  of  Union  Express  Company,    • 

NEW  YORK,  Nov.  26th,  189  . 
Messrs.  RAYMOND  &  Co.,  219  Broadway,  New  York : 

DEAR  SIRS. — Your  letter  of  this  morning  is  to  hand.  Please  sen  I  us  our  Receipt  for  th« 
package  referred  to ;  we  will  then  send  on  a  tracer  after  it,  and  report  to  you  as  soon  as  we  learn 
particulars. 

Yours  respectfully,  UNION  EXPRESS  CO,, 

per  McCook.         ; 


MERCHANT  TO 
EXPRESS  CO. 
ENCLOSING 
RECEIPT 


219  Broadway, 

NEW  YORK,  Nov.  26th,  289  » 
UNION  EXPRESS  COMPANY,  New  York : 

GENTLEMEN. — We  hand  you  by  bearer  your  receipt  of  case  shipped  Nov.  aoth,  to  Hugh 
Blair,  Homer,  N.  Y.,  delayed  on  the  road.  Please  oblige  ns  by  reporting  at  earliest  moment,  so 
that  we  can  reply  to  consignee's  inquiries. 

Yours  respectfully, 

RAYMOND  &  CO. 


404 


EXPRESS  CO. 
REPORT  CAUSE 
Of  DELAY 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 

Office  of  Union  Express  Company, 

NEW  YORK,  Nov.  28th,  189  . 
Messrs.  RAYMOND  &  Co.,  219  Broadway,  New  York: 

DEAR  SIRS. — We  have  just  received  a  report  from  our  agent  at  Binghamton,  that  the  entire 
region  is  blockaded  by  snow,  and  every  effort  is  being  made  to  forward  freight  to  destination. 
The  work  of  clearing  the  tracks  is  slow,  owing  to  drifts  twenty  feet  deep  in  some  places  on  the 
line.  We  hope  that  your  package  will  reach  its  destination  by  Dec.  ist.  We  are, 

Yours  respectfully, 

UNION  EXPRESS  CO., 
per  McCook. 


MCRCHANT  TO 
STOREKEEPER, 
GIVING  REASON 
OF  DELAY 


NEW  YORK,  Nov.  28th,  189  . 
Mr.  HUGH  BLAIR,  Homer,  N.  Y. : 

DEAR  SIR. — The  Union  Express  Co.  report  to  us  to-day  that  your  goods  have  been  delayed 

on  the  road  by  a  heavy  snow-storm,  which  has  completely  blocked  up  the  railroad  track  t,  also 

that  strenuous  efforts  are  being  made  to  clear  the  roads,  and  they  expect  to  have  the  way  open 

to  Homer  by  Dec.  ist.    We  are  sorry  for  the  detention,  but  it  appears  to  have  been  unavo  dable. 

We  are, 

Yours  respectfully, 

RAYMOND  &  CO. 


HOMER,  N.  Y.,  Dec.  5th,  189  . 
Messrs.  RAYMOND  &  Co.,  New  York: 

arrcmEKEEPER  TO         DEAR  SIRS. — I  have  just  received  notice  of  the  arrival  of  the  goods  I  ordered  Nov.  i8th. 
lNiNGATo'  RE-    Their  failure  to  arrive  in  proper  time  has  entirely  deprived  me  of  the  opportunity  of  selling 
them,  as  my  customers  have  all  been  supplied  with  these  goods  by  a  rival  concern  here,  so  that 
I  have  not  only  lost  the  sale  of  the  goods,  but  probabty  some  of  my  customers  as  well. 

I  have  no  possible  use  for  the  goods  this  season ,  and  certainly  do  not  propose  to  hold  diem 
Over  until  next  winter.     I  have  therefore  been  compelled  to  decline  receiving  them.     I  am, 

Very  respectfully, 

HUGH  BLAIR 


CEIVE  GOODS; 
SALES  LOST  BY 
DELAY 


MERCHANT'S 
flEPLY  TO 

STOREKEEPER'S 
.REFUSAL  TO 
RECEIVE  GOODS 


NEW  YORK,  Dec.  7th,  189  . 
Mr.  HUGH  BI^AIR,  Homer,  N.  Y. : 

DEAR  SIR. — Your  letter  of  5th  insl.  is  to  hand,  also  a  notice  from  the  Union  Express  Co. 
••  nth  report  from  their  Agent  at  Homer,  that  you  refuse  to  receive  the  goods,  and  that  he  holds 
them  subject  to  our  further  orders.  We  are  indeed  surprised  to  find  that  you  have  adopted  such 
a  course,  as  it  is  entirely  unjustifiable.  We  executed  your  orders  to  the  letter,  and  our  respon 
sibility  ends  there. 

The  delay  on  the  road  was  in  no  way  caused  by  any  neglect  or  carelessness  on  our  part,  and 
your  r  medy,  if  any,  lays  between  yourself  and  the  Express  Co.  We  consider  you  in  honor 
bound  to  take  the  goods  and  seek  redress  for  a  contingency,  which  no  human  ingenuity  could 
avoid,  from  those  on  whom  you  may  be  able  to  make  good  your  claim. 

We  should  think  that  in  your  section  of  the  country,  ordinary  foresight  and  prudence  would 
prompt  you  to  lay  in  a  stock  of  these  goods  earlier  in  the  season,  as  you  surely  must  be  aware  of 
the  risk  of  delay  on  the  road  in  mid-winter.  Your  competitors  have  evidently  exercised  better 
judgment. 

We  hope  you  will  reconsider  the  matter,  and  do  what  is  only  just  and  right.  We  assure  you 
that,  if  you  propose  to  transact  business  in  any  other  way,  you  will  be  unable  to  get  your  orders 
filled  even  for  cash  on  delivery,  with  the  risk  of  having  goods  returned  on  sellers'  hands  with 
double  freight  charges. 

Awaiting  an  immediate  reply,  we  are, 

Yours  respectfully, 

RAYMOND  &  CO, 


FORMS  FOR  BUSINESS  LETTERS. 


405 


MERCHANT 
AGREEING  TO 
ACCEPT  GOODS 
DELAYED 


HOMER,  N.  Y.,  Dec.  gth,  189  , 
Messrs.  RAYMOND  &  Co. ,  New  York : 

STOREKEEPEK  TO  DEAR  SIRS. — Your  favor  of  7th  inst.  is  to  hand,  and  contents  carefully  noted.  I  musft 
confess  that  when  I  wrote  to  you  on  the  5th  inst.  I  was  justly  annoyed  at  the  detention  of  the 
goods ;  and,  smarting  under  disappointment,  I  was  certainly  too  hasty  in  my  conclusions.  I  hope 
you  will  make  due  allowance  for  the  circumstances  under  which  I  was  placed  at  the  time,  and1 
the  vexation  which  I  necessarily  felt  at  seeing  seasonable  trade  slipping  away  from  my  grasp. 

I  appreciate  fully  the  force  of  your  remarks  in  relation  to  getting  goods  well  in  advance  of 
the  demands  of  the  season,  and  shall  act  on  them  in  future. 

Since  writing  to  you,  I  have  thought  the  matter  over  a  little  more  calmly,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  that  I  shall  still  be  able  to  dispose  of  a  considerable  portion  of  the  goods  ordered  from  you. 
Even  were  this  not  the  case,  I  should  certainly  shrink  from  allowing  my  reputation  for  straight 
forward  dealing  to  suffer  under  any  circumstances  where  I  could  avoid  it.  Yesterday,  therefore, 
I  took  the  goods  from  the  Express  Co.  and  had  thus  settled  the  matter  before  your  letter  of  jib 
inst.  came  to  hand. 

Hoping  you  will  let  this  matter  pass  without  prejudice  to  any  future  transactions  between  us* 
I  am,  Yours  respectfully, 

HUGH  BLAIR. 


INQUIRY 

RESPECTING  THE 
RESPONSIBILITY 
OF  A  PERSON 


PHILADELPHIA,  Jan.  4th,  189  , 
Mr.  THEODORE  SAMSON,  Minneapolis: 

DEAR  SIR. — A  dealer  in  your  city,  whose  name  and  address  is  written  on  the  inclosed  pape  . 
has  just  sent  me  an  order  for  $500  worth  of  goods  which  he  desires  to  purchase  on  three  months* 
I  have  never  had  any  dealings  with  him,  and  am  therefore  anxious  to  ascertain  some  facts  rela 
tive  to  his  character  and  responsibility.  Can  you  furnish  me  any  information  on  these  points, 
and  do  you  consider  him  worthy  of  credit  ?  I  regret  having  to  give  you  any  trouble,  and  I  assure 
you  that  I  shall  always  be  most  happy  to  reciprocate  should  you  ever  have  to  apply  to  me  for 
similar  information.  Very  truly  yours, 

G.  P.  RUSHTON. 


MINNEAPOLIS,  Jan.  yth,  189  . 
Mr.  G.  P.  RUSHTON,  Philadelphia: 

FAVORABLE  DEAR  SIR. — In  reply  to  yours  of  the  4th  inst.,  I  am  happy  to  be  able  to  inform  you  that  th* 

REPLY  TO  THE     person,  about  whom  you  make  inquiry,  merits  your  entire  confidence. 

PRECEDING  of  his  means  I  am  not  precisely  informed.    I  believe  them,  however,  to  be  adequate  to  the 

requirements  of  his  trade ;  but  of  his  character  and  habits  I  can  confidently  speak  in  the  highest 
terms ;  he  is  prompt  and  punctual  in  all  his  transactions,  and  I  believe  no  person  ever  had  occa 
sion  to  apply  to  him  for  his  account  twice. 

Personally,  I  should  have  no  hesitation  in  selling  him  the  amount  you  name  upon  the 
terms  specified. 

I  am  happy  to  be  able  to  send  you  these  assurances,  and  trusting  that  your  business  relations* 
with  him  may  prove  mutually  profitable  and  advantageous,  I  am, 

Yours  very  truly, 

THEODORE  SAMSON. 


ON  FAVORABLE 
REPLY  TO  THE 


MINNEAPOLIS,  Jan.  7th.  189  . 
Mr.  G.  P.  RUSHTON: 

DEAR  SIR.  —  I  regret  to  say  that  I  consider  the  person  whose  name  you  mention  totally 
unworthy  pf  being  trusted.     He  has  no  capital,  and,  what  is  worse,  is  wholly  devoid  of  prin- 
ciple.    He  is  well  known  to  have  been  in  difficulties  for  some  time  past,  and  contrives  tem 
porarily  to  bolster  up  his  affairs  by  obtaining  new  credits,  and  systematically  underselling  his* 
goods.    Sooner  or  later  his  failure  is  certain,  and  his  creditors  will,  I  am  convinced,  get  nexfc 

to  nothing. 

Very  truly  yours, 

THEODORE  SAMSON. 


406 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


OF  AN  ACCOUNT 


CINCINNATI,  April  ist,  189  . 
Mr.  L.  P.  MUNN,  Richmond : 

REQUESTING  THE         DEAR  SIR.— I  trust  you  will  pardon  the  liberty  I  take  in  writing  to  ask.  if  you  will  obligt 
EARLY  PAYMENT  me  -^th  the  amount  of  your  account  within  the  present  week,  and  in  consideration  of  your 
paying  the  same  before  it  is  due,  I  am  willing  to  deduct  an  extra  discount  of  five  per  cent. 

I  assure  you  that  I  should  not  have  troubled  you  in  this  matter  had  I  not  been  disappointed 
in  the  receipt  of  cash  from  quarters  where  I  confidently  expected  it ;  and  I  thought  it  possible 
that  the  deduction  of  extra  discount,  together  with  your  general  wish  to  serve  me,  would  induce 
you  to  oblige  me  in  this  particular. 

Very  truly  yours, 

OSCAR  FAULKNER. 


RICHMOND,  April  2d,  189  . 
Mr.  OSCAR  FAULKNER,  Cincinnati : 

REPLY  TO  THE  DEAR  SIR. — In  compliance  with  your  request,  I  enclose  my  check  on  the  First  National 

FOREOOING  Bank  of  your  city  for  $475,  that  being  the  amount  of  your  account  against  me  less  five  per  cent. 

Please  acknowledge  receipt  of  the  same. 

Yours  very  truly, 

L.  P.  MUNN. 


•ETAIL  DEALER 
TO  CUSTOMER 
REQUESTING 
PAYMENT  OF 
AMOUNT 


NEW  YORK,  Jan.  aoth,  189  . 
Mr.  BLUNT  SCR0BB : 

SIR. — I  beg  respectfully  to  remind  you  that  your  account  has  been  standing  for  several 
months  unsettled. 

I  should  not  even  now  have  troubled  you  were  it  not  that  in  a  few  days  I  shall  have  to  meet 
a  heavy  bill,  and  I  have  at  present  no  means  of  providing  for  it. 

I  should,  therefore,  esteem  it  a  great  favor  if  you  would  kindly  let  me  have  either  the  whole 
or  a  portion  of  your  account  in  the  course  of  two  or  three  days. 
Thanking  you  for  past  favors,  I  remain, 

Very  respectfully  yours, 

TIGHTMAN  STERN. 


BOSTON,  July  isth,  189  . 
Mr.  F.  C.  GILBERT,  Springfield : 

IMOEMT  BCMANO         SIR. — Feeling  much  disappointed  by  your  failure  to  settle  my  account  according  to  promise, 

IOR  PAYMENT       I  am  compelled  to  say  that  the  profits  on  my  business  will  not  admit  of  longer  credit.     At  the 

same  time,  I  should  be  sorry  to  inconvenience  you,  and  will  therefore  fix  the  ayth  inst.  for 

payment,  after  which  it  will  be  quite  impossible  for  me  to  wait,  however  unpleasant  the 

alternative.    I  am,  sir, 

Yours  obediently, 

A.  B.  JORDAN. 


jETTLfNQ  OF  AN 
OVER DU6  DEfiT 


SPRINGFIELD,  July  ioth,  189  , 
Mr.  A.  B.  JORDAN,  Boston : 

DEAR  SIR. — I  am  happy  to  be  able  to  enclose  you  a  check  on  Messrs.  Rice  &  Co.,  of  yoor 
city,  for  the  sum  for  which  I  have  already  been  too  long  your  debtor.  Assuring  you  that 
unforeseen  disappointments  have  been  the  sole  cause  of  any  want  of  punctuality,  I  remain 

dear  sir. 

Yours  very  truly, 

F.  C.  GILBERT. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


Agreements,  or  Contracts. 


are  persons  who  transact  the 
most  important  business  by  verbal 
contract.  Although  this  is  a  prevail 
ing1  custom  in  country  places,  it  is  a  very 
poor  way  to  do  business.  It  is  but  fair  to 
both  parties  that  the  contract  should  be 
in  "black  and  white"  ;  then  there  can  be  no 
mistakes  of  memory,  and  no  possibility  of 
evading  the  terms  of  the  instrument 

An  agreement  or  contract  is  an  arrange 
ment  entered  into  by  two  or  more  persons, 
by  which  each  binds  himself  to  perform 
certain  specified  acts  within  a  designated 
time. 

Agreements  may  be  verbal,  but  it  is  better 
in  all  cases,  and  absolutely  essential  in  mat 
ters  of  importance,  to  express  them  in 


Great  care  should  be  taken,  in  drawing  an 
agreement,  to  state  explicitly  and  in  the 
plainest  language  the  various  acts  to  be  per 
formed,  and  the  time  of  such  performance. 
Nothing  should  be  left  to  doubt  or  uncer 
tainty. 

The  law  requires  that  all  the  parties  to  an 
agreement  shall  understand  its  provisions  in 
the  same  sense,  and  does  not  recognize  the 
existence  of  a  contract  in  which  this  is  not 
the  case.  Thus,  a  person  sent  an  order  to  a 
merchant  for  a  particular  quantity  of  goods 
on  certain  terms  of  credit  The'  merchant 
sent  a  less  quantity  of  goods,  and  at  a  shorter 
credit  The  goods  were  lost  on  the  way, 
and  the  merchant  sued  the  party  who  ordered 
them  for  their  value.  He  failed  to  win  his 
caee,  as  the  court  held  that  in  consequence  of 


the  failure  of  the  merchant  to  send  the  quan« 
tity  of  goods  ordered  and  to  grant  the  credit 
asked,  there  was  no  common  understand- 
ing  between  the  parties,  and  consequently 
no  contract 

A  contract  must  show  that  it  is  made  foi 
a  valuable  consideration.  A  failure  to  do  this 
renders  it  void  in  law. 

Fraud  annuls  all  contracts  and  obligations, 
and  the  party  so  wronged  is  relieved  of  his 
obligation  by  law.  If  both  the  parties  to  an 
agreement  act  fraudulently,  neither  can  take 
advantage  of  the  fraud  of  the  other;  nor  can 
one  who  acts  fraudulently  set  his  own  fraud 
aside  for  his  benefit. 

Agreements  written  in  pencil  are  binding 
in  law,  but  it  is  best  to  write  them  with  ink, 
as  pencil-marks  are  easily  erased. 

Agreements  should  be  prepared  and  signed 
in  duplicate,  triplicate,  etc.,  according  to  the 
nun:  ber  of  persons  concerned  in  them.  Each 
party  should  have  a  copy,  and  should  care 
fully  preserve  it. 

Generally  speaking,  all  written  instru 
ments  are  construed  and  interpreted  by  the 
law  according  to  the  simple,  customary,  and 
natural  meaning  of  the  words  used. 

When  a  contract  is  so  obscure  or  uncertain 
that  it  must  be  set  wholly  aside  and  regarded 
as  no  contract  whatever,  it  can  have  no  force 
or  effect  upon  the  rights  or  obligations  of 
the  parties,  but  all  of  these  are  the  same  as 
if  they  had  not  made  the  contract 

No  custom,  however  universal,  or  old,  ot 
known  (unless  it  has  actually  becoms  a  law) 
has  any  force  whatever,  if  the  parties  see  fk 

407 


408 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


to  exclude  and  refuse  it  by  words  of  their 
contract,  or  provide  that  the  thing  which 
the  custom  affects  shall  be  done  in  a  way 
different  from  the  custom.  For  a  custom 
can  never  be  set  up  against  either  the 
express  agreement  or  the  clear  intention  of 
the  parties. 

Punctuation  is  not  regarded  in  the  con 
struction  or  interpretation  of  a  written 
instrument,  or  in  written  law. 

Spelling,  though  bad,  will  not  avoid  a 
contract  where  the  intention  of  the  parties 
is  clear. 


All  contracts  made  in  violation  of  a  valifl 
statute  are  absolutely  void  and  of  no  effect 

Where  a  proposition  is  made  by  letter, 
the  mailing  of  a  letter  containing  accept 
ance  of  the  proposition  completes  the  con 
tract. 

It  is  the  presumption  of  the  law  that  a 
person  in  making  a  contract  intends  to 
bind  not  only  himself  but  his  legal  repre 
sentatives.  Such  representatives  may  there 
fore  sue  on  a  contract,  although  not  named 
in  it,  and  may  have  rights  and  priviledges 
the  same  as  the  original  contractors. 


DATE  OF 

AGREEMENT 


TERMS  OF 
AGREEMENT 


General  Form  of  Agreement. 

THIS  AGREEMENT,  made  this  twenty-fifth  day  of  September,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  one 
thousand  eight  hundred  and.  ninety-one,  between  Joe  Davis,  of  Livonia,  County  of  Livingston, 
State  of  New  York,  party  of  the  first  part,  and  John  Lock,  of  the  same  place,  party  of  the  second 
part, 

WiTNESSETH,  That  the  said  Joe  Davis,  party  of  the  first  part,  hereby  covenants  and  agrees, 
that  he  will  deliver  to  the  said  John  Lock,  party  of  the  second  part,  during  the  month  of 
September,  one  hundred  cords  of  hickory  wood,  at  the  woodyard  of  the  said  John  Lock,  as 
follows :  twenty  cords  to  be  delivered  on  or  before  the  loth  of  October ;  twenty  cords  more  to  be 
delivered  on  or  before  the  I5th  of  October ;  twenty  cords  more  on  or  before  the  aoth  of  October ; 
twenty  cords  more  on  or  before  the  25th  of  October,  and  the  remaining  twenty  cords  on  or 
before  the  3oth  of  October ;  the  entire  quantity  of  one  hundred  cords  to  be  delivered  by  the  3Oth 
of  October. 

And  the  said  John  Lock,  party  of  the  second  part,  in  consideration  of  the  prompt  fulfilment 
of  this  agreement  by  the  said  Joe  Davis,  party  of  the  first  part,  agrees  and  hinds  himself  to  pay 
to  the  said  Joe  Davis,  the  sum  of  three  dollars  for  each  and  every  cord  of  hickory  wood  delivered 
to  him  by  the  said  Joe  Davis  or  his  agents,  and  to  pay  for  each  cord  of  wood  as  soon  as  it  is 
delivered  at  his  woodyard. 

In  case  of  the  failure  of  either  party  to  this  contract  to  make  good  his  promises,  it  is  hereby 
stipulated  and  agreed  that  the  party  so  failing  shall  forfeit  to  the  other  party  the  sum  of  one 
hundred  dollars  in  cash  as  fixed  and  settled  damages. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  The  parties  to  these  presents  have  hereunto  set  their  hands  and 
seals,  the  day  and  year  first  above  written. 

JOE  DAVIS.     [SKAI..] 
Signed,  sealed  and  delivered  in  presence  of  JOHN  LOCK.     [SE  u^l 

W.  H.  JACKSON, 
H.  C.  KINGSBURY. 


DATE  OF 
CONTRACT 


rtRMS  OF 
CONTRACT 


Trade  Contract  between  Merchants. 

THIS  AGREEMENT,  made  this  second  day  of  March,  A.  r>.  189  ,  by  and  between  Peter  Peck, 
party  of  the  first  part,  and  Amos  Twist,  party  of  the  second  part,  both  of  the  city  of  Buffalo. 
State  of  New  York, 

WiTNESSETH,  That  the  said  Peter  Peck  shall  sell  and  deliver  to  the  said  Amos  Twist,  at  hi*, 
store,  in  the  city  of  Buffalo,  on  the  twentieth  day  of  the  present  month  of  March,  one  hundred 
barrels  of  fine  salt,  in  good,  substantial  barrels,  suitable  for  packing  beef  and  pork,  and  for  thte 
use  of  the  kitchen  and  dairy. 


AGREEMENTS,  OR  CONTRACTS. 


409 


In  consideration  whereof,  the  said  Amos  Twist  shall  convey  and  deliver  to  the  saii  Peter 
Peck,  at  the  storehouse  of  R.  M.  Cuyler,  in  the  city  of  Buffalo,  one  thousand  pounds  of  good 
merchantable  cheese,  and  four  hundred  pounds  of  sweet  table  butter ;  both  well  packed  in  tiercel 
or  firkins,  and  made  in  dairies  where  at  least  fifteen  cows  are  kept. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  The  parties  to  these  presents  have  hereunto  set  their  hand*  and 
seals  the  day  and  year  first  above  written. 

Executed  in  presence  of  PETER  PECK.     [SEAI,.] 

R.  M.  CUYLER,  \  AMOS  TWIST.     [SEAI,.} 

HENRY  GOVE.   j 


DATE  OF 
AGREEMENT 


TERMS  OF 
AGREEMENT 


Agreement  to  Cultivate  Land  on  Shares. 

THIS  AGREEMENT,  made  this  tenth  day  of  August,  189  ,  by  and  between  John  Holman, 
party  of  the  first  part,  and  Andrew  Jackson,  party  of  the  second  part,  both  of  the  town  of  Media, 
county  of  Chester,  State  of  Pennsylvania, 

WiTNESSETH,  That  said  John  Holman  will,  on  or  before  the  tenth  day  of  September,  break, 
properly  fix,  and  sow  with  wheat,  all  that  twenty  acres  of  field  belonging  to  and  lying  imme 
diately  north  of  the  dwelling-house  and  garden  of  said  Andrew  Jackson,  in  the  town  of  Media. 

That  one-half  of  the  seed  wheat  shall  be  found  by  said  Andrew  Jackson. 

That  when  said  crop  shall  be  in  fit  condition,  he  will  cut,  harvest,  and  safely  house  it  in  the 
barn  of  said  Andrew  Jackson. 

That  he  will  properly  thresh  and  clean  the  same. 

That  the  straw  shall  be  equally  divided  between  the  parties. 

That  he  will  deliver  one-half  of  said  wheat,  being  the  produce  thereof,  to  said  Andrew 
Jackson,  at  the  granary  near  his  dwelling-house,  on  or  before  the  isth  day  of  July,  189  . 

That  said  John  Holman  shall  perform  all  the  work  and  labor  necessary  in  the  premises,  or 
cause  the  same  to  be  done. 

Witness  our  hands  and  seals, 

Signed,  sealed  and  delivered  in  presence  of  JOHN  HODMAN.  [SEAI,.] 

RICHARD  WHITE,  1  ANDREW  JACKSON.     [SEAI,.] 

PETER  BELI,.        / 


DATE  OF 
CONTRACT 


WORK  TO  BE 
DONE 


PAYMENTS 


WtFtREES 


General  Form  of  Contract  for  Mechanics'  Work. 

CONTRACT  made  this  first  day  of  January,  A.  D.  189  ,  by  and  between  D.  I/,  Burke,  of  the 
City  of  Philadelphia,  State  of  Pennsylvania,  party  of  the  first  part,  and  Hiram  Cannon,  oi  the 
City  and  State  aforesaid,  party  of  the  second  part, 

WiTNESSETH,  That  the  party  of  the  first  part,  for  the  consideration  hereinafter  mentioned, 
covenants  and  agrees  with  the  party  of  the  second  part  to  perform  in  a  faithful  and  workmanlike 
manner  the  following  specified  work,  viz. :  To  build  one  brick  stable,  according  to  the  plans  and 
specifications  attached  to  this  agreement,  without  varying  in  any  way  whatsoever  from  said  plan 
and  specifications.  And  in  addition  to  the  above  to  become  responsible  for  all  materials  deliv 
ered  and  receipted  for,  the  work  to  be  commenced  on  or  before  April  ist,  189  ,  and  to  be  com 
pleted  and  delivered  free  from  all  mechanic  or  other  liens  on  or  before  the  first  day  of  July,  189  . 
And  the  party  of  the  second  part  covenants  and  agrees  with  the  party  of  the  first  part,  in  con 
sideration  of  the  faithful  performance  of  the  above  specified  work,  to  pay  to  the  party  of  the  first 
part  the  sum  of  two  thousand  dollars,  as  follows :  five  hundred  dollars  upon  the  completion  of 
the  foundation  walls  ;  five  hundred  dollars  upon  the  covering  of  said  stable  with  the  roof;  and 
one  thousand  dollars  upon  the  first  day  of  July,  189  ,  provided  said  stable  be  delivered  as  agreed 
upon  above,  on  or  before  that  day.  i 

And  it  is  further  mutually  agreed  by  and  between  both  parties,  that  in  case  of  disagreement 
in  reference  to  the  performance  of  said  work,  all  questions  of  disagreement  shall  be  referred  to 
Thomas  Lee  and  John  Yarnall ,  master  builders,  of  the  City  of  Philadelphia,  and  the  award  of  said 
referees,  or  a  majority  of  them,  shall  be  binding  and  final  on  all  parties. 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  We  hereunto  set  our  hands  and  seals  the  day  and  year  first  above 
written. 

D.  Iy.  BURKE.  [SEAL.] 

Executed  in  presence  of  HIRAM  CANNON. 

E.  H.  FITTER,        \ 
THOMAS  NEWTON.  J 


DATE 


TERMS 


COMPENSATION 


Merchant's  Agreement  with  his  Clerk. 

THIS  AGREEMENT,  made  this  first  day  of  January,  A.  D.  189  ,  by  and  between  J.  H.  Grove 
steen,  of  the  City  and  State  of  New  York,  party  of  the  first  part,  and  William  Wood,  of  the  City 
and  Stave  aforesaid,  party  of  the  second  part, 

WITNESSETH,  That  the  said  William  Wood  shall  enter  the  service  of  the  said  J.  H.  Gvove- 
steen  as  a  clerk  and  salesman. 

That  the  said  William  Wood  shall  faithfully,  honestly  and  diligently  perform  the  duties  of  a 
clerk  and  salesman  in  the  store  of  the  said  J.  H.  Grovesteen,  and  well  and  truly  obey  all  the 
reasonable  commands  and  wishes  of  the  said  J.  H.  Grovesteen,  during  the  space  of  three  years 
from  this  date. 

That  he  will  guard  his  employer's  interests,  and  keep  the  secrets  of  his  employer,  absenting 
himself  from  his  business  only  upon  said  employer's  consent. 

That  the  said  J.  H.  Grovesteen,  in  consideration  of  said  services,  will  pay  to  the  said  William 
Wood  a  yearly  sum  of  one  thousand  two  hundred  dollars,in  equal  payments  of  one  hundred  dollars 
on  the  first  day  of  each  and  every  calendar  month  of  the  year,  commencing  on  the  first  of 
February,  189  . 

Witness  our  hands, 

Executed  in  the  presence  of  J.  H.  GROVESTEEN. 

JOHN  Hiu,,  )  WII<I,IAM  WOOD. 

FRANCIS  WHITE,  j 


•ATE 


TERMS 


Contract  for  Building1  a  House. 

THIS  AGREEMENT,  made  the  tenth  day  of  April,  189  ,  between  Jesse  Perry  of  Germantown, 
County  of  Philadelphia,  State  of  Pennsylvania,  pf  the  first  part,  and  Abijah  Howe,  of  the  same 
town,  county,  and  State,  of  the  second  part — 

WITNESSETH,  that  the  said  Jesse  Perry,  party  of  the  first  part,  for  considerations  hereinafter 
named,  contracts  and  agrees  with  the  said  Abijah  Howe,  party  of  the  second  part,  his  heirs, 
assigns,  and  administrators,  that  he,  the  said  Perry,  will,  within  one  hundred  and  twenty  days, 
next  following  this  date,  in  a  good  and  workmanlike  manner,  and  according  to  his  best  skill, 
well  and  substantially  erect  and  finish  a  dwelling  house  on  lot  number  six,  in  block  number 
nine,  in  Solomon's  addition  to  Germantown,  facing  on  Talpehocken  Street,  which  said  house  is 
to  be  of  the  following  dimensions,  with  brick,  stone,  lumber,  and  other  materials,  as  are 
described  in  the  plans  and  specifications  hereto  annexed. 

[Here  describe  the  house,  material  fjr  construction,  and  plans  infull.~\ 

In  consideration  of  which,  the  said  Abijah  Howe  does,  for  himself  and  legal  representatives, 
promise  to  the  said  Jesse  Perry,  his  heirs,  executors,  and  assigns,  to  pay,  or  cause  to  be  paid,  to 
the  said  Perry,  or  his  legal  representatives,  the  sum  of  Eight  Thousand  Dollars,  in  manner  as 
follows,  to-wit :  One  Thousand  dollars  at  the  beginning  of  said  work,  one  thousand  dollars  on 
the  fifteenth  day  of  May  next,  one  thousand  dollars  on  the  first  day  of  June  next,  two  thousand 
dollars  on  the  first  day  of  July  next,  and  the  remaining  two  thousand  dollars  when  the  work 
shall  be  fully  completed. 

It  is  also  agreed  that  the  said  Jesse  Perry,  or  his  legal  representatives,  shall  furnish,  at  his 
ERMS .  or  their  own  expense,  all  doors,  blinds,  glazed  sash,  and  window  frames,  according  to  the  said 
plan,  that  may  be  necessary  for  the  building  of  said  house. 

It  is  further  agreed  that  in  order  to  be  entitled  to  said  payments  (the  first  one  excepted 
which  is  otherwise  secured),  the  said  Jesse  Perry,  or  his  legal  representatives,  shall,  according'to 
the  architect's  appraisement,  have  expended,  in  labor  and  material,  the  value  of  said  payment^ 
on  the  house,  at  time  of  payment. 


PAYMENTS  AND 
DATES  OF  SAME 


AGREEMENTS,  OR  CONTRACTS. 


411 


For  failure  to  accomplish  the  faithful  performance  of  the  agreements  aforesaid,  the  party  so 
foiling,  his  heirs,  executors,  or  assigns,  agrees  to  forfeit  and  pay  to  the  other  party,  or  his  legal 
representatives,  the  penal  sum  of  Fifteen  Hundred  Dollars,  as  fixed  and  settled  damages,  within 
one  month  from  the  time  of  so  failing. 

In  witness  whereof,  we  have  hereunto  set  our  hands,  the  year  and  day  first  above  written. 

JESSE  PERRY. 
ABIJAH  HOWE. 


MERCHANDISE 


Form  of  an  Agreement  for  the  Sale  and  Delivery  of  Personal  Property. 

This  agreement,  made  this  -  day  of  -  ,  one  thousand  eight  hundred  -  ,  between  -  -, 
of  the  city  of  -  of  the  first  part,  and  -  of  the  said  city,  of  the  second  part, 

Witnesseth,  that  the  said  --  ,  in  consideration  of  the  covenants  on  the  part  of  the  said  -  , 
doth  covenant  to  and  with  the  said  -  ,  that  he  will  deliver  to  the  said  -  at  his  storehouse  in 
-  aforesaid,  one  thousand  bushels  of  wheat,  of  good  merchantable  quality,  on  or  before  the  - 
day  of  -  next. 

HNCC  TO  BE  PAID  And  the  said  -  ,  in  consideration  of  the  covenants  on  the  part  of  the  said  -  doth 
covenant  and  agree  to  and  with  the  said  -  ,  that  he  will  pay  to  the  said  -  at  the  rate  of  - 
for  each  bushel  of  wheat  so  delivered,  immediately  on  the  completion  of  the  delivery  thereof. 

In  witness,  etc. 


ARBITRATION. 

When  two  or  more  persons  fail  to  agree 
in  the  settlement  of  a  business  transaction,  it 
is  usual  to  refer  the  matter  in  dispute  to  one 
or  more  disinterested  persons,  who  shall 
determine  what  is  fair  to  each  and  all  of  the 
parties  to  the  controversy.  The  parties  to 
the  dispute  should  pledge  themselves  to 
abide  bv  the  decision  of  the  arbitrators. 


Before  the  award  of  the  arbitrator  or  arbi 
trators  is  made,  either  of  the  parties  to  the 
dispute  may  withdraw  his  offer  to  accept  the 
decision  of  the  arbitrators.  He  must,  how 
ever,  give  formal  notice  to  each  and  all  of 
the  other  parties  of  his  intention,  or  his 
withdrawal  is  of  no  effect 

An  agreement  to  submit  a  matter  to  arbi 
tration  may  be  either  verbal  or  in  writing. 


MATTER  TO  BE 
REFERRED 


CHOICE  OF 
UMPIRE 


Form  of  Agreement  to  Refer  to  Arbitrators. 

KNOW  AI<I,  MEN  BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  That  we,  Richard  W.  Jenkins  and  Samuel  R.  Hicks, 
both  of  the  city  of  Easton,  State  of  Pennsylvania,  do  hereby  promise  and  agree,  to  and  with 
each  other,  to  submit,  and  do  hereby  submit  the  question  and  claim  between  us  respecting  the 
sale  of  one  thousand  bushels  of  wheat  from  the  said  Richard  W.  Jenkins  to  the  said  Samuel  R. 
Hicks,  on  the  tenth  day  of  September,  189  ,  to  the  arbitrament  and  determination  of  Henry  W. 
Palmer,  Joseph  B.  Howard,  and  Alfred  T.  Simpkins,  of  the  city  of  Easton,  whose  decision  and 
award  shall  be  final,  binding,  and  conclusive  on  us ;  and,  in  case  of  disagreement  between  the 
said  arbitrators,  they  may  choose  an  umpire,  whose  award  shall  be  final  and  conclusive ;  and, 
in  case  of  disagreement,  the  decision  and  award  of  a  majority  of  said  arbitrators  shall  be  final 
and  conclusive. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  We  have  hereunto  set  our  hands  this  tenth  day  of  October,  A.  r 
189  . 

RICHARD  W.  JENKINS. 
Witness,  SAMUEI/  R.  HICKS. 

GEORGE  P.  FRICK, 

THOMAS  H. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


Laws  of  Partnership. 


EN    who   associate   themselves    to 
gether  in  business  should  have  a 
clear  understanding  of  their  mu 
tual  and  individual  rights  and  obligations. 

A  partnership  is  an  agreement  between 
two  or  more  persons  for  joining  together 
their  money,  goods,  labor,  and  skill,  or  any 
or  all  of  them,  in  some  lawful  commerce  or 
business,  under  an  understanding,  express, 
or  implied  from  the  nature  of  the  undertak 
ing,  that  the  parties  to  the  agreement  shall 
share  between  them  the  profits  and  Joss  aris 
ing  therefrom. 

As  stated,  a  partnership  may  be  formed  by 
oral  agreement,  but  it  is  always  better  and 
safer  that  it  should  be  based  upon  written 
articles  of  agreement,  in  which  the  terms 
and  conditions  of  the  partnership  must  be 
stated  explicitly.  t 

A  single  joint  transaction,  cut  of  which 
considered  by  itself,  neither  profit  nor  loss 
arises,  will  not  create  a  partnership.  Neith  ^r 
is  it  a  partnership  where  parties  make  a  jo'.nt 
purchase  and  each  then  and  there  takes  his 
proper  share  of  the  goods. 

No  especial  form  of  words  is  necessary  in 
the  preparation  of  articles  of  partnership. 
The  agreement  should  give  the  full  names 
of  the  parties  to  it,  the  amount  of  money  or 
goods,  or  the  nature  of  the  services,  contri 
buted  by  each;  should  state  clearly  the 
responsibility  assumed  by  each ;  and  should 
set  forth  the  manner  in  which  the  profits 
arising  from  the  agreement  are  to  be  divided. 
In  the  absence  of  such  statement  the  law 
assigns  an  equal  responsibility,  and  presumes 
an  equal  division  of  the  profits. 
.  412 


The  partnership  dates  from  the  date  of  thfc 
articles,  unless  otherwise  expressly  stated  in 
the  agreement. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  each  partner  should 
contribute  an  equal  amount  of  money  to  be 
entitled  to  an  equal  share  of  the  profits.  An 
individual  may  contribute  his  knowledge  of 
the  business  to  be  engaged  in,  or  his  skill,  or 
his  labor,  or  all  three,  the  other  partner  or 
partners  contributing  a  specified  sum  of  mo 
ney,  or  the  money  and  their  services.  The 
agreement  must  state  exactly  what  is  contri 
buted. 

Each  and  every  partner  is  liable  for  the 
debts  or  losses  of  the  concern.  A  partner 
ship  may  bind  one  or  more  partners  to  beat 
the  losses,  and  exempt  another  partner,  or 
partners,  from  such  losses.  This  agreement  is 
perfectly  valid  between  the  partners,  but  it 
is  not  good  against  creditors  unless  such 
creditors  in  dealing  with  the  firm  were  aware 
of  this  agreement,  and  based  their  trans 
actions  upon  it. 

The  act  of  one  partner  binds  all  the  others. 
Thus,  if  one  partner  gives  a  negotiable  note 
for  the  use  of  the  firm,  and  signs  it  with  his 
individual  name,  such  signature  binds  all  the 
other  partners. 

Each  partner  is  absolutely  responsible  to 
every  creditor  of  the  firm  for  the  whole 
amount  of  the  debt  If  his  agreement  with 
them  limits  the  amount  of  his  responsibility, 
he  may  proceed  against  them  to  recover  his^ 
loss. 

A  person  lending  his  name  to  a  firm,  or 
causing,  or  allowing  it  to  be  published  as  one 
of  the  partners  in  a  concern,  or  allowing  it 


LAWS  OF  PARTNERSHIP. 


to  be  used  as  a  partner  after  he  has  with 
drawn  from  the  concern,  is  in  the  meaning 
of  the  law  a  partner  as  regards  the  claims  of 
creditors. 

The  Silent  Partner. 

A  person  who  contributes  his  money  to 
the  capital  of  a  firm  and  shares  its  profits, 
without  allowing  his  name  to  be  used,  is 
termed  a  secret  or  silent  partner.  A  person 
contributing  to  the  capital  and  sharing  the 
profits  of  the  concern,  but  taking  no  active 
part  in  its  management,  is  termed  a  sleeping 
or  dormant  partner.  Both  of  these  are  liable 
to  creditors  for  the  debts  of  the  concern, 
even  though  they  did  not  know  them  to  be 
members  of  the  firm. 

The  test  of  partnership  is  the  participation 
in  the  profits  of  the  business. 
,  In  forming  partnerships  it  is  generally  the 
tale  to  form  them  for  a  stated  period,  which 
must  be  expressed  in  the  agreement.  This 
is  termed  a  limited  partnership,  and  expires 
"by  limitation"  at  the  end  of  the  period 
named.  The  partners  are  then  free  to  renew 
their  agreement  or  r.ot,  as  they  may  see  fit. 
Where  an  agreement  does  not  specify  such  a 
period,  the  law  presumes  that  a  general 
partnership  is  intended.  This  may  be  dis 
solved  or  ended  at  the  pleasure  of  either 
party. 

Liabilities. 

A  sleeping  or  dormant  partner  is  not 
/iable  for  the  debts  of  the  firm  contracted 
after  his  retirement,  even  though  he  may 
give  no  notice  of  his  retirement,  as  such 
debts  are  not  contracted  upon  the  strength 
of  his  credit ;  and  as  he  has  no  further  parti 
cipation  in  the  profits  of  the  firm,  he  cannot 
be  called  on  to  share  its  liabilities. 

When  a  general  partnership  is  dissolved 
by  the  wanton  or  arbitrary  withdrawal  of 
either  partner,  such  partner  renders  himself 
to  the  others  for  the  loss  or  damage 


413 

they  may  suffer  by  this  action.  It  is  u«*ual 
to  state  in  the  agreement  how  a  general  part 
nership  may  be  terminated,  and  this  stipula 
tion  is  binding  upon  all  the  partners. 

A  partnership  may  be  dissolved  by  the  un 
animous  consent  of  all  the  partners,  or  a 
court  of  equity  may,  for  sufficient  cause,  de 
cree  the  dissolution  of  such  partnership. 
Dissipation  on  the  part  of  a  partner,  di& 
solute  or  reckless  habits,  calculated  to  en 
danger  the  credit  or  safety  of  the  firm,  are 
sufficient  grounds  for  the  other  partners  to 
invoke  the  action  of  the  courts,  where  a  mu 
tual  agreement  cannot  be  had. 

The  death  of  a  partner  dissolves  the  firm, 
and  its  affairs  must  be  adjusted  as  soon  as 
possible  thereafter. 

The  interest  of  a  partner  in  business  may 
be  attached  by  his  creditors  for  his  private 
debts.  Such  attachment  operates  as  a  disso 
lution  of  the  firm. 

When  a  partnership  is  dissolved,  notice 
of  such  dissolution  should  be  promptly 
published  in  the  principal  newspapers  of 
the  place  in  which  the  business  was  con 
ducted.  Notice  should  also  be  sent  to  the 
correspondents  of  the  firm.  In  the  absence 
of  such  precautions  each  partner  continues 
liable  for  the  acts  of  the  others  to  all  persons 
who  have  no  knowledge  of  the  dissolution. 

The  property  of  a  partnership  is  bound  for 
the  debts  of  the  firm.  The  creditor  of  one 
of  the  partners  cannot  attach  such  property 
until  the  debts  of  the  partnership  are  paid. 
If,  after  such  payment,  a  surplus  remain, 
then  such  creditor  may  attach  his  debtor's 
interest  in  the  partnership  funds  in  payment 
of  his  private  debt. 

Special  Partnerships. 

The  statutes  of  some  of  the  States  recog 
nize  another  kind  of  partnership,  known  as 
special  partnership.  A  special  partner  is 
one  who  contributes  a  stated  sum  of  money 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


to  the  business  of  the  concern,  for  a  desig 
nated  period.  He  shares  in  the  profits  of 
the  business  according  to  his  agreement  with 
the  general  partners;  but  his  liability  is 
limited  to  the  amount  of  money  contributed 
by  him  to  the  capital  of  the  firm. 

In  order  to  render  a  special  partnership 
valid,  the  partners  must  publish  in  one  or 
more  newspapers,  published  in  the  town  in 
which  they  do  business,  an  advertisement 
setting  forth  the  nature  and  limitation  of 
their  partnership,  giving  the  names  of  the 
general  partners,  the  name  of  the  special 
partner  and  the  exact  amount  contributed 


by  him  to  the  capital  of  the  concern.  This 
statement  must  be  verified  by  the  signatures 
of  all  the  parties,  and  sworn  to  before  a 
magistrate,  and  this  attestation  must  form 
a  part  of  the  advertisement.  Care  must  be 
taken  to  see  that  the  advertisement  states 
the  exact  amount  contributed  by  the  special 
partner.  An  error  in  this  respect,  even 
though  it  be  the  fault  of  the  printer,  if 
allowed  to  remain  uncorrected,  destroys  the 
effect  of  the  agreement,  and  renders  the 
special  partner  a  general  partner.  In  such 
a  case  he  becomes  liable  for  the  whole 
of  the  firm. 


DATE 


Form  of  Partnership  Agreement. 

ARTICLES  OF  AGREEMENT,  Made  this  first  day  of  January  rSg  ,  between  S.  R.  Dean,  of  the 
city  of  Cleveland,  State  of  Ohio,  and  Lewis  Camp,  of  the  city  and  St;:^  -\  oresaid, 
KIND  OF  BUSINESS  WiTNESSETH,  That  said  parties  above  named  have  agreed  to  bec^^ne  copartners  in  the 
business  of  buying  and  selling  dry  goods,  and  by  these  presents  do  agree  to  be  copartners 
together  under  and  by  the  name  or  firm  of  Dean  &  Camp,  in  the  buying,  selling,  and  vending 
all  sorts  of  goods,  wares,  and  merchandise,  to  the  said  business  belonging,  their  copartnership  to 
commence  on  the  fifth  day  of  January,  189  ,  and  to  continue  for  five  years  from  that  date,  and 
to  that  end  and  purpose  the  said  S.  R.  Dean  and  the  said  Lewis  Camp  have  each  contributed  the 
sum  often  thousand  dollars  as  capital  stock,  to  be  used  and  employed  in  common  between  them 
for  the  supportand  management  of  the  said  business,  to  their  mutual  benefit  and  advantage.  And 
RENTS  AND  it  is  agreed  by  and  between  the  parties  to  these  presents,  that  at  all  times  during  the  continuance 

OTHER  EXPENSES  Of  their  copartnership,  they  and  each  of  them,  will  give  their  attendance,  and  do  their  and  each 
of  their  best  endeavors,  and  to  the  utmost  of  their  skill  and  power  exert  themselves  for  their 
joint  interest,  profit,  benefit,  and  advantage,  and  truly  employ,  buy,  sell,  and  merchandise  with 
their  joint  stock,  and  the  increase  thereof,  in  the  business  aforesaid.  And  also  that  they  shall 
and  will  at  all  times  during  the  said  copartnership  bear,  pay,  and  discharge  equally  between 
them,  all  rents  and  other  expenses  that  may  be  required  for  the  support  and  management  of  the 
said  business ;  and  that  all  gains,  profit,  and  increase  that  shall  come,  grow,  or  arise  from  or  by 
means  of  their  said  business,  shall  be  divided  between  them,  in  equal  proportions,  and  all  loss 
that  shall  happen  to  their  said  joint  business,  by  ill  commodities,  bad  debt?,  or  otherwise,  shall 
be  borne  and  paid  between  them. 

And  it  is  agreed  by  and  between  the  said  parties,  that  there  shall  be  had  and  kept  at  all 
times  during  the  continuance  of  their  copartnership,  perfect,  just,  and  true  books  of  account, 
wherein  each  of  the  said  copartners  shall  enter  and  set  down,  as  well  all  money  by  them  or  either 
of  them  received,  paid,  laid  out,  and  expended  in  and  aboHt  the  said  business,  as  also  all  goods, 
wares,  commodities  and  merchandise,  by  them  or  either  of  them,  bought  or  sold  by  reason  or 
on  account  of  the  said  business,  and  all  other  matters  and  things  whatsoever  to  the  said  business 
and  the  management  thereof  in  anywise  belonging  ;  which  said  books  shall  be  used  in  commoc 
between  the  said  copartners,  so  that  either  of  them  may  have  access  thereto,  without  any  inter 
ruption  or  hindrance  of  the  other.  And  also  the  said  copartners,  once  in  each  and  every  year, 
or  oftener  if  necessary,  shall  make,  yield,  and  render  each  to  the  other,  a  true,  just,  and  perfect 
inventory  and  account  of  all  profits  and  increase  by  them,  or  either  of  them,  made,  and  of  all 
losses  by  them,  or  either  of  them,  sustained;  and  also  all  payments,  receipts,  disbursements,  and 
all  other  things  by  them  made,  received,  disbursed,  acted,  done,  or  suffered  in  this  said  copart 
nership  and  business,  and  Ihe  same  account  so  made  shall  and  will  clear,  adjust,  pay,  and 
deliver,  each  to  the  other,  at  the  time,  their  just  sb»re  of  th«a  profits  so  made  as  aforesaid. 


BOOKS  OF 
ACCOUNT 


PHI    *  AND  LOSS 


LAWS  OF  PARTNERSHIP. 


415 


INDORSEMENTS 
PROHIBITED 


flNAL  RETURNS 


And  the  said  parties  hereby  mutually  covenant  and  agree  to  and  with  each  other,  that, 
during  the  continuance  of  the  said  copartnership,  neither  of  them  shall  nor  will  indorse  any 
note,  or  otherwise  become  surety  for  any  person  or  persons  whomsoever,  without  the  consent 
of  the  other  of  the  said  copartners.  And  at  the  end,  or  other  sooner  determination  of  their 
copartnership,  the  said  copartners,  each  to  the  other,  shall  and  will  make  a  true,  just,  and  final 
account  of  all  things  relating  to  their  said  business,  and  in  all  things  truly  adjust  the  same ;  and 
all  and  every  the  stock  and  stocks,  as  well  as  the  gains  and  increase  thereof,  which  shall  appear 
to  be  remaining,  either  in  money,  goods,  wares,  fixtures,  debts,  or  otherwise,  shall  be  divided 
between  them. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  The  said  parties  have  hereunto  t,et  their  hands  thedayanc3  year  first 

above  written. 

Witness,  S.  R.  DEAN. 

ROBERT  SWAN,     ->  LEWIS  CAMP. 

CARLOS  FRENCH. j 


DATE 


BUSINESS 


CAPITAL 


EXHIBIT 


PROFITS 


ACCOUNT  TO 
BE  RENDERED 


PROVISION  FOR 
ARBITRATION 


Another  Partnership  Agreement. 

THIS  AGREEMENT  made  this  tenth  day  of  June,  189  ,  between  James  Smith,  of  Salem, 
Washington  County,  N.  Y.,  of  the  one  part,  and  Henry  Smythe,  of  the  same  place,  of  the  other 
part,  witnesseth : 

The  said  parties  agree  to  associate  themselves  as  copartners,  for  a  period  of  five  years  from 
this  date,  in  the  business  of  buying  and  selling  hardware  and  such  other  goods  and  commodities 
as  belong  in  that  line  of  trade ;  the  name  and  style  of  the  firm  to  be  "  Smith  &  Smythe. ' ' 

For  the  purpose  of  conducting  the  business  of  the  above  named  partnership,  James  Smith 
has,  at  the  date  of  this  writing,  invested  Five  Thousand  Dollars  as  capital  stock,  and  the  said 
Henry  Smythe  has  paid  in  the  like  sum  of  Five  Thousand  Dollars,  both  of  which  amounts  are 
to  be  expended  and  used  in  common,  for  the  mutual  advantage  of  the  parties  hereto,  in  the 
management  of  their  business. 

It  is  further  agreed  that  once  every  year,  or  oftener,  should  either  party  desire,  a  full,  just 
and  accurate  exhibit  shall  be  made  to  each  other,  or  to  their  executors,  administrators,  or 
representatives,  of  the  losses,  receipts,  profits  and  increase  made  by  reason  of,  or  arising  from 
such  copartnership.  And  after  such  exhibit  is  made,  the  surplus  profit,  if  such  there  be  resulting 
from  the  business,  shall  be  divided  between  the  subscribing  partners,  share  and  share  alike. 
[ffere  state  amount  to  be  drawn  out  annually  by  each  party .] 

And  further,  should  either  partner  desire,  or  should  death  of  either  of  the  parties,  or  other 
reasons,  make  it  necessary,  they,  the  said  copartners  will,  each  to  the  other,  or,  in  case  of  death 
of  either,  the  surviving  party  to  the  executors  or  administrators  of  the  party  deceased,  make  a 
a  full,  accurate  and  final  account  of  the  condition  of  the  partnership  as  aforesaid,  and  will,  fairly 
and  accurately,  adjust  the  same.  And  also,  upon  taking  an  inrentory  of  said  capital  stock,  with 
increase  and  profit  thereon,  which  shall  appear  or  is  found  to  be  remaining,  all  such  remainder 
shall  be  equally  apportioned  and  divided  between  them,  the  said  copartners,  their  executor?  or 
administrators,  share  and  share  alike. 

It  is  also  agreed  that  in  case  of  a  misunderstanding  arising  with  the  partners  hereto,  which 
cannot  be  settled  between  themselves,  such  difference  of  opinion  shall  be  settled  by  arbitrations 
upon  the  following  conditions,  to-wit:  Each  party  to  choose  one  arbitrator,  which  two  thus 
elected  shall  choose  a  third ;  the  three  thus  chosen  to  determine  the  merits  of  the  case,  and 
arrange  the  basis  of  a  settlement. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  The  undersigned  hereto  set  their  hands  the  day  and  year  first  abov< 
written. 

JAMES  SMITH. 

Signed  in  presence  of  HENRY  SMYTHE. 

JOHN  JONES,         1 
SAMUEI,  BROWN.  J 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


Bills  of  Sale,  Bonds  and  Assignments. 


OF  SALE  is  a  written  agree- 
ment  by  which  a  person  transfers  to 
another  person,  for  a  valuable  con 
sideration,  his  entire  right,  title,  and  interest 
in  personal  property. 

As  a  general  rule,  in  order  to  establish 
ownership  in  law,  the  purchaser  must  take 
actual  possession  of  the  property  purchased ; 


but  in  some  States,  if  the  sale  was  not  made, 

( 

fraudulently,  for  the  purpose  of  evading  the 
payment  of  just  debts,  the  bill  of  sale  is 
prima  facie  evidence  of  the  sale,  and  will 
hold  good  against  the  creditors  of  the  seller. 
Such  questions  must  be  decided  by  juries, 
who  have  power  to  set  aside  the  sale  in  cases 
where  fraud  is  proved. 


aOODS 

CONVEYED 


aUARANTY 


Bill  of  Sale — General  Form  with  Warranty. 

KNOW  Au,  MEN  BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  That  in  consideration  of  seven  hundred  dollars,  the 
receipt  of  -which  is  hereby  acknowledged,  I  do  hereby  grant,  sell,  transfer  and  deliver  unto 
Thomas  Wright,  his  heirs,  executors,  administrators,  and  assigns,  the  following  goods  and 
chattels,  viz. : 

One  set  of  parlor  furniture,  upholstered  in  purple  velvet $400.00 

One  set  of  black  walnut  chamber  furniture, 300.00 

$700.00 

To  have  and  to  hold  all  and  singular  the  said  goods  and  chattels  forever.  And  the  said 
grantor  hereby  covenants  with  said  grantee  that  he  is  the  lawful  owner  of  said  goods  and  chat 
tels  ;  that  they  are  free  from  all  incumbrances ;  that  he  has  good  right  to  sell  the  same,  as  afore 
said  ;  &nd  that  he  will  warrant  and  defend  the  same  against  the  lawful  claims  and  demands  of 
all  persons  whomsoever. 

IN  WITNES*  WHEREOP,  the  said  grantor  has  hereunto  set  his  hand  this  tenth  day  of 
March,  189  . 
Witnesses:  REILLY  VANSANT. 

Q.  C.  BERTRON, 

EI/MER  SCHT.ITZER. 


Bill  of  Sale— Of  a  Horse,  witli  Warranty. 

KNOW  AU,  MEN  BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  That  in  consideration  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
ART1CLE  OF  OALE  jarg^  to  me  paj(j  j^  patrick  Dooner,  the  receipt  of  which  is  hereby  acknowledged,  I,  John  Mul 
ligan,  by  these  presents  do  bargain,  sell,  and  convey  to  the  said  Patrick  Dooner,  his  heirs,  exec 
utors,  administrators,  and  assigns,  one  bay  horse,  of  the  male  sex,  bay  color,  fifteen  hands  high, 
with  a  white  star  in  the  forehead,  known  as  Old  Reliable,  to  have  and  to  hold  the  same  unto  the 
said  Patrick  Dooner,  his  heirs,  executors,  administrators,  and  assigns  forever. 

WARRANTY  And  I,  for  myself,  my  heirs,  executors,  and  administrators,  will  warrant  and  defend  said 

,  horse  unto  him,  the  said  Patrick  Dooner,  his  heirs,  executors,  administrators,  and  assigns, 

against  the  lawful  claims  and  demands  of  all  and  every  person  or  persons  whatsoever. 
Witness  my  hand  this  tenth  day  of  May,  189  . 

JOHN  MUIvUGAN. 
Witnesses : 

THOMAS  JACKSON, 
GEORGE  FUNT. 

416 


BILLS  OF  SALE,  BONDS  AND  ASSIGNMENTS. 


417 


BONDS. 

A  Bond  is  a  written  promise,  signed  and 
sealed  by  a  single  person,  to  pay  to  another 
person  a  certain  sum  of  money  at  a  desig 
nated  time.  A  promise  made  in  writing 
without  a  seal  is  not  a  bond,  but  merely  a 
simple  promise. 

The  bond  must  be  for  some  bonafide  con 
sideration. 

The  person  giving  the  bond  is  called  the 
obligor;  the  person  to  whom  it  is  given  is 
called  the  obligee. 

A  bond  is  usually  given  not  as.  j.  promise 
to  pay  money,  for  a  promissory  note  would 
answer  that  purpose,  but  as  a  promise  to  pay 
money  in  case  certain  acts  are  not  done. 
These  acts  are  specified  in  the  bond,  and  are 
called  the  condition  of  the  bond.  The  faith 
ful  performance  of  these  acts  within  the 
time  specified  renders  the  bond  null  and  void. 

The  amount  of  money  named  in  the  bond 
is  called  ^Q  penalty.  It  is  usually  sufficient 
to  cover  the  debt  it  is  intended  to  secure, 
with  interest  and  costs  added.  In  order  to 
secure  this  the  sum  is  fixed  at  twice  the 
amount  of  the  actual  debt  The  meaning 
and  effect  of  this  is,  that  if  the  obligor  fails, 
in  any  respect,  to  do  what  the  condition  re 
cites,  then  he  is  bound  to  pay  the  money  he 


acknowledges  himself,  in  the  bond,  bound  to 
pay.  But  now  the  law  comes  in  to  mitigate 
the  severity  of  this  contract.  And  whatever 
be  the  sum  which  the  obligor  acknowledges 
himself,  in  the  bond,  bound  to  pay,  lie  is 
held  by  the  courts  to  pay  the  obligee  only 
that  amount  which  will  be  a  complete  in 
demnification  to  him  for  the  damage  he  has 
sustained  by  the  failure  of  the  obligor  to  do 
what  the  condition  recites. 

For  example  :  suppose  A  B  makes  a  bond 
to  C  D  in  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars. 
The  condition  recites  that  one  E  F  has  been 
hired  by  C  D  as  his  clerk,  and  that  A  B 
guarantees  the  good  conduct  of  E  F ;  and  if 
E  F  does  all  his  duty  honestly  and  faithfully, 
then  the  bond  is  void,  and  otherwise  remains 
in  full  force.  Then  suppose  E  F  to  cheat 
C  D  out  of  some  money.  A  B  is  sued  on 
the  bond ;  C  D  cannot  recover  from  him,  in 
any  event,  more  than  the  ten  thousand  dol 
lars  ;  and  he  will,  in  fact,  recover  from  him 
only  so  much  of  this  as  will  make  good  to 
C  D  all  the  loss  he  has  sustained  by  E  F's 
misconduct.  As  the  obligee  can  recover  from 
the  obligor  only  actual  compensation  for 
what  he  loses,  it  is  usual  in  practice  to  make 
the  penal  sum  in  the  bond  large  enough  to 
cover  all  the  loss  that  can  happen. 


SMOUNT 
3FBOND 


Common  Form  of  Bond,   Without  Condition. 

KNOW  Au,  MEN  BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  That  I,  Charles  Thomas,  of  the  city  of  Richmond. 
State  of  Virginia,  am  held  and  firmly  bound  unto  Luther  Norton,  of  the  city  and  State  aforesaid, 
in  the  sum  of  two  hundred  dollars,  lawful  money  of  the  United  States  of  America,  to  be  paid  to 
the  said  Luther  Norton,  or  his  certain  attorney,  Timothy  Sloan,  or  his  assigns  ;  to  which  pay 
ment,  well  and  truly  to  be  made  on  or  before  the  first  day  of  January,  189  ,  I  bind  myself,  my 
heirs,  executors,  and  administrators  firmly  by  these  presents. 

Sealed  with  my  seal,  dated  March  i,  189  . 

IN  TESTIMONY  WHEREOF,  I,  Charles  Thomas,  have  set  my  hand  and  seal  to  this  instrument 
March  i.  189  . 

CHARLES  THOMAS.     [SEAI,.J[ 
and  delivered  in  presence  of 

J.  Q.  McCooK,  -> 
E.  K.  HETZKI-.  j 


418 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


AMOUNT  OF 
BOND 


CONDITIONS 


FORFEIT 


General  Form  of  Bond,  With  Condition. 

KNOW  AtX  MEN  BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  That  I,  Mortimer  Marsh,  of  the  city  of  Covingtoa, 
State  of  Kentucky,  am  held  and  firmly  bound  unto  Clark  Wilson,  of  the  city  and  State  aforesaid, 
in  the  sum  of  one  thousand  dollars,  to  be  paid  to  the  said  Clark  Wilson,  his  executors,  adminis 
trators,  or  assigns,  for  which  payment,  well  and  truly  to  be  made,  I  bind  myself,  my  heirs- 
executors,  and  administrators,  firmly  by  these  presents. 

Sealed  with  my  seal,  dated  the  twentieth  day  of  March,  189  . 

The  condition  of  the  above  obligation  is  such,  that  if  the  above-bounden  Mortimer  Marsh, 
his  heirs,  executors,  and  administrators,  or  any  of  them,  shall  well  and  truly  pay,  or  cause  to  lift 
paid,  unto  the  above-named  Clark  Wilson,  his  executors,  administrators,  or  assigns,  the  just  and 
full  sum  of  five  hundred  dollars,  on  the  tenth  day  of  March,  189  ,  with  interest,  at  six  per  cent, 
per  annum,  payable  half-yearly  from  the  date  hereof,  without  fraud  or  other  delay,  then  the 
above  obligation  to  be  void ;  otherwise,  to  remain  in  full  force. 

And  it  is  hereby  expressly  agreed,  that,  should  any  default  be  made  in  the  payment  of  the 
said  interest,  or  of  any  part  thereof,  on  any  day  whereon  the  same  is  made  payable,  as  above 
expressed,  and  should  the  same  remain  unpaid  and  in  arrear  for  the  space  of  thirty  days,  then 
and  from  thenceforth — that  is  to  say,  after  the  lapse  of  the  said  thirty  days — the  aforesaid 
principal  sum  of  five  hundred  dollars,  with  all  arrearages  of  interest  thereon,  shall  at  the  option 
of  the  said  Clark  Wilson,  or  his  executors,  administrators,  or  assigns,  become  and  be  due  anr^ 
payable  immediately  thereafter,  although  the  period  first  above  limited  for  the  payment  thereof 
may  not  then  have  expired,  anything  hereinbefore  contained  to  the  contrary  thereof  in  anywise 
notwithstanding. 

MORTIMER  MARSH.     [SEAI,.] 

Executed  and  delivered  in  presence  of 

CALVIN  KEYES, 
J.  C.  GALLOWAY. 


AMOUNT  OF 
BOND 


OBLIGATIONS 
VOID  OR 
EFFECTIVE 


Form  of  Bond,  with   Power  of  Attorney  to  Confess  Judgment. 

KNOW  Alyl,  MEN  BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  That  John  G.  Parsons,  of  the  city  of  Richmond,  State 
of  Virginia,  is  held  and  firmly  bound  unto  Richard  Jones,  of  the  city  and  State  aforesaid,  in  the 
sum  of  one  thousand  dollars,  lawful  money  of  the  United  States  of  America,  to  be  paid,  on  the 
first  day  of  March,  189  ,  to  the  said  Richard  Jones,  or  his  certain  attorney,  executors,  adminis 
trators,  or  assigns;  to  which  payment  well  and  truly  to  be  made,  his  heirs,  executors,  and 
administrators,  are  firmly  bound  by  these  presents. 

Sealed  with  his  seal,  dated  the  first  day  of  January,  189  . 

The  condition  of  this  obligation  is  : 

That  if  the  above-bounden  John  G.  Parsons,  his  heirs,  executors,  administrators,  or  any  of 
them,  shall  and  do  well  and  truly  pay,  or  cause  to  be  paid,  unto  the  above-named  Richard  Jones, 
or  his  attorney,  executors,  administrators,  or  assigns,  the  just  sum  of  five  hundred  dollars,  with 
out  any  fraud  or  further  delay,  then  the  above  obligation  to  be  void,  or  else  to  be  and  remain  iu 
full  force  and  effect. 


JOHN  G.   PARSONS. 


Sealed  and  delivered  in  the  presence  of 

B.  T.  SMITH, 
A.  H. 


To  George  Howard,  Esq.,  attorney  of  the  Circuit  Court,  at  Richmond,  in  the  county  of 
Heurico,  in  the  State  of  Virginia,  or  to  any  other  attorney  of  the  said  court,  or  of  any  other 
court,  there  or  elsewhere. 

Whereas,  John  G.  Parsons,  in  and  by  a  certain  obligation  bearing  even  date  herewith,  does 
stand  bound  unto  Richard  Jones,  in  the  sum  of  one  thousand  dollars,  lawful  money  of  the 
United  States  of  America,  conditioned  for  the  payment  of  •*.  certain  promissory  note,  dated  Jan 
uary  ist,  189 


BILLS  OF  SALE,  BONDS  AND  ASSIGNMENTS. 


?OWER  OF 
ATTORNEY 


-ORM  OF 
RELEASE 


419 


These  are  to  desire  and  authorize  you,  or  any  of  you,  to  appear  for  said  John  G.  Parsons, 
his  heirs,  executors,  or  administrators,  in  the  said  court  or  elsewhere,  in  an  action  of  debt,  there 
or  elsewhere  brought,  or  to  be  brought,  against  me,  or  my  heirs,  executors,  or  administrators, 
at  the  suit  of  the  said  Richard  Jones,  his  executors,  administrators,  or  assigns,  on  the  said 
obligation,  as  of  any  term  or  time  past,  present,  or  any  other  subsequent  term  or  time  there 
or  elsewhere  to  be  held,  and  confess  judgment  thereupon  against  me,  or  my  heirs,  executors, 
or  administrators,  for  the  sum  of  five  hundred  dollars,  debt,  besides  cost  of  suit,  in  such  manner 
as  to  you  shall  seem  meet ;  and  for  your,  or  any  of  your  so  doing,  this  shall  be  your  sufficient 
warrant. 

And  I  do  hereby  for  myself,  and  for  my  heirs,  executors,  and  administrators,  remise,  release 
and  forever  quit-claim  unto  the  said  Richard  Jones,  or  his  attorney,  executors,  administrators, 
and  assigns,  all  and  all  manner  of  error  and  errors,  misprisions,  misentries,  delects  and  imper 
fections  whatever,  in  the  entering  of  the  said  judgment,  or  any  process  or  proceedings  thereon 
or  thereto,  or  anywise  touching  or  concerning  the  same. 

In  witness  whereof,  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and  seal  the  first  day  of  January  l 
A.  D.  189  . 

JOHN  G.  PARSONS.     [SEAT,.] 
Sealed  and  delivered  in  presence  of 

ALFRED  JEROME,  \ 
GEORGE  PEASE.     / 


ASSIGNMENTS. 

An  assignment  is  an  instrument  by  which 
a  person  transfers  a  debt,  obligation,  bond, 
or  wages,  or  any  actual  interest,  to  another. 

An  assignment  may  be  written  on  the 
back  of  the  instrument  it  is  intended  to 
convey,  or  it  may  be  written  on  a  separate 
paper. 

Only  when  made  in  good  faith  is  an 
assignment  valid.  Any  interested  party  can 
test  its  validity  in  an  action.  If  the  assign 
ment  was  made  to  evade  debts  due  to  cred 
itors  it  will  be  set  aside,  but  such  fraud  must 
be  proven  before  a  jury,  else  it  will  stand. 

An  assignment  for  the  benefit  of  his  cred 
itors  must  be  an  unconditional  surrender  by 
a  debtor  of  all  his  effects.  To  secretly  hold 
back  any  property  is  fraudulent,  and  punish 
able  by  statute. 

An  insolvent  debtor  is  allowed  to  prefer 
one  creditor  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others,  if 


he  does  so  in  good  faith.  Even  should  an 
other  creditor  commence  suit  against  him, 
he  can  still  prefer  one. 

An  insolvent  debtor  making  an  assign 
ment  in  trust  to  pay  certain  creditors,  who 
are  to  transfer  the  residue  to  the  debtor,  is 
void  as  to  the  remaining  creditors,  even  if 
evidence  is  offered  that  there  will  be  no  sur< 
plus. 

An  assignment  authorizing  the  assignee  to 
change,  at  discretion,  the  order  of  preference 
of  creditors,  is  void. 

An  immediate  delivery  of  the  property 
must  accompany  an  assignment  for  the  ben 
efit  of  creditors. 

Assignees  and  trustees  are  entitled  to  tht 
same  compensation  that  is  allowed  to  ad- 
ministrators,  executors  and  guardians. 

Assignments,  and  assignments  of  moit' 
gage,  must  be  acknowledged  and  recorded, 
like  all  other  conveyances  of  property. 


BENJAMIN 
HARRISON 


Form  of  Assignment  of  a  Promissory  Note. 

(  To  be  written  on  the  back  of  the  note.) 

I  hereby,  for  value  received,  assign  and  transfer  th«  within  written  note,  together  with  al 
rights  under  the  same,  to  Benjamin  Harrison. 

JOHN  WANAMAKER. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Deeds  and  Mortgages. 


O  documents  employed  in  business  are 
more  important  than  deeds  and 
mortgages.  In  former  times,  any 
writing  signed  and  sealed  was  termed  a  deed. 
Now,  the  law  confines  the  meaning  to  instru 
ments  for  the  sale  of  lands.  In  this  country, 
'no  lands  can  be  transferred  excepting  by  a 
jleed,  which  must  be  properly  signed,  sealed, 
witnessed,  acknowledged,  delivered,  and 
recorded.  In  some  of  the  States,  seals  are 
not  necessary  to  the  validity  of  a  deed. 

A  deed  should  be  written  or  printed  on 
parchment,  as  paper  is  more  perishable  in 
character. 

The  person  making  the  deed  is  called  the 
grantor ;  the  person  in  whose  favor  the  deed 
is  made  is  called  the  grantee. 

The  deed  should  be  signed  by  the  grantor 
with  his  full  name,  written  clearly  in  ink  of 
the  best  quality.  A  person  accepting  a  deed 
signed  with  a  lead-pencil  places  his  rights  in 
jeopardy.  If  the  grantor  cannot  write  his 
name,  he  may  make  his  mark. 

The  name  of  the  grantee  should  be  written 
clearly,  with  good  ink,  in  the  proper  place  in 
the  deed. 

In  the  States  which  require  a  seal  great 
catre  must  be  given  to  see  that  only  those 
recognized  in  law  are  used.  Strictly  speak 
ing,  a  seal  is  a  piece  of  paper  wafered  on,  or 
fl  piece  of  sealing-wax  pressed  on  the  paper. 
In  the  New  England  States  and  in  New 
York,  the  law  does  not  acknowledge  any 
other  kind.  In  the  Southern  and  Western 
States,  the  written  word  Seal,  with  a  scrawl 
around  it,  placed  after  the  signature,  con 
stitutes  a  legal  seal. 
430 


A  deed  must  be  delivered  in  order  to  ren° 
der  it  valid.  There  is  no  special  form  neces 
sary  to  constitute  a  proper  delivery.  If  the 
deed  comes  into  the  possession  of  the  grantee 
with  the  knowledge  and  consent  of  the  gran 
tor,  however  it  may  have  been  gotten  posses 
sion  of,  it  is  a  valid  delivery.  If  a  man  makes 
a  deed  and  fails  to  deliver  it,  and  dies  with  it 
in  his  possession,  the  deed  is  of  no  effect 
whatever.  A  deed  to  a  married  woman 
may  be  delivered  either  to  her  or  to  her 
husband. 

Some  of  the  States  r^-iire  that  deeds  shall 
be  attested  by  two  witnesses.  New  York 
requires  but  one.  Other  States  do  not 
require  any  witnesses;  but  in  all  cases  a 
deed  ought  to  be  witnessed  by  at  least  two 
persons,  whether  the  law  requires  it  or  not. 
It  is  best  to  have  adult  witnesses ;  but  minors 
may  act  in  the  capacity  if  they  be  of  sound 
mind.  The  witness  must  have  no  interest 
in  the  deed.  For  this  reason  a  wife  cannot 
witness  her  husband's  signature. 

As  a  general  rule,  deeds  are  valid  between 
parties  even  when  not  acknowledged.  It  is 
always  best  to  have  them  acknowledged,  how 
ever,  as  an  unacknowledged  deed  cannot  be 
recorded.  The  acknowledgment  must  be 
made  before  a  person  authorized  by  law  to 
receive  it  In  some  places  a  deed  may  be 
acknowledged  by  either  of  the  grantors,  but 
the  old  custom  of  an  acknowledgment  by  all 
the  grantors  is  the  safest  as  well  as  the  most 
general.  Where  a  wife  joins  with  her  hus 
band  in  conveying  away  her  land,  or  does  so 
separately,  a  particular  form  and  mode  of 
acknowledgment  is  generally  required  to 


DEEDS  AND  MORTGAGES. 


42* 


show  that  she  acted  without  undue  influence 
from  him,  and  of  her  own  free  will. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  justice  taking  the 
acknowledgment  to  state  in  his  certificate 
exactly  how  it  was  made  before  him. 

A  deed  must  be  recorded  to  be  valid. 
Inat  is,  the  grantee  must  deliver  it  to  the 
Recorder  of  Deeds,  or  other  official  appointed 
by  law  for  that  purpose,  who  must  cause  it 
to  be  copied  in  full  in  a  book  kept  in  his 
office  for  that  purpose.  A  deed  is  regarded 
as  recorded  from  the  moment  it  is  placed  in 
the  hands  of  this  officer,  and  he  generally 
writes  upon  it  the  year,  month,  day,  hour, 
and  minute  when  he  received  it.  Deeds 
should  be  presented  for  record  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment.  Sometimes  the  owner 
ship  to  the  land  conveyed  may  depend  upon 
the  exact  minute  at  which  the  deed  was 
delivered  for  record.  This  system  of  record 
ing  deeds  enables  a  person  to  trace  the  title 
to  a  property  with  absolute  certainty. 
-  All  erasures  or  additions  to  a  deed  should 
be  noted  at  the  end  of  it,  and  properly  wit 
nessed.  Any  such  change  without  being 


thus  provided  for  renders  the  deed  null  and 
void. 

In  order  to  make  a  valid  deed,  the  grantor 
must  be  the  true  and  lawful  owner  of  the 
property ;  must  be  of  legal  age ;  and  must  be 
of  sound  mind. 

A  deed  takes  effect,  as  between  the  parties, 
from  the  moment  of  its  delivery.  It  takes 
effect  as  against  the  creditors  of  the  grantor 
from  the  moment  of  its  delivery  for  record. 

The  land  conveyed  in  the  deed  should  be 
accurately  described,  no  pains  being  spared 
in  this  respect.  In  this  country  it  is  the 
usual  custom  to  refer  to  the  previous  deeds 
by  which  the  grantor  obtained  his  title. 
This  is  done  by  describing  them,  their 
parties,  date,  and  book  and  page  of  registry, 
A  deed  thus  described  in  a  deed  becomes, 
for  most  purposes  in  law,  a  part  of  the  deed 
referring. 

A  deed  should  convey  land  to  the  grantee 
and  his  heirs.  Deeds  conveying  land  to  the 
grantee  only,  limit  his  title  to  his  life,  and 
he  cannot  leave  lands  thus  acquired  to  his 
heirs ;  nor  can  he  dispose  of  it  during  his  lire. 


DATE  OF  DEED 


AMOUNT  TO  BE 
PAID 


EXTENT  OF 
SALE 


Warranty  Deed  with  Covenants, 

THIS  INDENTURE,  made  this  eighteenth  day  of  March,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  189  ,  between 
Ben  Cooper,  of  Ramsey,  County  of  Fayette,  State  of  Illinois,  and  Mary,  his  wife,  of  the  first 
part,  and  L.  Y.  Rood,  of  the  same  place,  of  the  second  part, 

Witnesseth,  that  the  said  party  of  the  first  part,  for  and  in  consideration  of  the  sum  of  Three 
Thousand  Dollars  in  hand,  paid  by  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  the  receipt  whereof  is  here 
by  acknowledged,  have  granted,  bargained,  and  sold,  and  by  these  presents  do  grant,  bargain 
and  sell,  unto  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  his  heirs  and  assigns,  all  the  following  described 
jot,  piece,  or  parcel  of  land,  situated  in  the  town  of  Ramsey,  in  the  County  of  Fayette,  and  State 

of  Illinois,  to  wit : 

\JFIere  describe  the  property^ 

Together  with  all  and  singular  the  hereditaments  and  appurtenances  thereunto  belonging  or 
in  any  wise  appertaining,  and  the  reversion  and  reversions,  remainder  and  remainders,  rents, 
issues,  and  profits  thereof;  and  all  the  estate,  right,  title,  interest,  claim  and  demand  whatsoever, 
of  the  said  party  of  the  first  part,  either  in  law  or  equity,  of,  in,  and  to  the  above  bargained  pren> 
ises,  with  the  hereditaments  and  appurtenances :  To  have  and  to  hold  the  said  premises  above 
bargained  and  described,  with  the  appurtenances,  unto  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  his 
heirs  and  assigns,  forever.  And  the  said  Ben  Cooper,  and  Mary  his  wife,  parties  of  the  first  part, 
hereby  expressly  waive,  release  and  relinquish  unto  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  his  heirs, 
executors,  administrators,  and  assigns,  all  right,  title,  claim,  interest,  and  benefit  whatever,  in 
and  to  the  above  described  premises,  and  each  and  every  part  thereof,  which  is  given  by  of  *•• 
suits  from  all  laws  of  this  State  pertaining  to  the  exemption  of  homesteads. 


422 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


COVENANTS 


And  the  said  Ben  Cooper  and  Mary  Cooper,  his  -wife,  party  of  the  first  part,  for  t 
and  their  heirs,  executors,  and  administrators,  do  covenant,  grant,  bargain,  and  agree,  to  and 
with  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  his  heirs  and  assigns,  that  at  the  time  of  the  ensealing 
and  delivery  of  these  presents  they  were  well  seized  of  the  premises  above  conveyed,  as  of  a 
good,  sure,  perfect,  absolute,  and  indefeasible  estate  of  inheritance  in  law,  and  in  fee  simple,  and 
have  good  right,  full  power,  and  lawful  authority  to  grant,  bargain,  sell,  and  convey  the  same,  in 
manner  and  form  aforesaid,  and  that  the  same  are  free  and  clear  from  all  former  and  other  grants, 
bargains,  sales,  liens,  taxes,  assessments,  and  encumbrances  of  what  kind  or  nature  soever  "  and 
the  above  bargained  premises  in  the  quiet  and  peaceable  possession  of  the  said  party  of  the 
second  part,  his  heirs  and  assigns,  against  all  and  every  person  or  persons  lawfully  claiming  or 
to  claim  the  whole  or  any  part  thereof,  the  said  party  of  the  first  part  shall  and  will  warrant  and 
forever  defend. 

In  testimony  whereof,  the  said  parties  of  the  first  part  have  hereunto  set  their  hands  and 
seals  the  day  and  year  first  above  written. 

Signed,  sealed,  and  delivered  in  presence  of)  BEN  COOPER.         [SEAL.] 

J.  U.  BARTHOLOMEW.     I  MARY  COOPER.     [SEAL.] 


MONEY 
CONSIDERATION 


Quit-Claim  Deed — Simple  Form. 

THIS  INDENTURE,  Made  the  first  day  of  January,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  189  ,  between 
Thomas  Barry,  merchant,  of  the  town  of  West  Chester,  State  of  Pennsylvania,  of  the  first  part, 
and  Albert  Nicholas,  farmer,  of  the  town  and  State  aforesaid,  of  the  second  part,  witnesseth, 
that  the  said  party  of  the  first  part,  for  and  in  consideration  of  the  sum  of  five  thousand  dollars, 
lawful  money  of  the  United  States  of  America,  to  him  in  hand  paid  by  the  said  party  of  the 
second  part,  at  or  before  the  ensealing  and  delivery  of  these  presents,  the  receipt  whereof  is 
hereby  acknowledged,  has  remised,  released,  and  quitclaimed,  and  by  these  presents  does  remise, 
release,  and  quitclaim,  unto  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  and  to  his  heirs  and  assigns, 
forever,  all — 

\Here  insert  a  minute  and  accurate  description  of  the  lands  or  property  granted. .] 

TOGETHER  with  all  and  singular  the  tenements,  hereditaments,  and  appurtenances  thereto 
belonging  or  in  anywise  appertaining,  and  the  reversion  and  reversions,  remainder  and  remain 
ders,  rents,  issues,  and  profits  thereof.  And  also  all  the  estate,  right,  title,  interest,  property, 
possession,  claim,  and  demand  whatsoever,  as  well  in  law  as  in  equity,  of  the  said  party  of  the 
first  part,  of,  in,  or  to  the  above-described  premises,  and  every  part  and  parcel  thereof,  with  the 
appurtenances :  To  have  and  to  hold  all  and  singular  the  above-mentioned  and  described  prem 
ises,  together  with  the  appurtenances,  unto  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  and  his  heirs  and 
assigns  forever. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  The  said  party  of  the  first  part  has  hereunto  set  his  hand  and  seal 
the  day  and  year  first  above  written. 

THOMAS  BARRY.     [SEAL.] 
Seated  and  delivered  in  presence  of 

O.  B.  GILMORE,  | 
JAMES  MACAN.   j 
STATE  OF  PENNSYLVANIA,   •» 
COUNTY  OF  CHESTER.       J    ' 

On  this  first  day  of  January,  in  the  year  189  ,  before  me  personally  came  Thomas  Barry, 
who  is  known  by  me  to  be  the  individual  described  in,  and  who  executed  the  foregoing  instru 
ment,  and  acknowledged  that  he  executed  the  same. 

HIRAM  GRANT-     [SEAL.] 


Deed  of  Gift,  without  Warranty. 

THIS  INDENTURE,  Made  the  first  day  of  March,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  189  ,  between  N.  T. 
Harper,  merchant,  of  the  city  of  Baltimore,  State  of  Maryland,  of  the  first  part,  and  Greene 
Hawes,  attorney-at-law,  of  the  city  and  State  aforesaid,  of  the  second  part. 


DEEDS  AND  MORTGAGES. 


423 


WiTNESSETH,  That  the  said  N.  T.  Harper,  as  well  for  and  in  consideration  of  the  love  and 
affection  which  he  has  and  bears  towards  the  said  Greene  Hawes,  as  for  the  sum  of  one  dollar, 
lawful  money  of  the  United  States,  to  hin  in  hand  paid  by  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  at 
or  before  the  ensealing  and  delivery  of  tL  s^i  presents,  the  receipt  whereof  is  hereby  acknowl 
edged,  has  given,  granted,  aliened,  enfeoffed,  released,  conveyed,  and  confirmed,  and  by  these 
presents  does  give,  grant,  alien,  enfeoff,  release,  convey,  and  confirm  unto  the  said  party  of  the 
second  part  and  his  heirs  and  assigns  forever,  all — 

[Here  insert  a  minute  and  carefully  prepared  description  of  the  property  granted,  and  refer  by  volume 
and  page  to  the  deed  cf  the  property  to  th*  grantor  t  under  -which  he  holds  it.~\ 

TOGETHER  with  all  and  singular  tue  tenements,  hereditaments,  and  appurtenances  there- 
FUlk  SURRENDER  tmto  belonging  or  in  anywise  appertaining,  and  the  reversion  and  reversions,  remainder  and 
remainders,  rents,  issues  and  profits  thereof.  Ar:d  also,  all  the  estate,  right,  title,  interest, 
property,  possession,  claim,  and  demand  whatsoever,  of  the  said  party  of  the  first  part,  of,  in, 
and  to  the  same,  and  every  part  and  parcel  thereof,  with  their  and  every  of  their  appurtenances. 
To  have  and  to  hold  the  said  hereby  granted  and  described  premises,  and  every  part  and  parcel 
thereof,  with  the  appurtenances,  unto  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  and  his  heirs  and 
assigns,  to  his  and  their  only  proper  use,  benefit,  and  behoof  forever. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  The  said  party  of  the  first  part  has  hereunto  set  his  hand  and  seal 
the  day  and  year  first  above  written. 

N.  T.  HARPER.     [SEAI,.] 
Sealed  and  delivered  in  presence  of 

BYRON  WAT*SWORTH,  -i 
SAMUEL  PRATT.         j 

MORTGAGES. 


A  MORTGAGE  is  a  deed  conveying  real 
estate  to  a  creditor,  as  security  for  a  debt. 
It  conveys  the  property  to  him  as  fully  and 
absolutely  as  though  it  were  sold  outright, 
with  this  difference  that  the  debtor  retains 
by  the  terms  of  the  deed  the  right  to  pay 
the  debt  and  redeem  the  property  within  a 
specified  time. 

The  person  giving  a  mortgage  is  called 
the  mortgagor /  the  person  receiving  one, 
the  mortgagee. 

A  note  is  generally  given  by  the  debtor, 
and  the  mortgage  is  designed  to  secure  it. 
In  some  of  the  States,  a  bond  is  given  in 
place  of  the  note.  The  words  of  the  mort 
gage  should  state  clearly  which  is  given. 

The  mortgagee  has  a  valid  title  to  the 
property  conveyed,  and  all  the  mortgagor 
owns  in  relation  to  it  is  the  right  to  pay  the 
debt  and  redeem  the  property.  Hence,  unless 


right  to  enter  upox*  the  property  and  take 
possession  of  it.  ft  is,  therefore,  customary 
to  give  the  mortgagor  the  right  of  possession. 

In  former  years  a  mortgagor  lost  his  right 
to  redeem  his  property  when  the  mortgage 
was  unpaid  on  the  day  it  became  due.  Now, 
however,  the  law  secures  to  him  three  years 
after  the  expiration  of  the  mortgage,  in 
which  he  may  pay  the  debt,  with  interest 
and  costs,  and  redeem  his  property.  This 
is  called  his  equity  of  redemption.  The 
mortgagor  may  sell  his  equity  of  redemp 
tion,  or,  he  may  mortgage  it  by  making  a 
second  or  other  subsequent  mortgage  of  the 
property,  and  it  may  be  attached  by  creditors, 
and  would  go  to  assignees  as  a  part  of  his 
property  if  he  became  insolvent. 

As  many  persons  object  to  lending  money 
upon  mortgages  in  which  this  equity  of 
redemption  is  reserved,  it  has  become  com- 


the  deed  expressly  stipulates  that  the  mort-  j  mon  of  late  years,  to  include  in  the  mortgage 
gagor  may  remain  in  possession  of  the  prop-  a  clause  stipulating  that  if  the  money  is  not 
erty  until  the  time  for  the  payment  of  the  paid  when  it  is  due,  the  mortgagee  may,  in 
debt  arrives,  the  mortgagee  has  a  perfect  ]  a  certain  number  of  days  thereafter,  sell  the 


424 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


property  (providing  also  such  precautions  to 
secure  a  fair  price  as  may  be  agreed  upon), 
and,  reserving  enough  to  pay  his  debt  and 
charges,  pay  over  the  balance  to  the  mort 
gagor.  This  is  called  a  power  of  sale  mort 
gage,  and  is  an  arrangement  sanctioned  by 
the  law.  It  must  be  remembered,  however, 
that  the  equity  of  redemption  exists  in  all 
mortgages  which  do  not  contain  the  above 
express  stipulation. 

The  three  years  of  redemption  begin  on 
the  day  on  which  the  mortgagee  forecloses 
the  mortgage,  or,  in  other  words,  takes  law 
ful  possession  of  the  property.  If  the  mort 
gagee  allows  a  dozen  years  to  pass  without 
foreclosing,  he  must  reckon  the  three  years 
of  redemption  from  the  day  of  foreclosure. 

In  foreclosing,  he  must  make  entry  upon 
the  property  in  a  peaceable  manner,  in  the 
presence  of  witnesses,  or  by  an  action  at  law. 
The  mode  of  procedure  is  governed  by  the 
laws  of  the  several  States. 

When  a  mortgagor  wishes  to  redeem  his 
property,  he  must  make  a  formal  tender  of 
the  debt  due,  together  with  interest  and  all 
the  lawful  charges  of  the  mortgagee.  He  is 
entitled  to  such  rents  or  profits  as  the  mort 
gagee  has  actually  received,  or  would  have 
received  had  he  used  due  diligence  in  collect 
ing  them. 

It  is  usual  for  the  mortgage  to  contain  an 
agreement  that  the  mortgagor  shall  keep  the 
premises  insured  in  a  certain  sum  for  the 
benefit  of  the  mortgagee.  Where  no  such 


stipulation  is  made,  and  the  mortgagee 
insures  the  premises,  he  cannot  recover  the 
cost  of  the  insurance  from  the  mortgagor. 

Should  a  mortgagor  erect  buildings  upon 
mortgaged  land,  the  mortgagee,  on  taking 
possession,  becomes  the  owner  of  these 
buildings  also.  If,  however,  the  mortgagee 
erects  buildings  upon  lands  on  which  he 
holds  a  mortgage,  the  mortgagor,  upon 
redeeming  the  land,  becomes  the  owner  of 
such  buildings  without  paying  the  mort 
gagee  for  them.  Such  matters  may,  and 
should  always,  be  regulated  by  an  agree 
ment  between  the  parties. 

In  some  of  the  States  _„  is  usual  to  release 
a  mortgage  by  a  quit-claim  deed  from  the 
holder  of  the  mortgage  to  the  holder  of  the 
property  or  of  the  equity  of  redemption. 
Another  common  practice  is  for  the  Register 
or  Recorder  of  Deeds  to  write  an  acknowl 
edgment  of  satisfaction,  release,  or  discharge, 
on  the  margin  of  the  record  of  the  mortgage, 
which  must  be  signed  by  the  mortgagee  or 
holder  of  the  mortgage.  Any  instrument, 
or  writing  which  plainly  states  that  the  sum 
or  sums  due  upon  such  mortgage  have  been 
faithfully  paid,  will  constitute  a  valid  release 
of  the  mortgage.  Such  instrument  must  be 
duly  signed,  sealed,  and  recorded.  A  release 
of  a  mortgage  takes  effect  from  the  time  it 
is  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  Recorder  of 
Deeds,  whose  duty  it  is  to  record  in  a  book 
kept  for  that  purpose  all  proper  releases  or 
discharges,  or  satisfactions  of  this  kind. 


PARTIES  NAMED 
AND  DATE 


AMOUNT  OF 
INDEBTEDNESS 


Real  Estate  Mortgage  to  Secure  Payment  of  Money. 

THIS  INDENTURE,  Made  this  nineteenth  day  of  October,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  189  > 
between  W.  H.  Harrison,  of  Urbana,  County  of  Champaign,  and  State  of  Illinois,  and  Helen, 
his  wife,  party  of  the  first  part,  and  Robert  Fairchild,  party  of  the  second  part. 

WHEREAS,  The  said  party  of  the  first  part  is  justly  indebted  to  the  said  party  of  the  second 
part,  in  the  sum  of  Four  Thousand  dollars,  secured  to  be  paid  by  two  certain  promissory  notes 
(bearing  even  date  herewith)  the  one  due  and  payable  at  the  First  National  Bank  at  Champaign, 
111.,  with  interest,  on  the  nineteenth  day  of  October,  in  the  year  189  ;  the  other  due  and  payable 
at  the  First  National  Bank  at  Champaign,  111.,  with  interest,  on  the  nineteenth  day  o; 
October,  189  . 


BONDS  AND  MORTGAGES. 


425 


SRANT  AND 
CONVEYANCE 


FULL  RELEASE 


tf«VIOLABLE 

PROVISION 


Now,  THEREFORE,  THIS  INDENTURE  WITNESSETH,  That  the  said  party  of  the  first  part,  for 
the  better  securing  the  payment  of  the  money  aforesaid,  with  interest  thereon,  according  to  tba 
tenor  and  effect  of  the  said  two  promissory  notes  above  mentioned ;  and,  also,  in  consideration 
of  the  further  sum  of  one  dollar  to  them  in  hand  paid  by  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  at  the 
delivery  of  these  presents,  the  receipt  whereof  is  hereby  acknowledged,  have  granted,  bargained, 
sold,  and  conveyed,  and  by  these  presents  do  grant,  bargain,  sell,  and  convey,  unto  the  said 
party  of  the  second  part,  his  heirs  and  assigns,  forever,  all  that  certain  parcel  of  land,  situate,  etc./ 

[Describing  the  premises. ,] 

To  have  and  to  hold  the  same,  together  with  all  and  singular  the  tenements,  hereditament^ 
privileges,  and  appurtenances  thereunto  belonging  or  in  any  wise  appertaining.  And  also,  all 
the  estate,  interest,  and  claim  whatsoever,  in  law  as  well  as  in  equity,  which  the  party  of  the 
first  part  have  in  and  to  the  premises  hereby  conveyed  unto  the  said  party  of  the  second  part, 
his  heirs  and  assigns,  and  to  their  only  proper  use,  benefit,  and  behoof.  And  the  said  W.  H. 
Harrison,  and  Helen,  his  wife,  party  of  the  first  part,  hereby  expressly  waive,  relinquish, 
release,  and  convey  unto  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  his  heirs,  executors,  administrators, 
and  assigns,  all  right,  title,  claim,  interest,  and  benefit  whatever,  in  and  to  the  above  described 
premises,  and  each,  and  every  part  thereof,  which  is  given  by  or  results  from  all  ^aws  of  this 
State  pertaining  to  the  exemption  of  homesteads. 

PROVIDED  ALWAYS,  and  these  presents  are  upon  this  express  condition,  that  if  tiie  said  party 
of  the  first  part,  their  heirs,  executors,  or  administrators,  shall  well  and  truly  pay,  or  cause  to 
be  paid,  to  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  his  heirs,  executors,  administrators,  or  assigns,  the 
aforesaid  sums  of  money,  with  such  interest  thereon,  at  the  time  and  in  the  manner  specified  in 
the  above  mentioned  promissory  notes,  according  to  the  true  intent  and  meaning  thereof,  then 
in  that  case,  these  presents  and  everything  herein  expressed,  shall  be  absolutely  null  and  void. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  the  said  party  of  the  first  part  hereunto  set  their  hands  and  seals  the 
day  and  year  first  above  written. 
Signed,  sealed  and  delivered  1 

in  presence  of  I  W.  H.  HARRISON.        [r,.  s.] 

OTIS  OBER,  HELEN  HARRISON,     [i,.  S.] 

ANDREW  AUSTIN.  J 


CHATTEL  MORTGAGES 


A  Chattel  Mortgage  is  a  mortgage  given 
upon  personal  property  for  the  purpose  of 
securing  a  creditor.  Formerly,  if  the  mort 
gagor  remained  in  possession  of  the  property, 
it  was  doubtful  whether  the  mortgagee  held 
a  valid  security.  Now,  however,  in  most  of 
the  States,  the  mortgagor  may  retain  the 
property  and  the  mortgagee  is  fully  secured 
by  recording  the  mortgage,  according  to  the 
provisions  of  the  statutes  of  the  State  in 
which  it  is  made. 


Al!  chattel  mortgages  should  contain  a 
clause  providing  for  the  equity  of  redemp 
tion.  The  average  period  allowed  for  re 
demption  is  sixty  days.  This  right  may  be 
waived  by  including  in  the  mortgage  a 
power  of  sale  clause. 

The  mortgagee  may  transfer  the  mortgage 
to  another  party  for  a  valuable  consideration, 
but  property  thus  mortgaged  cannot  be 
seized  or  sold  until  the  period  for  which  the 
mortgage  was  given  has  expired. 


MONEY 
CONSIDERATION 


Chattel  Mortgage,  with  Power  of  Sale. 

KNOW  Aw,  MEN  BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  That  I,  B.  B.  Beardsley,  of  the  City  of  Louisville, 
State  of  Kentucky,  in  consideration  of  five  hundred  dollars  to  me  paid  by  Gall  Barnum,  of  the 
City  and  State  aforesaid,  the  receipt  of  which  is  hereby  acknowledged,  do  hereby  grant,  bargain, 
and  sell  unto  the  said  Gall  Barnum,  and  his  assigns,  forever,  the  following  goods  and  chat 
tels,  to  wit : 

\Here  insert  an  accurate  list  of  the  articles  mortgaged)  giving  a  full  description  of 'tack .] 


426 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


QRANTOR'S 
RIGHT 


;••  CASE  OF 

0. fAULT 


To  HAVE  AND  TO  Hou>,  All  and  singular,  the  said  goods  and  chattels  unto  the  mortgagee 
herein,  and  his  assigns,  to  their  sole  use  and  behoof  forever.  And  the  mortgagor  herein,  for 
himself  and  for  his  heirs,  executors,  and  administrators,  does  hereby  covenant  to  and  with 
the  said  mortgagee  and  his  assigns,  the  said  mortgagor  is  lawfully  possessed  of  the  said  goods  and 
chattels,  as  of  his  own  property ;  that  the  same  are  free  from  all  incumbrances,  and  that  he  will 
warrant  and  defend  the  same  to  him,  the  said  mortgagee  and  his  assigns,  against  the  lawful 
claims  and  demands  of  all  persons. 

PROVIDED,  NEVERTHELESS,  That  if  the  said  mortgagor  shall  pay  to  the  mortgagee,  on  the 
tenth  day  of  May,  in  the  year  189  ,  the  sum  of  five  hundred  dollars,  then  this  mortgage  is  to  1« 
void,  otherwise  to  remain  in  full  force  and  effect. 

AND  PROVIDED  FURTHER,  That  until  default  be  made  by  the  said  mortgagor  in  the  pcnorm- 
ance  of  the  condition  aforesaid,  it  shall  and  may  be  lawful  for  him  to  retain  the  possession  of  the 
said  goods  and  chattels,  and  to  use  and  enjoy  the  same  ;  but  if  the  same  or  any  part  thereof  shall 
be  attached  or  claimed  by  any  other  person  or  persons  at  any  time  before  payment,  or  the  said 
mortgagor,  or  any  person  or  persons  whatever,  upon  any  pretence,  shall  attempt  to  carry 
off,  conceal,  make  way  with,  sell,  or  in  any  manner  dispose  of  the  same  or  any  part  thereof, 
without  the  authority  and  permission  of  the  said  mortgagee,  or  his  executors,  administrators,  or 
assigns,  in  writing  expressed,  then  it  shall  and  may  be  la  -ful  for  the  said  mortgagee,  with  or 
without  assistance,  or  his  agent  or  attorney,  or  his  executors,  administrators,  or  assigns,  to  take 
possession  of  said  goods  and  chattels,  by  entering  upon  any  premises  wherever  the  same  may  be, 
whether  in  this  County  or  State,  or  elsewhere,  to  and  for  the  use  of  said  mortgagee  or  his  assigns. 
And  if  the  moneys  hereby  secured,  or  the  matters  to  be  done  or  performed,  as  above  specified, 
are  not  duly  paid,  done  or  performed  at  the  time  and  according  to  the  conditions  above  set 
forth,  then  the  said  mortgagee,  or  his  attorney  or  agent,  or  his  executors,  administrators,  or 
assigns,  may  by  virtue  hereof,  and  without  any  suit  or  process,  immediately  enter  and  take  pos 
session  of  said  goods  and  chattels,  and  sell  and  dispose  of  the  same  at  public  or  private  sale,  and 
after  satisfying  the  amount  due,  and  all  expenses,  the  surplus,  if  any  remain,  shall  be  paid  over 
to  said  mortgagor  or  his  assigns.  The  exhibition  of  this  mortgage  shall  be  sufficient  proof  that 
any  person  claiming  to  act  for  the  mortgagee  is  duly  made,  constituted  and  appointed  agent  and 
attorney  to  do  whatever  is  above  authorized. 

WITNESS  WHEREOF,  The  said  mortgagor  has  hereunto  set  his  hand  and  seal  this  tenth  d?v 
»f  May,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  189  . 

B.  B.  BEARDSLEY.     [SBAI,."/ 
Sealed  and  delivered  in  presence  of 


STATE  of  KENTUCKY, 

JEFFERSON  COUNTY 


WIWJAM  FRYE,  "I 
E.  R.  JOHNSON.  / 

Y,  -> 

r- 


This  mortgage  was  acknowledged  before  me  b>  B.  B.  Beardsley,  this  tenth  day  of  May? 

A.  D.  189  . 

JOHN  POLK,  7    o 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


Rights  and  Duties  of  Landlords  and  Tenants. 


LARGE  part  of  the  business  of  our 
civil  courts  would  cease  if  those 
who  lease  property  and  those  who 
lire  it  had  clear  and  definite  legal  forms  to 
follow.  These  would  enable  them  to  come 
to  a  perfect,  mutual  understanding,  and  pre 
vent  a  vast  amount  of  litigation  which  now 
results  from  mere  verbal  agreements,  and  a 
foilure  of  the  parties  to  understand  their 
mutual  rights  and  obligations. 

A  landlord  is  the  owner  of  real  estate  who 
hires  or  lets  his  property  to  another  person 
for  a  valuable  consideration.  The  person 
who  occupies  rented  property  is  called  the 
tenant.  The  agreement  between  the  land 
lord  and  the  tenant  stating  the  terms  upon 
which  the  latter  occupies  the  property  is 
called;  the  lease.  The  person  granting  the 
lease  is  called  in  Ia\v  the  lessor ;  the  person 
to  whom  the  lease  is  made  is  known  as  the 

'essee. 

Written  Leases. 

Leases  should  be  written.  No  particular 
form  of  words  is  essential,  but  the  lease 
should  state  in  the  clearest  manner  the  terms 
and  conditions  of  the  agreement,  so  that 
nothing  may  be  left  to  dispute  between  the 
landlord  and  tenant.  The  law  does  not 
recognize  verbal  promises  as  binding. 
Therefore  the  lease  must  state  explicitly 
>C.\  the  covenants  between  the  parties. 

No  matter  how  bad  the  condition  of  a 
house,  the  landlord  is  under  no  legal  obliga 
tion  to  make  the  necessary  repairs  unless  he 
pees  fit  to  do  so.  The  lease  should  therefore 
contain  a  clause  providing  for  the  necessary 
repairs. 


Under  an  ordinary  lease,  should  the  house; 
be  destroyed  by  fire  the  tenant  must  continue 
to  pay  the  rent,  because  the  law  looks  upon 
the  land  as  the  principal  thing  leased,  and 
the  house  as  merely  secondary.  So  also,  if 
the  tenant  agrees  to  "return  and  redeliver 
the  house  at  the  end  of  the  term,  in  good 
order  and  condition,  reasonable  wear  and 
tear  excepted,"  he  is  bound  by  this  agree 
ment  to  rebuild  the  house  should  it  be 
destroyed  by  fire.  At  present  all  well- 
drawn  leases  provide  that  the  rent  shall 
cease  in  case  the  house  shall  be  destroyed 
or  rendered  uninhabitable  by  fire  or  any 
other  unavoidable  calamity.  A  similar 
clause  is  also  inserted  with  regard  to  the 
return  of  the  house.  Such  a  clause  in  a 
lease  relieves  the  tenant  of  the  obligation  to 
rebuild  the  house,  even  though  it  should  be 
burned  through  his  own  carelessness  or  that 
of  his  servants. 

Sub-letting. 

Where  the  landlord  desires  to  prevent  his 
tenant  from  sub-letting  a  part  or  the  whole 
of  the  premises,  he  must  provide  for  it  in 
the  lease.  A  person  holding  a  lease  which 
does  not  contain  this  prohibition  can  sub-let 
at  his  pleasure. 

The  lease  should  definitely  state  the  period 
for  which  it  is  given.  If  no  time  is  specified,, 
the  tenant  can  hold  the  property  for  one 
year,  but  no  longer.  A  tenant-at-will  can-' 
not  vacate  the  property  without  giving 
notice  of  his  intention,  nor  can  he  be  put 
out  without  being  given  notice  of  the  land 
lord's  desire  to  regain  possession  of  the 
property.  The  laws  in  the  various  States 

427 


428 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


Are  quite  uniic:~a  as  to  the  time  of  notice 
required.  If  the  rent  be  payable  quarterly, 
three  months'  notice  must  be  given.  If  it 
be  payable  at  more  frequent  periods,  then 
the  notice  must  equal  in  length  the  period 
of  the  payment.  If  the  rent  is  payable 
monthly,  a  month's  notice  is  sufficient;  if 
weekly,  a  week's  notice  will  answer. 

A  lease  given  for  a  specified  time,  as  one 
year,  expires  at  the  end  of  that  time,  and 
the  tenant  may  leave  without  giving  notice, 
or  the  landlord  may  put  him  out  without 
notice. 

A  lease  should  be  recorded,  whether  the 
law  requires  it  or  not.  Such  record  binds  a 
subsequent  purchaser  of  the  property  to 
assume  all  the  obligations  of  the  former 
landlord  as  expressed  in  the  lease. 

A  lease  should  be  drawn  in  duplicate,  and 
each  party  to  it  should  retain  a  copy. 

Damages. 

Where  a  tenant  is  induced  through  the 
wilful  misrepresentations  of  a  landlord  to 
lease  property,  and  thereby  suffers  loss  or 
inconvenience,  he  can  deduct  the  amount 
of  his  damages  from  the  rent,  and  the  land 
lord  is  bound  to  bear  the  loss. 

A  landlord,  in  accepting  a  new  tenant  in 
place  of  the  original  holder  of  the  lease, 
cancels  by  this  act  the  original  lease. 

Repairs. 

A  tenant  is  not  bound  to  make  repairs 
unless  he  agrees  to  do  so.  The  landlord 
can,  however,  require  him  to  keep  the  roof 
and  windows  in  good  order,  so  as  to  protect 
the  house  from  injury  by  rain. 

A  tenant  is  not  bound  to  pay  the  taxes  on 
the  property  he  occupies  unless  he  expressly 
agrees  to  do  so. 

In  case  a  lease  contains  a  clause  forbidding 
the  tenant  to  sub-let  the  property,  and  the 
tenant,  in  spite  of  this,  does  sub-let  it,  the 
landlord  may  either  hold  the  tenant  for  the 


rent  and  for  such  damages  as  he  may  sustain 
by  such  sub-letting,  or  he  may  enter  upon 
the  property  and  take  possession  of  it,  and 
terminate  the  lease.  He  may  avail  himself 
of  either  remedy,  but  not  of  both. 

Notice  to  Quit. 

When  the  rent  is  in  arrear,  a  brief  notice 
to  quit  may  be  given.  The  average  period 
in  the  several  States  is  fourteen  days.  It 
must  specify  the  day  on  which  the  tenant 
must  leave. 

A  tenant  of  a  farm  is  bound  to  cultivate 
the  land  in  the  ordinary  way  required  bv 
good  and  careful  husbandry  and  the  custom 
of  the  neighborhood  in  which  the  farm  is 
located.  Any  departure  from  such  customs 
should  be  stipulated  for  in  the  lease. 

If  the  lease  of  a  farm  is  terminated  by  any 
event  which  the  tenant  could  not  foresee  or 
control,  he  is  entitled  to  the  annual  crop 
which  he  sowed  while  the  lease  was  run 
ning. 

Should  the  tenant  purchase  the  property 
before  the  expiration  of  the  lease,  such  pur 
chase  terminates  the  lease,  as  it  vests  him 
with  all  the  former  owner's  rights^ 
Tenant's  Responsibility. 

A  tenant  is  responsible  for  any  injury  a 
stranger  may  sustain  by  reason  of  his  failure 
to  keep  the  premises  in  good  condition ;  as, 
by  not  keeping  the  covers  of  his  vaults  suf 
ficiently  closed,  so  that  a  person  walking  in 
the  street  falls  through  or  is  injured  thereby. 
If  he  repairs  or  improves  the  building,  he 
must  make  such  provision  as  will  ensure  the 
safety  of  the  passers-by,  or  he  is  responsible 
for  such  injuries  as  they  may  suffer  in  con 
sequence  of  his  neglect. 

Should  a  person  lease  a  house  and  use  it 
for  immoral  purposes,  he  forfeits  the  lease  by 
such  act 

All  improvements  of  a  permanent  char 
acter  made  bv  the  tenant  upon  property 


RIGHTS  AND  DUTIES  OF  LANDLORDS  AND  TENANTS. 


429 


teased  by  him  become  the  property  of  the 
landlord,  and  cannot  be  removed.  Fences, 
out-houses,  etc.,  are  regarded  as  belonging  to 
the  land,  no  matter  who  puts  them  there. 
There  are  things,  however,  that  a  tenant  can 
add,  and  afterwards  remove.  The  general 
rule  is  that  the  tenant  may  remove  whatever 
lie  has  placed  upon  the  property  that  can  be 


DATE 

SITUATION  OF 
PROPERTY 

AMOUNT  OF 
RENTAL 

RETURN  OF 
POSSESSION 


DATE 


SITUATION  OF 
.""^OPERTY 


RENTAL  AND 
PAYMENTS 


VACATION  OF 
PROPERTY 


PENALTIES 


COVENANT  NOT 
TO  SUBLET 


taken  away,  leaving  the  premises  in  as  good 
condition  as  when  he  received  them.  Among 
these  are  ornamental  chimney-pieces,  coffee 
mills,  cornices  screwed  on,  furnaces,  fire- 
frames,  stoves,  iron  backs  to  chimneys,  look* 
ing-glasses,  pumps,  gates,  rails  and  posts, 
out-buildings  set  on  blocks  and  not  fixed  in 
the  ground. 

Short  Form  of  Lease  for  a  House. 

THIS  INSTRUMENT,  made  the  first  day  of  May,  189  ,  witnesseth,  that  Philander  Barr,  of  Ashe- 
ville,  County  of  Buncombe,  State  of  North  Carolina,  hath  rented  from  D.  S.  Allen,  of  Asheville 
aforesaid,  the  dwelling  and  lot  No.  50  Broadway,  situated  in  said  town  of  Asheville,  for  four 
years  from  the  above  date,  at  the  yearly  rental  of  two  hundred  and  forty  dollars  payable  monthly, 
on  the  first  day  of  each  month,  in  advance,  at  the  residence  of  said  D.  S.  Allen. 

At  the  expiration  of  said  above  mentioned  term,  the  said  Barr  agrees  to  give  said  Allen 
peaceable  possession  of  the  said  dwelling,  in  as  good  condition  as  when  taken,  ordinary  wear 
and  casualties  excepted. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  we  place  our  hands  and  seals  the  day  and  year  aforesaid. 
Signed,  sealed,  and  delivered  in  presence  of  ^ 

JABEZRAXDAI/,  PHILANDER  BARR.     [r,  s.] 

Notary  Public.)  D.S.ALLEN,  [i,.  s.] 

Lease  of  Dwelling  House  for  a  Term  of  Tears,  with  a  Covenant  not  to  Sub-let. 

THIS  INDENTURE,  made  this  first  day  of  May,  189  ,  between  Meeleg  Foster,  of  Oxford, 
County  of  Benton,  and  State  of  Alabama,  party  of  the  first  part,  and  Elam  H.  Annis,  of  the  same 
town,  county,  and  state,  party  of  the  second  part, 

WiTNESSETH,  That  the  said  party  of  the  first  part,  in  consideration  of  the  covenants  of  the 
said  party  of  the  second  part,  hereinafter  set  forth,  does  by  these  presents  lease  to  the  said  party 
of  the  second  part  the  following  described  property,  to  wit :  The  dwelling  house  and  certain 
parcel  of  land,  situated  on  the  south  side  of  Main  street,  between  Spring  and  Elm  streets,  known 
as  No.  76  Main  street. 

To  have  and  to  hold  the  same  to  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  from  the  first  day  of  May, 
189  ,  to  the  thirtieth  day  of  April,  189  .  And  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  in  consideration 
of  the  leasing  the  premises  as  above  set  forth,  covenants  and  agrees  with  the  party  of  the  first 
part,  to  pay  the  said  party  of  the  first  part,  as  rent  for  the  same,  the  sum  of  one  hundred  and 
eighty  dollars  per  annum,  payable  quarterly  in  advance,  at  the  residence  of  said  party  of  the  first 
part,  or  at  his  place  of  business. 

The  said  party  of  the  second  part  further  covenants  with  the  party  of  the  first  part,  that  at 
the  expiration  of  the  time  mentioned  in  this  lease,  peaceable  possession  of  the  said  premises  shall 
be  given  to  said  party  of  the  first  part,  in  as  good  condition  as  they  now  are,  the  usual  wear,  in 
evitable  accidents,  and  loss  by  fire,  excepted  ;  and  that  upon  the  non-payment  of  the  whole  or 
any  portion  of  the  said  rent  at  the  time  when  the  same  is  above  promised  to  be  paid,  the  said 
party  of  the  first  part  may,  at  his  election,  either  distrain  for  said  rent  due,  or  declare  this  lease 
at  an  end,  and  recover  possession  as  if  the  same  were  held  by  forcible  detainer  ;  the  said  party 
of  the  second  part  hereby  waiving  any  notice  of  such  election,  or  any  demand  for  the  possession 
of  such  premises. 

And  it  is  further  covenanted  and  agreed,  between  the  parties  aforesaid,  that  said  Elam  H. 
Annis  shall  use  the  above  mentioned  dwelling  for  residence  purposes  only,  and  shall  not  sub-let 
any  portion  of  the  same  to  others,  without  permission  from  said  Meeleg  Foster. 

The  covenants  herein  shall  extend  to  and  be  binding  upon  the  heirs,  executors,  and  admin 
istrators  of  the  parties  to  this  lease. 

Witness  the  hands  and  seals  of  the  parties  aforesaid. 

MEELEG  FOSTER,     [r,.  s.] 
ELAM  H.  ANNIS.        [i,.  s.] 


430 


DATE 


PROPERTY 
DESCRIBED 


CENTAL  AND 
PAYMENTS 


AGREEMENT 
TO  VACATE 


FORFEIT 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 
Form  of  Lease  Generally  Used  in  the  Western  States. 

THIS  INDENTURE,  Made  this  first  day  of  May,  189  ,  between  G.  C.  Cox,  of  the  City  of  Rich 
mond,  State  of  Indiana,  party  of  the  first  part,  and  N.  D.  Sperry,  of  the  city  and  state  aforesaid, 

WiTNESSETH,  That  the  said  party  of  the  first  part,  in  consideration  of  the  covenants  of  the 
said  party  of  the  second  part,  hereinafter  set  forth,  do  by  these  presents  lease  to  the  said  party 
of  the  second  part  the  following  described  property,  to  wit :  The  brick  dwelling  and  certain 
parcel  of  land,  situated  on  the  south  side  of  Church  street,  between  Ninth  and  Tenth  streets,  and 
known  as  No.  920  Church  street. 

To  HAVE  AND  to  HOI,D  the  same  to  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  from  the  first  day  of 
May,  189  ,  to  the  first  day  of  May,  189  .  And  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  in  considera 
tion  of  the  leasing  the  premises  as  above  set  forth,  covenants  and  agrees  with  the  party  of  the 
first  part  to  pay  the  said  party  of  the  first  part,  as  rent  for  the  same,  the  sum  of  six  hundred 
dollars,  payable  as  follows,  to  wit :  in  equal  sums  of  fifty  dollars  on  the  first  day  of  each  and 
every  month,  payable  at  the  residence  or  place  of  business  of  the  said  party  of  the  first  part. 

The  said  party  of  the  second  part  further  covenants  with  the  said  party  of  the  first  part,  that 
at  the  expiration  of  the  time  mentioned  in  this  lease,  peaceable  possession  of  the  said  premises 
shall  be  given  to  the  said  party  of  the  first  part,  in  as  good  condition  as  they  now  are,  the  usual 
wear,  inevitable  accidents,  and  loss  by  fire  excepted ;  and  that  upon  the  non-payment  of  the 
whole  or  any  portion  of  the  said  rent  at  the  time  when  the  same  is  above  promised  to  be  paid, 
the  said  party  of  the  first  part  may,  at  his  election,  either  distrain  for  said  rent  due,  or  declare 
this  lease  at  an  end,  and  recover  possession  as  if  the  same  was  held  by  forcible  detainer  ;  the 
said  party  of  the  second  part  hereby  waiving  any  notice  of  such  election,  or  any  demand  for  the 
possession  of  said  premises. 

The  covenants  herein  shall  extend  to  and  be  binding  upon  the  heirs,  executors,  a«u* 
administrators  of  the  parties  to  this  lease. 

Witness  the  hands  and  seals  of  the  parties  aforesaid. 

G.  C.  COX.  [SEA*,.] 

Sealed  and  delivered  in  presence  of  N.  D.  SPERRY.     [SEAI,.] 

YOUNG  AMBLER,     •» 
DAVID  BRICKDUST.  } 

Form  of  Lease  of  a  Farm  and  Building*. 

THIS  AGREEMENT,  Made  this  first  day  of  January,  189  ,  between  Peleg  Ross,  of  Shawnee 
County,  State  of  Kansas,  party  of  the  first  part,  and  O.  B.  Scott,  of  the  county  and  State  afore 
said,  party  of  the  second  part, 

WiTNESSETH,  That  the  said  Peleg  Ross  lets,  and  the  said  O.  B.  Scott  agrees  to  take  and  hold 
of  him  as  tenant  all  that  parcel  of  land,  with  the  buildings  and  improvements  appertaining  and 
belonging  to  it,  situate— 

[Here  insert  an  accurate  and  careful  description  of  the  property  I\ 

From  the  first  day  of  February  next  ensuing,  upon  the  terms  following,  that  is  to  say ; 

Said  tenant  shall  be  deemed  a  tenant  from  year  to  year ; 

That  said  tenant  enter  and  take  possession  of  said  premises  on  the  first  day  of  February  next; 

That  either  party  may  determine  the  tenancy  by  a  notice  in  writing,  three  months  before 
the  expiration  of  any  year  from  the  first  day  of  February  next  preceding ; 

That  said  tenant  shall  go  out  of  possession  at  the  expiration  or  determination  of  his  term  ; 

That  the  rent  of  said  premises  shall  be  five  hundred  dollars  per  annum,  payable  in  half 
yearly  payments  on,  etc.,  and  on,  etc.,  without  deduction  on  account  of  any  tax  or  assessment 
now  in  existence  or  hereafter  to  be  imposed,  except,  etc.,  which  is  to  be  paid  by  the  said  O.  B. 
Scott; 

REPAIRS  That  the  said  tenant  agrees  to  cause  the  following  repairs  to  be  made,  viz. ,  [ffere  state  the 

repairs  agreed 'upon ,]  and  to  keep  the  buildings  in  tenantable  repair ; 

That  said  tenant  agrees  to  keep  the  gates  and  fences  in  good  repair,  said  tenant  finding 
rough  timber  or  fencing  stuff; 

TENANT'S  RIGHTS         That  said  tenant  shall  not  lop  or  cut  any  oak,  etc.,  on  the  estate,  except  such  as  have  usually 
AND  LIMITATIONS  been  lopped,  and  those  only  to  be  used  for  making  and  repairing  the  fences  to  the  estate,  etc.  ; 


DATE 


SITUATION  OF 
PROPERTY 


TERMS 


RIGHTS  AND  DUTIES  Of   LANDLORDS  AND   TENANTS. 


431 


COMPENSATION 
TOR  IMPROVE 
MENTS 


That  said  tenant  shall  not  mow  any  grass  or  meadow  land  above  once  in  any  one  year  of  his 
tenancy,  and  if  he  breaks  up  any  old  meadow  or  old  pasture  land;,  unless  with  the  said  landlord's 
consent,  in  writing,  then  he  shall  pay  the  further  yearly  rent  of  three  dollars  for  every  acre  so 
broken  up,  and  after  that  rate  for  any  part  of  an  acre  ; 

That  said  tenant  may  crop  the  r.rable  land  in  each  year  as  follows,  viz. .  one  equal  third 
part  thereof  with  wheat  or  barley,  one  ether  equal  third  part  with  beans,  peas,  clover,  or  oats, 
etc.,  and  the  remaining  third  part  to  lie  in  fallow ; 

That  said  land  shall  not  be  cropped  with  wheat  twice,  or  barley  twice,  in  any  period  oi 
tiiiree  years ; 

That  said  tenant  shall  use  and  consume  on  the  farm  all  hay  and  straw  made  and  grown 
thereon ; 

That  said  tenant  shall  use  and  spread  dung  and  manure  arising  or  made  on  the  farm,  in  such 
manner  as  that  every  acre  in  tillage  of  the  farm  aforesaid  may  be  well  manured  once  in  every 
three  years  of  his  tenancy.  Except  that  all  hay  and  wheat  straw  on  the  farm  unconsumed  at 
the  expiration  of  the  tenancy  may  be  purchased  by  the  landlord  or  succeeding  tenant,  at  a  fair 
valuation  by  two  indifferent  persons,  one  to  be  named  by  each  party  ; 

That  said  tenant  shall  leave  on  the  premises:  without  compensation,  not  only  all  lent  and 
white  straw  arising  upon  or  from  the  premises,  and  remaining  unconsumed  thereon  at  the  expi 
ration  of  his  tenancy,  but  also  all  dung  and  manure  arising  or  made  on  the  farm,  and  then 
remaining  unconsumed ; 

That  said  tenant  shall  keep  clean,  by  well  hoeing,  twice  at  the  least,  and  weeding  all  the  la«d 
whilst  cropped  with  beans,  peas,  clover,  etc. ; 

That  said  tenant  shall  endeavor  to  prevent  any  injury  by  persons,  cattle,  or  sheep,  to  any  of 
the  hedges,  or  trees,  or  fences,  and  to  preserve  the  same,  and  not  to  do  any  injury  to  any  timbej 
or  other  trees,  in  taking  such  loppings,  as  before  allowed  to  him  ; 

That  said  tenant  shall  not  crop  or  sow  any  of  the  land  with  rape,  flax,  hemp,  etc. 

That  said  tenant  shall  not  underlet  or  assign  the  premises  or  a»v  part  thereof,  except,  etc. 

That  said  tenant  on  quitting  the  farm  shall  receive  such  pecuniary  compensation  for  improve 
ments  in  fencing,  etc.,  as  two  arbitrators  (one  of  which  arbitrators  shall  be  nominated  by  each 
party,  and  if  either  neglect  to  nominate  his  arbitrator,  the  other  party  may  nominate  both  arbi 
trators)  shall  award,  which  arbitrators  shall  abate  according  to  the  benefit  derived  by  the  tenant 
from  such  repairs,  improvements,  and  additions,  and  take  into  consideration  how  far,  at  the. 
expiration  of  the  tenancy,  they  may  be  beneficial  to  the  estate. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  The  said  parties  have  hereunto  set  their  hands  and  seals  the  day  and 
year  first  above  written.  PELEG  ROSS.  [SEAI,.] 

Sealed  and  delivered  in  presence  of  O.  B.  SCOTT.      [SEAI,.] 

REUBEN  DAY,  •> 
A.  Y.  BEACH,  j 


.'CATION  OF 
•OUSE 


rENANT'S 
JGREEMENT 


Landlord's  -Certificate. 

THIS  IS  TO  CERTIFY,  That  I  have  this  first  day  of  March,  189  ,  let  and  rented  unto  Wayne 
Roy,  my  house  and  lot  known  as  Number  125,  in  East  Twentieth  street,  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
New  York,  with  the  appurtenances,  and  sole  and  uninterrupted  use  thereof,  for  one  year,  to 
commence  on  the  first  day  of  April  next,  at  the  yearly  rent  of  eighteen  hundred  dollars,  payable 
in  equal  sums  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  on  the  first  day  of  each  and  every  month. 

CORNELIUS  VANDERBII/T. 

Tenant's  Certificate. 

THIS  IS  TO  CERTIFY,  That  I,  Wayne  Roy,  have  hired  and  taken  from  Cornelius  Vanderbilt 
his  house  and  lot,  known  as  Number  125,  in  East  Twentieth  street,  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
with  the  appurtenances  thereof,  for  the  term  of  one  year,  to  commence  on  the  first  day  of  April 
next,  at  the  yearly  rent  of  eighteen  hundred  dollars,  payable  in  equal  sums  on  the  first  of  each 
and  every  month. 

And  I  do  hereby  promise  to  make  punctual  payment  of  the  rent  in  manner  aforesaid,  except 
in  case  the  premises  become  untenantable  from  fire  or  any  other  cause,  when  the  rent  is  to  cease; 

* 


432  BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 

Ami  I  do  further  promise  to  quit  and  surrender  the  premises  at  the  eviration  of  the  term  in 
as  igood  state  and  condition  as  reasonable  use  and  wear  thereof  will  permit,  damages  by  the 
elements  excepted. 

Given  under  my  hand  this  first  day  of  March,  189  . 

WAYNE  ROY. 
In  presence  of 

W.  W.  NORTHROP,  1 

A.  S.  HATHAWAY.  J 

Landlord's  Certificate— Fuller  Form. 

THIS  IS  TO  CERTIFY,  That  I,  the  undersigned,  have,  this  first  day  of  March,  let  and  rented 

PHt   PREMISED 

to  R.  O.  L,~e  the  following  premises,  situated  in  Wheeling,  in  Ohio  county,  and  State  <*>f  West 
Virginia,  to  wit :  that  certain  brick  dwelling  and  lot  of  ground  known  as  Number  529,  in  East 
Twentieth  street,  in  the  city  of  Wheeling,  together  with  the  appurtenances,  and  the  sole  and 
uninterrupted  use  and  occupation  thereof: 

For  a  term  of  one  year,  from  the  first  day  of  April  next,  at  the  annual  rent  of  three  hundred 

ANNUAL  RENTAL      ,    ..  ...  ,  r  ,  -          -    .,  ..        -      ,    ,  - 

dollars,  payable  in  equal  sums  of  twenty-five  collars  on  the  first  day  of  every  month. 

And  said  tenant  has  agreed  to  make  punctual  payment  of  the  rent  in  the  manner  aforesaid, 
except  in  case  the  premises  become  untenantable,  from  fire  or  any  other  cause,  when  the  rent  is 
to  cease ;  to  quit  and  surrender  the  premises  at  the  expiration  of  said  term,  in  as  good  a  condition 
as  reasonable  use  and  wear  thereof  will  permit,  damages  by  the  elements  excepted.  And  not  use 
or  occupy  said  premises  in  any  business  deemed  extra-hazardous  on  account  of  fire  or  otherwise, 
nor  let  or  underlet  the  same,  except  with  the  consent  of  said  landlord,  in  writing,  under  penalty 
of  forfeiture  and  damages.  And  has  mortgaged  and  pledged  all  the  personal  property  of  what 
kind  soever  which  he  snail  at  any  time  have  on  said  premises,  whether  exempt  by  law  from 
distress  for  rent,  or  sale  under  execution,  or  not,  waiving  the  benefits  of  and  from  the  exemption, 
valuation  and  appraisement  laws  of  said  State  to  secure  the  payment  thereof. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  He  has  hereunto  set  his  hand  and  seal  this  first  day  of  March,  A.  D, 
!8g  .  FREDERICK  "ASCO.  [SEAL,.] 

Sealed  and  delivered  in  presence  of 

JOHN  DIX.TB,  ") 
POPE  Foss.    I 

Tenant's  Certificate— Fuller  Form. 

THIS  IS  To  CERTIFY,  That  I,  the  undersigned,  have  hired  and  taken  from  Frederick  Pasco 

THE  PREMIES  tlie  following  premises,  situated  in  Wheeling,  Ohio  county,  State  of  West  Virginia,  to  wit:  that 
certain  brick  dwelling  and  lot  of  ground  known  as  Number  529,  in  East  Twentieth  street,  in  the 
city  of  Wheeling, 

For  a  term  of  one  year,  from  the  first  day  of  April,  A.  D.  189  ,  at  the  rate  of  three  hundred 
4.NNUAL  RENTAL  ^Ouar3)  payable  in  equal  sums  of  twenty-five  dollars  on  the  first  day  of  each  and  every  month. 
And  I  do  hereby  agree  to  make  punctual  payment  of  the  rent  in  the  manner  aforesaid,  except 
PAYMENTS  in  case  the  premises  become  untenantable,  from  fire  or  any  other  cause,  when  the  rent  is  to  cease ; 

AND  FINAL  to  quit  and  surrender  the  premises  at  the  expiration  of  said  term,  in  as  good  a  condition  as 

reasonable  use  and  wear  thereof  will  permit,  damages  by  the  elements  excepted.  And  not  use  or 
occupy  said  premises  in  any  business  deemed  extra-hazardous  on  account  of  fire  or  otherwise,  nor 
let  or  underlet  the  same,  except  with  the  consent  of  said  landlord,  in  writing,  under  penalty  of 
forfeiture  and  damages.  And  do  mortgage  and  pledge  all  the  personal  property  of  what  kind 
soever  which  he  shall  at  any  time  have  on  said  premises,  whether  exempt  by  law  from  distress 
for  rent,  or  sale  under  execution,  or  not,  waiving  the  benefits  of  and  from  tbe  exemption,  valua 
tion  and  appraisement  laws  of  said  State  to  secure  the  payment  thereof. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  He  has  hereunto  set  his  hand  and  seal  this  first  day  of  March,  A.  D, 
189  .  R.  O.  LEE.  [SEAI..J 

Sealed  and  delivered  in  presence  of 

JOHN  DIXIE, 
POPE  Foss. 


TIME  ALLOWED 
FOR  VACATING 
PREMISES 


DATE  OF 
EXPIRATK3N 
Of   LEASE 


TERMINATION 
OF  TENANCY 


PREMISES  TO 
~c.  VACATED 


RIGHTS  AND  DUTIES  OF  LANDLORDS  AND  TENANTS. 
Landlord's  Notice  to  Quit  for  Non-payment  of  Rent. 


433 


STATE  of  WEST  VIRGINIA,  -> 

CITY  OF  WHEELING.  J  **' 

September  ist,  189  . 
To  R.  O.  I/EE  : 

You  being  in  possession  of  the  following  described  premises,  which  you  occupy  as  my  ten 
ant,  namely,  that  certain  brick  dwelling  and  lot  of  ground  known  as  Number  529,  in  East 
Twentieth  street,  in  the  City  of  Wheeling,  County  of  Ohio,  State  of  West  Virginia,  aforesaid,  are 
hereby  notified  to  quit  and  deliver  up  to  me  the  premises  aforesaid,  in  fourteen  days  from  this 
date,  according  to  law,  your  rent  being  due  and  unpaid.  Hereof  fail  not,  or  I  shall  take  a  due 
course  of  law  to  eject  ou  from  the  same. 

FREDERICK  PASCO. 
Witness : 

HENRY  COLE. 

Landlord's  Notice  to  a  Tenant  to  Quit  at  the  End  of  the  Term. 

To  R.  O.  LEE  : 

SIR. — Being  in  the  possession  of  a  certain  messuage  or  tenement,  with  the  appurtenances, 
situate  in  the  City  of  Wheeling,  and  known  as  Number  529,  in  East  Twentieth  street,  in  said 
city,  which  said  premises  were  demised  to  you  by  me  for  a  certain  term,  to  wit,  from  the  first 
day  of  April,  A.  D.  189  ,  until  the  first  day  of  April,  A.  D.  189  ,  and  which  said  term  will  term 
inate  and  expire  on  the  day  and  year  last  aforesaid,  I  hereby  give  you  notice,  that  it  is  my  desire 
to  have  again  and  re-possess  the  said  messuage  or  tenement,  with  the  appurtenances,  and  I  there 
fore  do  hereby  require  you  to  leave  the  same  upon  the  expiration  of  the  said  hereinbefore  men 
tioned  term. 

Witness  my  hand  this  first  day  of  March,  City  of  Wheeling,  A.  D.  189  . 

FREDERICK  PASCO. 
Witness : 

HENRY  COLE. 

Landlord's  Notice  to  Determine  a  Tenancy  at  Will. 

STATE  OF  PENNSYLVANIA,  -> 

COUNTY  OF  CHESTER.        J I 

WEST  CHESTER,  PA.  ,  March  ist,  189  . 
To  LEMAN  CARR  : 

SIR. — You  being  in  possession  «f  the  following  described  premises,  which  you  occupy  as  my 
tenant  at  will,  known  as  Number  565,  in  Mulberry  street,  in  the  town  of  West  Chester,  are  here 
by  notified  to  quit  and  deliver  up  to  me  the  premises  aforesaid  on  the  first  day  of  April,  189  v 
according  to  law,  it  being  my  intention  to  determine  your  tenancy  at  will.  Hereof  fail  not,  at 
I  shall  take  a  due  course  of  law  to  eject  vou  from  the  same. 

H.  H.  TYRANNIS. 
Witness : 

DANIEL  LETTER . 

Form  of  a  Notice  to  Quit  by  a  Tenant. 

CHICAGO,  January  ist,  189  . 
Mr.  C.  H.  HATCHER: 

Please  to  take  notice,  that  on  the  first  day  of  March  next,  I  shall  quit  possession  aud  remov? 
from  the  premises  I  now  occupy,  known  as  house  and  lot  No.  57,  in  Front  street,  in  the  City 

of  Chicago. 

Yours,  etc., 

E.  L.  TAJ-CQTT. 
To  Mr.  C.  H.  HATCH  KR. 


28 


CHAPTER  x*:xvn. 


Agencies  and  Collection  of  Debts. 


CONSIDERABLE  part  of  every  kind 
of  business  is  doue  through  agents, 
the  individual  or  the  firm  employing 
a  trusted  deputy.  This  system  extends  to 
nearly  all  kinds  of  commercial  transactions, 
and  is  regulated  by  laws  in  all  the  States. 

An  agent  is  a  person  who  is  employed  by 
another  to  represent  him  in  the  performance 
of  certain  acts. 

One  who  is  legally  incompetent  to  act  on 
his  own  account  may  be  an  agent  for  a  per 
son  who  is  competent.  Thus,  an  alien  or  a 
married  woman  may  act  as  an  agent. 

A  principal  is  responsible  for  the  acts  of 
his  agents  when  he,  by  his  acts  or  words, 
causes  the  person  with  whom  the  agent 
deals  to  believe  him  to  be  vested  with  lawful 
authority  to  perform  such  acts. 

A  person  authorized  to  perform  certain 
designated  acts  for  another  is  termed  a 
special  agent;  one  who  has  authority  to 
represent  his  principal  in  all  his  business, 
or  all  of  his  business  of  a  particular  kind, 
is  termed  a  general  agent. 


If  a  special  agent  exceeds  his  aucnority,] 
the  principal  is  not  bound  by  his  act,  because 
the  person  dealing  with  such  an  agent  is 
bound  to  inform  himself  of  the  extent  of 
such  agent's  powers.  In  the  case  of  a 
general  agent,  the  principal  is  bound  by  his 
acts,  even  though  he  exceed  his  authority,, 
provided  that  in  such  acts  he  does  not  go 
beyond  the  general  scope  of  his  business. 
If,  however,  the  person  with  whom  the 
agent  deals  does  so  with  the  knowledge 
that  the  agent  is  exceeding  his  powers,  he 
thereby  releases  the  principal. 

Authority  may  be  given  to  an  agent  either 
verbally  or  in  writing.  If  in  writing,  it  may 
be  either  under  or  without  seal.  If  given  by 
a  written  instrument,  this  instrument  is 
termed  a  Power  of  Attorney. 

A  power  of  attorney  intended  to  cover 
much  time  should  be  recorded  and  acknowl 
edged. 

The  person  granting  the  power  of  attorney 
is  termed  in  lav,  the  constituent ;  the  person 
receiving  it  is  called  the  attorney. 


:4AME  OF   PARTY 


OOWERS 

CRANTED 


Form  of  Power  of  Attorney  in  General  Use. 

KNOW  ALL  MEN  BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  That  I,  Gad  Hill,  of  the  city  of  St.  Louis,  State  of 
Missouri,  have  constituted,  ordained,  and  made,  and  in  my  stead  and  place  put,  and  by  these 
presents  do  constitute,  ordain,  and  make,  and  in  my  stead  and  place  put  Warren  North,  of  the 
city  of  Baltimore,  State  of  Maryland,  to  be  my  true,  sufficient,  and  lawful  attorney  for  me  and 
in  my  name  and  stead  to —  \Here  state  explicitly  the  things  the  attorney  is  to  do,  and  the  purposes  foi 
ivhick  the  power  is  given.~\ 

Giving  and  hereby  granting  unto  him,  the  said  attorney,  full  power  and  authority  in  and 
about  the  premises  ;  and  to  use  all  due  means,  course,  and  process  in  law,  for  the  full,  effectual, 
and  complete  execution  of  the  business  afore  described ;  and  in  my  name  to  make  and  execute 
due  acquittance  and  discharge  ;  and  for  the  premises  to  appear,  and  the  person  of  me  the  con< 
stituent  to  represent  before  any  governor,  judges,  justices,  officers,  and  ministers  of  the  law  what 
soever,  in  any  court  or  courts  of  judicature,  and  there,  on  my  behalf,  to  answer,  defend,  anc 
reply  unto  all  actions,  causes,  matters,  and  things  whatsoever  relating  to  the  premises. 


434 


AGENCIES  AND  COLLECTION  OF  DEBTS. 


PROVISION   FOR 
ARBITRATION 


435 


Also  to  submit  any  matter  in  dispute,  respecting  the  premises,  to  arbitration  or  otherwise, 
with  full  power  to  make  and  substitute,  for  the  purposes  aforesaid,  one  or  more  attorneys  undei 
him,  my  said  attorney,  and  the  same  again  at  pleasure  to  revoke.  And  generally  to  say,  do,  act, 
transact,  determine,  accomplish,  and  finish  all  matters  and  things  whatsoever  relating  to  the 
premises,  as  fully,  amply,  and  effectually,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  as  I,  Gad  Hill,  the  said 
constituent,  if  present,  ought  or  might  personally,  although  the  matter  should  require  more 
special  authority  than  is  herein  comprised,  I,  Gad  Hill,  the  said  constituent,  ratifying,  allowing, 
and  holding  firm  and  valid  all  whatsoever  my  said  attorney  or  his  substitutes  shall  lawfully  do, 
or  cause  to  be  done,  in  and  about  the  premises,  by  virtue  of  these  presents. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and  seal,  this  first  day  of  May,  in  th*» 
year  of  our  Lord  189  . 

GAD  HILL.     [SEAL.] 
Executed  and  delivered  in  presence  of 

B.  C.  VANCE, 
AARON  SMELTZ. 


Power  of  Substitution. 

KNOW  ALL  MEN  BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  That  I,  Moses  Veale,  by  virtue  of  the  power  and 
authority  to  me  given,  in  and  by  the  letter  of  attorney  of  J.  R.  Peck,  which  is  hereunto  annexed 
[or  it  may  be  described  without  being  annexed],  do  make,  substitute,  and  appoint  Ralph  Barnard,  as 
well  for  me  as  the  true  and  lawful  attorney  and  substitute  of  the  said  constituent  named  in  the 
said  letter  of  attorney,  to  do,  execute,  and  perform  all  and  everything  requisite  and  necessary  to 
be  done,  as  fully,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  as  the  said  constituent  or  I  myself  could  do  if  per 
sonally  present ;  hereby  ratifying  and  confirming  all  that  the  said  attorney  and  substitute  herebj 
made  shall  do  in  the  premises  by  virtue  hereof  and  of  the  said  letter  of  attorney. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and  seal  the  fifteenth  day  of  May 
A.  D.  189  . 

MOSES  VEALE.     [SEAL.] 
Sealed  and  delivered  in  presence  01 

ROBERT  SHERMAN,  \ 
PHILO  A.  CROWE.    ' 

Proxy,  or  Power  of  Attorney  to  Vote. 

POWER  TO  VOTE  KNOW  ALL  MEN  BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  That  I,  Walter  Black,  of  Omaha,  do  hereby  appoint 

S.  H.  Reed  to  be  my  substitute  and  proxy  for  me,  and  in  my  name  and  behalf  to  vote  at  any 
election  of  directors  or  other  officers,  and  at  any  meeting  of  the  stockholders  of  the  Baltimore  & 
Ohio  Railroad,  as  fully  as  I  might  or  could  were  I  personally  present. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and  seal,  this  fifth  day  of  February 
189. 

WALTER  BLACK.     [SEAL.] 
Witnesses  present, 

SAUL  LYONS,  \ 
P.  J.  FLEGG.  > 


LAWFUL 
ATTORNEY 


Power  of  Attorney  to  Collect  Debts. 

KNOW  ALL  MEN  BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  That  I,  John  Jay,  of  Pittsburgh,  PennsvKania, 
constituted,  ordained,  and  made,  and  in  my  stead  and  place  put,  and  by  these  presents  do  con 
stitute,  ordain,  and  make,  and  in  my  stead  and  place  put,  Peter  Lex,  of  Harrisburgh,  Pennsyl 
vania,  to  be  my  true,  sufficient,  and  lawful  attorney  for  me,  and  in  my  name  and  stead,  and  to 
my  use,  to  ask,  demand,  levy,  require,  recover,  and  receive  of  and  from  all  and  every  person  ot 
persons  whomsoever  the  same  shall  or  may  concern,  all  and  singular  sum  and  sums  of  money, 
debts,  goods,  wares,  merchandise,  effects,  and  things,  whatsoever  and  wheresoever  they  shall 
and  may  be  found  due,  owing,  payable,  belonging  and  coming  unto  me  the  constituent,  by  anj 
ways  and  means  whatsoever. 


436 


POWERS 

&ELESATED 


QWPUTES  TO  BE 
ARMTRATED 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 

GIVING  AND  HEREBY  GRANTING  unto  my  said  attorney  full  and  whole  strength,  power,  and 
authority  in  and  about  the  premises;  and  to  take  and  use  all  due  means,  course,  and  process  in 
the  law,  for  the  obtaining  and  recovering  the  same  ;  and  of  recoveries  and  receipts  thereof,  and 
in  my  name  to  make,  seal,  and  execute  due  acquittance  and  discharge  ;  and  for  the  premises  to 
appear,  and  the  person  of  me  the  constituent  to  represent  before  any  governor,  judges,  justices, 
officers  and  ministers  of  the  law  whatsoever,  in  any  court  or  courts  of  judicature,  and  there,  on 
my  behalf,  to  answer,  defend,  and  reply  unto  all  actions,  causes,  matters  and  things  whatsoever, 
relating  to  the  premises. 

Also  to  submit  any  matter  in  dispute  to  arbitration  or  otherwise,  with  full  power  to  make 
and  substitute  one  or  more  attorneys  and  my  said  attorney,  and  the  same  again  at  pleasure  to 
revoke.  And  generally  to  say,  do,  act,  transact,  determine,  accomplish,  and  finish,  all  matters 
and  things  whatsoever,  relating  to  the  premises,  as  fully,  amply,  and  effectually,  to  all  intents 
and  purposes,  as  I  the  said  constituent,  if  present,  ought  or  might  personally,  although  the 
matter  should  require  more  special  authority  than  is  herein  comprised,  I  the  said  constituent 
ratifying,  allowing,  and  holding  firm  and  valid,  all  and  whatsoever  my  said  attorney  or  his 
substitutes  shall  lawfully  do,  or  cause  to  be  done,  in  and  about  the  premises,  by  virtue  of  these 
presents. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and  seal,  this  first  day  of  January,  in 
the  year  of  our  Lord  189  . 

TOHN  JAY.     [SEAT,.] 
Signed,  sealed,  and  delivered  in  presence  of  us, 

LEANDER  PRICE,  1 
MYRON  A.  Siu,.  > 

OF  DEBTS. 

nowhere  else.  In  others,  the  law  grants  the 
creditor  a  larger  latitude.  It  is  not  possible 
to  state  here  the  laws  of  the  various  States 
upon  this  subject.  The  justice  before  whom 
the  suit  is  brought  will  give  the  information. 

Upon  receiving  a  claim  for  collection,  the 
justice  will  issue  a  summons  to  the  debtor, 
commanding  him  to  appear  at  his  court,  at 
a  stated  time,  and  answer  to  the  claim.  The 
summons  is  placed  in  the  hands  of  a  con 
stable,  who  delivers  it  to  or  "serves  it  upon" 
the  person  owing  the  debt.  If  he  cannot 
find  him,  or  if  the  debtor  hides  himself  to 
avoid  such  service,  the  constable  will  deliver 
the  summons  to  some  member  of  the  deb 
tor's  family,  who  must  be  ten  years  old,  or 
over  that  age.  He  must  then  make  a  report 
to  the  justice,  stating  to  whom  he  delivered 
the  summons,  and  the  circumstances  con 
nected  with  the  service. 

Settlement  without  Trial. 

Should  the  debtor  wish  to  settle  the  claim 
without  a  trial,  he  may  do  so,  the  justice 
giving  him  a  receipt  for  the  amount  of  the 


It  often  happens  that  great  difficulty  is 
experienced  in  the  effort  to  collect  debts 
justly  due.  Where  they  can  be  collected 
without  resorting  to  legal  measures,  it  is  bet 
ter  to  exhaust  all  means  of  securing  them, 
even  though  a  moderate  delay  should  result 
Should  it  become  necessary  to  seek  the  aid 
of  the  law,  however,  it  is  well  to  know  the 
exact  steps  that  should  be  taken. 

In  seeking  to  recover  debts  by  legal  pro 
cess,  the  creditor  should  first  ascertain  whe 
ther  the  debtor  has  enough  property,  real  or 
personal,  or  both,  over  and  above  the  amount 
exempted  by  law,  to  make  it  worth  his  while 
to  sue  him. 

,     Suits  for  small  amounts  must  be  brought 
before  justices  of  the  peace. 

Should  the  amount  be  within  the  juris 
diction  of  the  justice  of  the  peace,  the  cred 
itor's  first  step  is  to  place  the  claim  in  his 
hands  for  collection. 

Obtaining  a  Summons. 

In  some  of  the  States  a  debtor  must  be 
sued  in  the  town  in  which  he  resides,  and 


AGENCIES  AND  COLLECTION  OF  DEBTS. 


claim  and  the  costs  of  the  service  of  the  sum 
mons.  This  ends  the  matter,  and  prevents 
all  further  costs. 

Should  the  debtor  decide  to  let  the  matter 
proceed  to  a  trial,  the  creditor  must  prove 
his  claim.  Should  such  proof  be  made,  the 
justice  will  declare  a  judgment  in  favor  of 
the  creditor.  This  is  his  official  statement, 
that  the  claim  has  been  proven  just,  and  that 
the  debtor  must  pay  it,  together  with  the  in 
terest  and  costs  allowed  by  law.  Should 
the  creditor  fail  to  prove  his  claim,  the  jus 
tice  will  dismiss  the  suit,  and  the  creditor 
must  pay  the  costs. 

Either  party  in  a  trial  before  a  justice  of 
the  peace  may  demand  a  jury,  and  the  justice 
is  bound  to  grant  the  demand  upon  the  de 
posit  with  him  of  the  jury  fees  by  the  party 
making  the  demand.  The  jury  may  consist 
of  either  six  or  twelve  men. 

The  justice,  upon  such  demand  being  made, 
will  issue  a  writ  to  the  constable  to  summon 
the  proper  number  from  the  citizens  of  the 
place,  who  are  competent  to  serve  as  jurors. 

Should  the  defendant  fail  to  appear  before 
the  justice  within  the  time  named  in  the 
summons,  and  no  good  reason  be  offered  for 
his  absence,  the  justice  will  dismiss  the  suit 
unless  the  plaintiff  demands  a  trial,  then  and 
there,  or  at  some  other  time. 

Issuing  Execution. 

Should  a  demand  be  made  to  proceed  to 
immediate  trial,  the  justice  will  hear  the 
case,  and  should  the  claim  be  proved,  will 
enter  a  judgment  against  the  defendant,  and 
will  issue  an  execution  for  its  collection. 

An  execittion  is  a  writ  addressed  to  the 
constable,  directing  him  to  carry  into  effect 
the  decision  of  the  court.  It  generally  di 
rects  him  to  seize  and  sell  such  property  of 
the  defendant,  not  exempt  by  law,  as  will 
satisfy  the  claim  and  the  costs  of  the  suit. 

As  a  general  rule  the  constable  has  about 


j  seventy  days  in  which  to  levy  upon  and  sell 
the  property.  Should  the  plaintiff  feel  satis 
fied  that  Ills  claim  will  be  endangered  unless 
the  goods  are  seized  at  once,  he  may  make 
oath  to  that  effect,  and  the  justice  will  direct 
the  constable  to  make  the  levy  at  once.  As 
a  general  rule,  the  constable  cannot  sell  the 
goods  under  twenty  days  from  the  time  of 
seizure. 

Levy  on  Property. 

When  a  levy  is  made  upon  his  property^ 
the  defendant  may  claim  all  the  exemptions. 
This  may  be  determined  by  two  appraisers, 
one  appointed  by  the  defendant,  and  one  by 
the  constable,  or  the  constable  himself  may 
act  in  this  capacity. 

When  an  execution  is  placed  in  the  hands 
of  the  constable,  he  will  proceed  to  the  place 
where  the  property  is  located,  and  take  pos 
session  of  it.  He  will  advertise  the  property 
for  sale  at  least  ten  days  before  the  date  of 
the  sale,  by  causing  written  or  printed  notices 
of  the  sale  to  be  posted  up  in  three  prominent 
places  in  the  town  or  neighborhood.  At  the 
appointed  time,  the  constable  will  sell  the 
property  at  auction  to  the  highest  bidder. 
Arrest  of  Debtor. 

In  some  of  the  States,  when  an  attach' 
ment  has  been  issued  and  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  constable,  and  he  returns  that 
he  cannot  find  any  property  belonging  to 
the  defendant,  and  the  plaintiff  has  reason  to 
think  that  the  defendant  is  concealing,  or 
assigning  or  removing  his  property  with  a 
view  to  avoid  payment,  it  is  the  practice  to 
issue  a  Capias  for  the  arrest  of  the  debtor. 
This  is  a  very  delicate  proceeding,  and  is 
only  resorted  to  in  extreme  cases.  Before 
issuing  the  capias  the  justice  will  require 
of  the  plaintiff  or  his  attorney  a  bond  with 
good  security,  binding  the  plaintiff  and  his 
indorser  to  pay  all  damages  and  costs,  it 
any,  which  may  be  wrongfully  occasioned 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


by  a  capias  in  this  case.  The  capias  is 
then  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  constable, 
who  proceeds  to  arrest  the  defendant,  and 
take  him  before  the  magistrate  issuing  the 
capias. 

Giving  Bail. 

The  defendant  may  avoid  arrest  by  offer 
ing  as  "bail"  one  or  more  responsible  per 
sons,  who,  by  an  indorsement  written  on  the 
back  of  the  capias  and  signed  by  them,  bind 
themselves  to  produce  the  defendant  at  the 
place  and  time  appointed  for  the  trial,  the 
defendant  at  the  same  time  pledging  himself 
to  pay  the  amount  of  the  claim  with  costs 
if  a  judgment  shall  be  rendered  against  him, 
or  to  surrender  himself  to  his  creditor.  In 
case  he  fails  to  appear  at  the  trial,  or  to 
make  payment,  the  persons  who  signed  the 
bail  must  pay  the  claim  and  costs,  and  will 
be  compelled  by  the  court  to  do  so. 

In  more  complicated  cases  where  the 
creditor  finds  his  debtor  about  to  leave  the 
State,  or  where  he  is  a  non-resident,  it  is 
best  to  secure  the  services  of  a  competent 
attorney-at-law,  who  will  be  prepared  to 
take  the  proper  steps  for  securing  the  claim, 
and  to  advise  the  creditor  in  all  emergencies. 

As  a  creditor  renders  himself  liable  for 
damages  for  any  improper  interference  with 
the  rights  or  property  of  his  debtor,  it  is 
better  to  seek  legal  advice  in  matters  of  any 
importance. 

Where  a  debt  is  due  l^y  a  resident  of  one 
State  to  a  resident  of  another,  and  it  becomes 
necessary  to  resort  to  legal  measures  to  collect 
it,  it  will  be  best  to  place  the  ck"«~  4n  the 
bands  of  a  collection  agency. 


Collection  agencies  are  now  established  in 
all  large  towns.  In  connection  with  the 
offices  of  some  of  our  Commercial  Reports 
there  are  facilities  for  this  purpose.  All  the 
creditor  has  to  do  is  to  put  the  needful 
papers  into  the  hands  of  the  agency,  and  if 
it  is  possible  to  collect  the  debt  it  will  be 
done.  Of  course,  a  certain  commission  is 
granted  the  agency  in  case  the  debt  is  col 
lected,  or  in  case  it  is  not  collected,  a  certain 
fee  must  be  paid. 

This  simplifies  the  matter  to  a  great  ex 
tent,  for  a  man  living  in  the  West  having  a 
debt  due  him  in  the  East  would  not  always 
find  it  profitable  to  make  a  long  journey  for 
the  purpose  of  obtaining  what  is  due  him. 
It  is  therefore  a  matter  of  convenience  foi 
him  to  be  able  to  put  a  claim  in  the  hands  of 
a  collection  agency,  who  are  responsible  to 
him  for  the  return  of  what  they  receive  on 
the  account. 

In  general,  it  may  be  said  that,  considering 
the  large  amount  of  credit  given,  there  are 
comparatively  few  losses.  There  is  always 
a  certain  percentage,  yet  with  the  great  num 
ber  of  credits  given  in  all  commercial  busi 
ness,  it  is  remarkable  that  the  percentage  of 
losses  is  so  small.  The  best  guaranty  for  the 
payment  of  debts  is  not  the  legal  paper,  but 
the  honesty  and  integrity  of  the  individual, 
for  many  instances  are  on  record  showing 
that  men  who  had  been  released  by  the  court 
from  just  claims  have  afterwards  of  their  own 
free  will  made  all  such  claims  good  with  in 
terest.  This  is  the  spirit  in  which  all  busi 
ness  should  be  transacted,  and  is  so  transacted 
by  every  honorable  house, 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 


Last  Wills  and  Testaments. 


'HE  breaking  of  wills  has  become  a 
habit  A  man  makes  his  last  testa 
ment,  disposing  of  his  property, 
tlearly  stating  just  what  parties  are  to  re 
ceive  it,  dies  in  the  happy  assurance  that  his 
property  will  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  per 
sons  to  whom  he  has  devised  it,  and  then  he 
is  scarcely  cold  in  his  grave  before  his  rela 
tives,  near  and  remote,  are  having  a  lawsuit, 
each  contestant  try  ing  to  get  the  lion's  share 
of  the  estate.  The  man  was  crazy,  or  his 
mind  was  feeble,  or  he  was  unduly  influ 
enced.  The  sharks  in  effect  make  a  new 
will,  but  the  dead  man  is  not  consulted. 

Then  comes  the  wrangling,  the  false 
swearing,  the  subterfuges  of  crafty  lawyers, 
the  claims  of  thirty-third  cousins  who  were 
nevef  heard  of  until  the  old  man  died,  and 
never  would  have  been  heard  of  unless  he 
had  left  a  million.  And  so  a  man  shrewd 
enough  to  make  a  million  is  proved  to  have 
been  a  fool  or  a  lunatic,  and  did  not  know 
how  to  give  it  away.  Too  much  care  can 
not  be  exercised  in  making  £,  will. 

And  no  man  with  any  amount  of  pro 
perty  should  neglect  to  devise  it,  and  have 
the  instrument  deposited  in  a  safe  place.  To 
be  sure,  the  law  steps  in  and  settles  a  man's 
estate  after  he  has  left  it,  but  he  should  de 
clare  his  wishes  and  intentions  in  writing, 
and  should  do  this  when  in  health  and  pos 
sessed  of  the  full  use  of  all  his  faculties. 
There  should  be  no  neglect  nor  delay  in  a 
matter  so  important 

A  will  is  the  legal  declaration  of  what  a 
person  desires  to  nave  done  with  his  property 
*fter  his  death. 


There  is  nothing  more  Oirficuic  thai«  ttJ 
make  a  proper  will ;  nothing  in  which  leg*! 
advice  of  the  most  trustworthy  character  k 
needed.  Every  man  should  regard  it  as  his 
solemn  duty  to  make  a  will,  whether  he 
have  much  or  little  to  leave  behind  him ; 
but  no  one  should  venture  to  do  so  unaided, 
where  the  property  to  be  disposed  of  is  of 
importance,  or  where  it  is  liable  to  become 
a  subject  of  dispute  among  his  heirs. 
Legal  Debtor. 

Any  one  may  make  a  will  who  is  of  legal 
age  and  sound  mind.  A  married  woman 
cannot,  however,  make  a  will  unless  the  law 
of  the  State  in  which  her  property  is  situated 
vests  her  with  the  separate  ownership  of  it. 

The  legal  age  for  making  a  will  devising 
real  estate  is  twenty-one  years.  In  most  of 
the  States  a  male,  aged  eighteen  years,  or  a 
female,  aged  sixteen  years,  may  bequeath 
personal  property  by  will. 

The  person  making  a  will,  if  a  male,  is 
called  the  testator ;  if  a  female,  the  testatrix. 

A  will  is  of  no  effect  during  the  life  of  the 
maker,  and  may  be  set  aside,  altered  or 
replaced  by  a  new  will,  at  any  time  previous 
to  the  death  of  the  maker. 

The  last  will  made  annuls  all  previous 
wills.  It  is,  therefore,  the  duty  of  the  testa 
tor  to  state  distinctly  in  the  first  part  that 
this  is  his  last  will.  If  he  has  made  other 
wills,  he  should  state  that  by  this  instrument 
he  revokes  all  other  wills. 

The  will  should  close  with  a  formal  state 
ment  that  it  is  the  deliberate  act  of  the  tes 
tator,  and  that  it  is  properly  signed  and 
sealed  by  him. 

439 


440 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


Witnesses. 

All  wills  must  be  witnessed.  This  is  a 
very  important  part  of  making  a  will,  and 
should  be  performed  in  strict  accordance 
with  the  laws  of  the  State  in  which  it  is 
made.  Some  of  the  States  require  two,  and 
some  three  credible  witnesses.  It  is  a  good 
plan  for  the  testator  to  have  the  will  wit 
nessed  by  three  persons,  in  all  cases,  whether 
the  law  requires  it  or  not. 

The  witnesses  to  a  will  should  see  the 
testator  sign  it.  He  should  perform  the  act 
in  their  presence.  If  the  testator  cannot 
write,  or  is  too  feeble  by  reason  of  old  age 
or  sickness  to  do  so,  he  may  make  his  mark 
in  the  presence  of  the  witnesses. 

A  person  who  cannot  write  may  witness 
a  will  by  making  his  mark. 

The  word  "bequeath"  applies  to  personal 
property  alone;  the  word  "devise"  to  real 
estate  alone.  Care  should  be  taken  to  use 
these  words  properly.  The  testator  should 
say  in  the  commencement,  "  I  give,  bequeath, 
and  devise  my  estate  and  property  as  follows, 
that  is  to  say."  He  should  then  state  his 
wishes  as  to  his  property  in  their  proper 
order. 

Where  it  is  not  intended  that  the  interest 
of  an  heir  should  be  limited  to  his  life,  but 
that  he  should  have  power  to  dispose  of  his 
inheritance  at  his  death,  it  is  best  to  say, 
"To  A.  B.  and  his  heirs." 

Where  no  provision  is  made  in  a  will  for 
the  children  of  the  testator,  the  law  presumes 
that  such  omission  was  an  oversight,  and 
allows  such  child  an  equal  share  with  the 
other  children.  When  a  testator  designs  to 
exclude  a  child  from  a  share  in  his  estate, 
he  must  state  it  explicitly  in  the  will. 
Executors. 

The  executors  ought  always  to  be  named 
in  the  will,  though  an  omission  to  name 
them  does  not  invalidate  the  will.  An 


administrator  will  hi  such  case  be  appointed 
by  the  court  of  probate. 

A  witness  to  a  will  should  never  be  a 
legatee,  as  such  witness  cannot  inherit  the 
bequest  so  made.  This  does  not  interfere 
with  the  validity  of  the  will,  however. 

Where  a  will  is  made,  and  the  testator 
subsequently  disposes  of  any  or  all  the  prop 
erty  described  in  the  will,  the  will  is  inval 
idated  to  the  extent  of  the  alienation  of  the 
property. 

Where  a  man  makes  a  will,  and  subse 
quently  marries  and  has  children,  the  law 
regards  the  will  as  revoked,  unless  the  tes 
tator,  after  such  acts,  makes  a  new  will  con 
firming  the  original  one. 

A  person  cannot  be  an  executor  to  a  will 
if  at  the  time  of  the  probate  of  the  will  he  is 
a  minor,  a  drunkard,  a  convict,  or  of  unsound 
mind. 

Witnesses  are  not  required  to  know  thfc 
contents  of  the  will.  It  is  sufficient  that  the 
testator  declares  to  them  that  the  document 
is  his  will,  and  to  see  him  sign  it. 

Wills  are  of  two  kinds,  written  and  verbal 
or  nuncupative. 

Codicils. 

A  codicil  is  an  addition  to  a  will  designed 
to  modify  or  add  new  provisions  to  a  will. 
It  does  not  revoke  the  will.  Though  there 
can  be  but  one  will,  there  may  be  any  num 
ber  of  codicils. 

A  will  made  by  a  single  woman  is  revoked 
by  her  subsequent  marriage.  By  the  terms 
of  her  marriage  settlement  she  may,  how 
ever,  provide  for  the  right  to  dispose  of  her 
property. 

Bights  of  the  Wife. 

A  wife  cannot  be  deprived  of  her  dower 
by  any  will  of  her  husband.  A  husband 
may,  however,  bequeath  to  his  wife  a  certain 
sum  in  lieu  of  her  dower.  She  may  accept 


LAST  WILLS  AND  TESTAMENTS. 


441 


this  in  lieu  of  her  dower  or  not,  at  her 
pleasure.  If  the  will  fails  to  state  that  this 
bequest  is  in  lieu  of  her  dower  she  is  entited 
to  such  bequest  and  to  her  dower  also. 

In  the  Dominion  of  Canada  the  laws  with 
reference  to  wills  are  generally  the  same  as 
'"n  the  United  States.  In  the  Province  of 
Quebec,  however,  a  will  written  in  the  hand 
writing  of  the  testator  and  signed  by  him  is 
valid  without  witnesses. 

After  the  death  of  the  testator  his  pro 
perty  is  liable  for  his  debts.  These  must  be 


paid  before  the  provisions  of  the  will  caw 
take  effect.  The  laws  of  the  various  States 
give  precedence  to  the  various  claims  upon 
the  estate,  in  the  following  order  : 

1.  Funeral  expenses,  charges  of  the  lasl 
sickness,  and  probate  charges. 

2.  Debts  due  to  the  United  States. 

3.  Debts  due  to  the  State  in  which  the  dt> 
ceased  had  his  home. 

4.  Any  liens  attaching  to  the  property  b> 
law. 

5.  Debts  due  creditors  generally. 


General  Form  of  Will. 


NAME  AND 
RESIDENCE 

TO  THE  WIFE 


SON 


SERVANTS 


RESIDUE 


,  declare  this  to  b«» 


I,  Thomas  Henry  Howard,  of  the  City  of  Baltimore,  State  of 
my  last  will  and  testament. 

1.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  wife,  Catharine  Howard,  all  the  fixtures,  prints,  books,  paint 
ings,  linen,  china,  household  goods,  furniture,  chattels,  and  effects,  other  than  money,  or  secur 
ities  for  money,  which  shall,  at  my  death,  be  in  or  about  my  house,  No.  458  Park  avenue  in  the 
said  City  of  Baltimore. 

2.  I  give  and  devise  to  my  said  wife,  her  heirs  and  assigns,  the  dwelling  house  and  lot  of 
ground,  known  as  Number  458  (four  hundred  and  fifty-eight)  in  Park  avenue,  in  the  said  City 
of  Baltimore,  together  with  all  the  appurtenances  thereunto  belonging  ;  to  have  and  to  hold  the 
same  unto  the  said  Catharine  Howard,  her  heirs  and  assigns,  forever. 

3.  I  give  and  bequeath  unto  my  said  wife,  the  sum  of  two  thousand  dollars,  to  be  paid  to  he* 
within  one  month  after  my  death,  without  interest. 

4.  I  also  give  and  bequeath  unto  my  said  wife,  the  sum  of  fifty  thousand  dollars  in  the  pre 
ferred  stock  of  the  Baltimore  &  Ohio  Railroad  Company,  now  held  by  me. 

5.  I  give  and  devise  to  my  son,  George  Frederick  Howard,  his  heirs  and  assigns,  forever,  all 
that  certain  brick  dwelling  and  lot  of  ground,  known  as  Number  529,  in  St.  Paul  street,  in  the 
said  City  of  Baltimore,  together  with  all  the  hereditaments  and  appurtenances  thereto  belong 
ing,  or  in  anywise  appertaining  ;  to  have  and  to  hold  the  premises  above  described  to  the  said 
George  Frederick  Howard,  his  heirs  and  assigns,  forever. 

6.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  said  son,  George  Frederick  Howard,  the  sum  of  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  in  the  bonds  ot  the  United  States  of  Ametica,  known  as  the  five-twenty  bonds, 
being  all  the  securities  of  the  United  States  now  held  by  me. 

7.  I  also  bequeath  the  following  legacies  to  the  several  persons  hereafter  named  :    To  my 
nephew,  Thomas  Henry  Howard,  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars  ;  to  my  cousin,  Mrs.  Rebecca 
Jackson,  wife  of  Henry  B.  Jackson,  of  the  City  of  Annapolis,  Maryland,  the  sum  of  five  thousand 
dollars  ;   to  my  old  and  trusted  friend  and  clerk,  Alfred  W.  Lee,  the  sum  of  five  thousand 
dollars. 

8.  I  also  bequeath  to  each  of  my  domestic  servants  who  may  be  living  with  me  at  the  tim«. 
of  my  death,  the  sum  of  two  hundred  dollars. 

9.  All  the  rest,  residue,  and  remainder  of  my  real  and  personal  estate,  I  give,  devise,  and 
bequeath  in  equal  shares,  to  my  said  wife,  Catharine  Howard,  and  to  my  said  son,  George  Fred 
erick  Howard,  their  heirs  and  assigns,  forever. 

10.  I  appoint  my  said  son  and  my  said  friend,  Alfred  W.  Lee,  executors  of  this  my  will 
and  desire  that  they  shall  not  be  required  to  give  any  security  for  the  performance  of  their 
duties. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  I,  Thomas  Henry  Howard,  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and  Sfi&l 
this  twenty-fifth  day  of  May,  189  . 

THOMAS  HENRY  HOWARD.     [SEAI,.J 


442 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


MAME  AND 
RESIDENCE 


FUNERAL 
rOTHE  WIFE 


ELDEST  SON 


TO  THE 
SECOND  SON 


VO  THE 
"HIRD  SON 


JWAME  OF  DONOR 

ESTATE  AND 

V 


Subscribed  by  the  testator  in  presence  of  each  of  us,  and  at  the  same  time  declared  by  him 
to  us  as  his  last  will  and  testament. 

Witness  our  hands,  this  twenty-fifth  day  of  May,  A.  D.  189  . 

GEORGE  P.  FRANCIS, 
ROBERT  L.  PAGE, 


THOMAS  F.  LEWIS. 


Another  Form. 


I,  Henry  Hubert  White,  of  the  County  of  Hardin,  Frankfort,  State  of  Kentucky,  being  of 
sound  mind  and  memory,  do  make  and  publish  this  my  last  will  and  testament,  in  manner  and 
form  following,  that  is  to  say : 

1.  It  is  my  will  that  my  funeral  shall  be  conducted  without  pomp,  unnecessary  parade  or 
ostentation,  and  that  the  expenses  thereof,  together  with  all  my  just  debts,  be  fully  paid. 

2.  I  give,  devise,  and  bequeath  to  my  beloved  wife,  Rachael  White,  in  lieu  of  her  dower,  if 
she  should  so  elect,  the  plantation  on  which  we  now  reside,  situated  in  the  township  aforesaid, 
and  containing  two  hundred  and  ten  acres,  or  thereabouts,  during  her  natural  life :  And  all  the 
live  stock,  horses,  cattle,  sheep,  swine,  etc.,  by  me  now  owned  and  kept  thereon  :  Also,  all  the 
household  furniture  and  other  items,  not  particularly  named  and  otherwise  disposed  of,  in -this 
my  will,  during  her  said  life ;  she,  however,  first  disposing  of  a  sufficiency  thereof  to  pay  my 
just  debts,  as  aforesaid.     And  that,  at  the  death  of  my  said  wife,  all  the  property  hereby  devised 
or  bequeathed  to  her,  as  aforesaid,  or  so  much  thereof  as  may  then  remain  unexpended,  I  give 
unto  my  three  sons,  Thomas  White,  Richard  Lef  White,  and  Alfred  White,  and  to  their  heirs 
and  assigns,  forever. 

3.  I  give,  and  devise,  to  my  eldest  son,  Thoi.;.~o  White,  the  farm  on  which  he  now  resides, 
situated  in  Hardin  County,  Kentucky,  and  containing  one  hundred  and  fifty  acres,  or  there 
abouts,  and  to  his  heirs  and  assigns,  forever. 

4.  I  give,  and  devise  to  my  second  son,  Richard  Lee  White,  the  farm  now  in  the  occupancy 
of  George  P.  Woods,  situated  in  Hardin  County,  Kentucky,  and  containing  one  hundred  and 
ten  acres,  to  him,  the  said  Richard  Lee  White,  his  heirs  and  assigns,  in  fee  simple. 

5.  I  give  and  devise,  to  my  third  son,  Alfred  White,  the  house  and  lot,  in  the  town  of  Eliza- 
bet~.it  ~".-n,  in  the  County  and  State  aforesaid,  now  in  the  occupancy  of  Dr.  Alfred  Hughes,  known 

and  dxignated  in  the  plan  of  said by  No.  47,  to  him,  the  said  Alfred  White,  his  heirs  and 

assigns,  forever. 

And,  last :  I  hereby  constitute  and  appoint  my  said  wife,  Rachael  White,  and  my  said  son, 
Thomas  White,  to  be  the  executrix  and  executor  of  this,  my  last  will  and  testament,  revoking 
and  annulling  all  former  wills  by  me  made,  and  ratifying  and  confirming  this,  and  no  other,  to 
be  my  last  will  and  testament. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  I  ha- .  hereunto  set  my  hand  this  tenth  day  of  October,  A.  D.  189  . 

HENRY  HUBERT  WHITE. 

Signed,  published,  and  declared  oy  the  above-named  Henry  Hubert  White,  as  his  last  will 
and  testament,  in  presence  of  us,  who,  at  his  request,  have  signed  as  witnesses  of  the  same. 

RICHARD  JONES, 
THOMAS  W.  TUCKER, 
PETER  W.  ZOLLICOFFER. 

Form  of  Will  with  Entire  Property  Left  to  Wife  on  Certain  Conditions. 

Realizing  the  uncertainty  of  life,  I,  Charles  W.  Freeman,  of  Kenosha,  in  the  County  of 
Kenosha,  and  State  of  Wisconsin,  make  this  last  will  and  testament,  while  in  the  possession  of 
sound  mind  and  memory,  this  I4th  day  of  August,  189  . 

I  give,  devise  and  bequeath  unto  my  executors,  hereafter  named,  all  my  estate  and  effects 
that  I  may  die  possessed  of  or  entitled  to,  upon  trust,  to  be,  as  soon  as  conveniently  can  be, 
after  niy  decease,  sold  and  converted  into  money,  and  the  proceeds  invested  into  one  or  other 
of  the  public  funds,  and  the  dividends  arising  therefrom  to  be  paid,  yearly  each  and  every  year, 
unto  my  wife,  Harriet  D.  Freeman,  during  the  term  of  her  natural  life,  should  she  so  long 
continue  my  widow;  the  first  yearly  payment  thereof  to  commence  and  be  payable  at  the 
expiration  of  the  first  year  after  my  decease,  if  my  wife  remains  a  widow. 


LAST  WILLS  AND  TESTAMENTS. 


443 


ADMINISTRATOR; 


DISPOSITION  Of 
PROPERTY 


><t  SOUND  MIND 


Upon  her  second  marriage,  I  direct  that  one-third  of  all  moneys  from  my  estate,  set  apart 
for  her  use  by  my  executors,  be  given  her  for  her  use  and  behoof  forever,  to  control  as  she  may 
choose,  and  the  remaining  two-thirds  I  will  to  be  given  to  my  children,  to  be  divided  equally 
among  all  my  children  by  my  said  wife,  the  share  of  each  child  to  be  paid  on  his  or  her  respec- 
tively  attaining  the  age  of  lawful  majority ;  and  I  direct  that  the  dividends  arising  therefrom 
shall  be  applied,  at  the  discretion  of  my  executors,  towards  the  maintenance  and  education  of 
my  said  children,  until  they  shall  severally  and  respectively  attain  the  said  age.  And  in  case 
any  or  either  of  my  said  children  shall  happen  to  die  under  lawful  majority,  then  I  give  and 
bequeath  the  share  or  shares  of  him,  her,  or  them,  so  dying,  unto  the  survivor  or  survivors  of 
them. 

And  I  nominate  and  appoint  my  wife,  Harriet  D.  Freeman,  my  eldest  son,  Clinton  W. 
Freeman,  and  Walter  C.  Kimball,  and  the  survivor  of  them,  and  the  executors  or  administrators 
of  such  survivor,  to  be  the  executors  of  this  my  will,  and  in  consideration  of  the  trouble  thus 
imposed  on  them,  I  do  hereby  give  and  bequeath  unto  each  of  my  said  executors  the  legacy  tjr 
cum  of  five  hundred  dollars,  free  of  legacy  duty  and  all  other  deductions.  And  hereby  revoking 
ftj'  former  or  other  wills  by  me  at  any  time  made,  I,  the  said  Charles  W.  Freeman,  to  this  which 
I  eclare  to  be  my  last  will  and  testament,  set  my  hand  and  seal. 

CHAS.  W.  FREEMAN.     [SEAI,.] 

Signed  by  the  said  testator,  Charles  W.  Freeman,  and  acknowledged  by  him  to  be  his  last 
will  and  testament,  in  the  presence  of  us,  present  at  the  same  time,  and  subscribed  by  us  in  the 
presence  of  the  said  testator  and  of  each  other. 

BARNARD  McDous, 
RICHARD  WILSON, 
HIRAM  FLEMING. 

Nuncupative  Will. 

In  the  matter  of  the  nuncupative  will  of  Jonas  Lyman,  deceased. 

On  the  first  day  of  July,  189  ,  Jonas  Lyman,  being  in  his  last  sickness,  in  his  dwelling, 
situate  in  Burlington,  Iowa,  at  84  Huron  street,  in  the  presence  of  the  subscribers,  did  declare 
his  last  will  and  wishes  concerning  the  disposition  of  his  property,  in  the  following  words,  viz. : 

He  desired  that  his  seven  hundred  dollars  in  the  First  National  Bank  of  Burlington,  and  two 
hundred  dollars  in  the  hands  of  Silas  Holmes,  should  be  given  to  his  mother.  He  also  expressed 
a  desire  to  have  Silas  Holmes  act  as  his  executor,  to  collect  the  same  as  soon  as  possible,  with 
interest  due,  paying  the  entire  amount,  when  collected,  to  his  mother.  He  also  said,  "  All  my 
other  property  I  want  my  mother  to  have  for  her  separate  use,  except  my  house  and  lot  where  I 
live,  which  I  will  to  my  sister  Mary." 

At  the  time  the  said  Jonas  Lyman  stated  the  foregoing  as  his  will,  he  was  of  sound  mind  and 
memory,  and  desired  us  to  bear  witness  that  such  was  his  wish  and  desire. 

Reduced  to  writing  by  us,  this  tenth  day  of  July,  189  . 

ABIAI,  GOODING, 
ARTEMAS  WHITE, 
PETER  H.  SMITH. 

Affidavit  to  the  Foregoing. 

STATE  OF  IOWA, 
COUNTY  OK  LEE. 

Personally  appeared  before  me,  George  Hartwell,  Clerk  of  the  Court  of  Probate  for  said 
County,  Abial  Gooding,  Artemas  White,  and  Peter  H.  Smith,  who  deposed  that  they  were  present 
on  the  first  day  of  July,  A.  D.  189  ,  at  the  dwelling  of  the  said  Jonas  Lyman,  situate  at  84  Huron 
street,  Burlington,  Iowa,  and  did  hear  Jonas  Lyman  utter  what  is  specified  in  the  foregoing 
writing ;  that  he  wished  them  to  witness  that  it  was  his  last  will ;  and  that  at  the  time  he  was 
of  sound  mind  and  memory,  to  the  best  of  their  knowledge  and  belief. 

Sworn  and  subscribed  before  me,  thi»  -tath  day  of  July,  A.  D.  189  . 

GEORGE  HARTWHLL,  Clerk. 


444 


N  CASE  ALL 
PROPERTY  IS 
FPQUEATHED 

;HE  WILL 


REVOKING 
VORMER  WILLS 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 

A  Short  Form  of  Will,  Conveying-  the  Entire  Real  and  Personal  Property 

to  the  Wife  of  the  Testator. 

[A  will  which  bequeaths  all  the  property  of  the  testator,  real  and  personal,  wheresoever  it 
may  be,  carries  with  it  property  acquired  after  its  publication,  without  a  repetition  of  any 
formalities. 

The  question  in  relation  to  a  bequest  in  such  cases,  is  one  of  intention,  not  of  power.  The 
following  will  of  Onslow  Peters,  the  legality  of  which  was  tested,  and  sustained  by  the  courts, 
was  found  to  be  amply  sufficient  in  length  for  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  designed.  It  read 
as  follows  :] 

I,  Onslow  Peters,  do  make  and  publish  this  my  last  will  and  testament,  hereby  revoking  all 
former  wills  by  me  made. 

I  bequeath  all  my  property,  real  and  personal,  wheresoever  the  same  may  be,  to  my  beloved 
wife,  Hannah  P.  Peters. 

I  appoint  my  said  wife  the  executrix  of  this  my  last  will  and  testament.  My  will  is  thav 
my  said  wife  shall  not  be  required  to  give  any  bonds  or  security  to  the  judge  of  probate  for  the 
faithful  execution  of  the  duties  of  executrix. 

In  witness  whereof,  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and  seal,  this  thirteenth  day  of  September. 
A.  D.  eighteen  hundred  and  ninety  -  . 

Clause  for  Insertion  in  Wills,  Cancelling-  Debts  That  are,  or  May  Be,  Due. 

Whereas,  there  are  certain  sums  of  money  due  me,  upon  mortgages,  bills,  and  otherwise 
from  persons  hereafter  named  (naming  them),  it  is  my  will  that  such  indebtedness,  immediately 
after  my  death,  shall  be  cancelled  by  my  executors.  And  I  do  hereby  release  those  persons  afore- 
fcdid  from  the  payment  of  all  debts  due. 

Form  of  Codicil. 

Whereas  I,  Warren  P.  Holden,  did,  on  the  tenth  day  of  September,  189  ,  make  my  last  will 

NAME  AND  DATS  fln(j  testament,  I  do  now,  by  this  writing,  add  this  codicil  to  ni}-  said  will,  to  be  taken  as  a  part 
thereof. 

Whereas,  by  the  dispensation  of  Providence,  my  daughter,  Fanny  Almxra,  has  deceased 
February  third,  189  ,  and  whereas,  a  son  has  been  born  to  me,  which  son  is  now  christened 
Francis  Allen  Holden,  I  give  and  bequeath  unto  him  my  gold  watch,  and  all  right,  interest,  and 
title  in  lands  and  bank  stock  and  chattels  bequeathed  to  my  deceased  daughter,  Fanny  Almira, 
in  the  body  of  this  will. 

In  witness  whereof,  I  hereunto  place  my  hand  and  seal,  this  first  day  of  January,  189  . 

WARREN  P.  HOLDEN.     [SEAI,.] 

Signed,  sealed,  published,  and  declared  to  us  by  the  testator,  Warren  P.  Holden,  as  and  for 
a  codicil  to  be  annexed  to  his  last  will  and  testament.  And  we,  at  his  request,  and  in  his 
presence,  and  in  the  presence  of  each  other,  have  subscribed  our  names  as  witnesses  thereto,  at 
the  date  hereof. 

HARTLEY  B.  HAWLEY,  Beunington,  Vt. 

REUBEN  T.  HURD,  Arlington,  Vt. 

DANIEL  R.  BOTTOM,  Bennington,  Vt. 

Difference  of  Opinion  about  Provisions  of  the  Will  to  be  Settled  by 

Arbitrators. 


PROPERTY 


ARBITRATORS 


It  is  my  desire  that,  if  any  dispute,  question,  or  controversy  shall  happen,  concerning  any 
bequest  or  other  matter  in  this,  my  will,  such  question  shall  be  referred  to  the  arbitration  of  my 
friends,  A.  D.  and  C.  L.,  with  provision  for  them  to  choose  an  umpire  ;  but  should  they  not  t>a 
able  to  act  in  the  matter,  then  I  desire  that  my  wife  and  eldest  son  shall  each  appoint  an  arbitratoi 
or  arbitrators,  with  the  power  of  choosing  a  third  arbitrator;  and  what  a  majority  of  them  shal) 
determine  therein,  shall  be  binding  upon  all  and  every  person  or  persons  therein  concerned. 


How    to    Organize    Societies ;     Parliamentary    Rules   and 

By- Laws  ;   Forms  of  Resolutions  and  Petitions  ; 

How  to  Conduct  Public  Celebrations. 


IT  is  necessary  for  all  permanent  associations 
formed    for   mutual    benefit  to    have   a 
Constitution   by  which    they   shall    be 
governed. 

Where  it  is  intended  to  organize  a  society 
for  the  intellectual  improvement  or  social 
enjoyment  of  its  members,  a  number  of 
persons  meet  together  and  select  a  name 
for  the  organization.  The  next  step  is  to 
appoint  a  committee,  \\  hose  duty  it  shall  be 
to  prepare  a  Constitution  and  code  of  By- 
Laws  for  the  society.  These  must  be  re 
ported  to  the  society  at  its  next  meeting, 
and  must  be  adopted  by  the  votes  of  a 
majority  of  that  body  before  they  can  take 
effect. 

The  Constitution  consists  of  the  rules 
which  form  the  foundation  upon  which  the 
organization  is  to  rest.  It  should  be  brief 


and  explicit.  It  should  be  considered  ano 
adopted  section  by  section;  should  be  re 
corded  in  a  book  for  that  purpose,  and  should 
be  signed  by  all  the  members  of  the  society. 

Amendments  to  the  Constitution  should 
be  adopted  in  the  same  way,  and  should  be 
signed  by  each  member  of  the  society. 

In  addition  to  the  Constitution  it  is  usual 
to  adopt  a  series  of  minor  rules,  which  should 
be  explanatory  of  the  principles  of  the  Con*. 
stitution.  These  are  termed  By-Laivs,  and 
should  be  recorded  in  the  same  book  with 
the  Constitution,  and  immediately  after  it. 
New  by-laws  may  be  added  from  time  tc 
time,  as  the  necessity  for  them  may  arise. 
It  is  best  to  have  as  few  as  possible.  They 
should  be  brief,  and  so  clear  that  their  mean 
ing  may  be  easily  comprehended,  and  should 
govern  the  action  of  the  body. 


NAME  AND 
OBJECT 


OFFICERS  OF 
THE.  SOCIETY 


CONSTITUTION  OF  A  VILLAGE  LYCEUM. 

PREAMBLE. 

As  growth  and  development  of  mind,  together  with  readiness  and  fluency  of  speech,  are  the 
result  of  investigation  and  free  discussion  of  religious,  educational,  political,  and  other  topics, 
the  undersigned  agree  to  form  an  association,  and  for  its  government,  do  hereby  adopt  the 
following 

CONSTITUTION. 

ARTICLE  I.  The  name  and  title  of  this  organization  shall  be 

"The  Athenian  Literary  Association," 

and  its  object  shall  be  the  free  discussion  of  any  subject  coming  before  the  meeting  for  the 
purpose  of  diffusing  knowledge  among  its  members. 

ARTICLE  II.  The  officers  of  the  Association  shall  consist  of  a  President,  two  Vice-Presidents, 
a  Corresponding  Secretary,  a  Recording  Secretary,  a  Treasurer  and  a  Librarian,  who  shall  be 
elected  annually  by  ballot,  on  the  first  Monday  in  January  of  each  year,  said  officers  to  hold 
their  position  until  their  successors  are  elected. 

ARTICLE  III.  It  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  President  to  preside  at  all  public  meetings  of  the 
Society.  The  first  Vice-President  shall  preside  in  the  absence  of  the  President,  and  in  case  ol 
the  absence  of  both  President  and  Vice-President,  it  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  second  Vice-Presi< 
dent  to  preside. 

445 


446 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


DUTIES  OF 
THE  OFFICERS 


APPOINTMENT 
OF  COMMITTEES 


CONDITION  OF 
MEMBERSHIP 


TIMES  OF 
MEETING 


COLLECTION 
OF  DUES 


PARLIAMENTARY 
AUTHORITY 


PENALTY  FOR 
VIOLATING  RULES 


ALTERATIONS 
AND  AMEND 
MENTS 


The  duty  of  the  Secretary  shall  be  to  conduct  the  correspondence,  keep  the  records  of  the 
Society,  and  read  at  each  meeting  a  report  of  the  work  done  at  the  preceding  meeting. 

The  Treasurer  shall  keep  the  funds  of  the  Society,  making  an  annual  report  of  all  moneys 
received,  disbursed,  and  amount  on  hand. 

It  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  Librarian  to  keep,  in  a  careful  manner,  all  books,  records  and 
manuscripts  in  the  possession  of  the  Society. 

ARTICLE  IV.  There  shall  be  appointed  by  the  President,  at  the  first  meeting  after  his 
election,  the  following  standing  committees,  to  consist  of  three  members  each,  namely  :  On 
lectures,  library,  finance,  and  printing,  whose  duties  shall  be  designated  by  the  President. 

The  question  for  debate  at  the  succeeding  meeting  shall  be  determined  by  a  majority  vote 
of  the  members  present. 

ARTICLE  V.  Any  lady  or  gentleman  may  become  a  member  of  this  Society  by  the  consent 
of  the  majority  of  the  members  present,  the  signing  of  the  constitution,  and  the  payment  of  two 
dollars  as  membership  fee.  It  shall  be  the  privilege  of  the  Society  to  elect  any  person  whose 
presence  may  be  advantageous  to  the  Society,  an  honorary  member,  who  shall  not  be  required  to 
pay  membership  fees  or  dues. 

ARTICLE  VI.  This  association  shall  meet  weekly,  and  at  such  other  times  as  a  majority,  con 
sisting  of  at  least  five  members  of  the  association,  shall  determine.  The  President  shall  be 
authorized  to  call  special  meetings  upon  the  written  request  of  any  five  members  of  the  Society, 
which  number  shall  be  sufficient  to  constitute  a  quorum  for  the  transaction  of  business. 

ARTICLE  VII.  It  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  finance  committee  to  determine  the  amount  of 
dues  necessary  to  be  collected  from  each  member,  and  to  inform  the  Treasurer  of  the  amount, 
who  shall  promptly  proceed  to  collect  the  same  at  such  time  as  the  committee  may  designate. 

ARTICLE  VIII.  The  parliamentary  rules  and  general  form  of  conducting  public  meetings, 
as  shown  in  GOLDEN  MANUAL,  shall  be  the  standard  authority  in  governing  the  deliberations 
of  this  association 

ARTICLE  IX.  .ny  member  neglecting  to  pay  dues,  or  who  shall  be  guilty  of  improper  con 
duct,  calculated  to  bring  this  association  into  disrepute,  shall  be  expelled  from  the  membership 
of  the  Society  by  a  two-thirds  vote  of  the  members  present  at  any  regular  meeting.  No  mem 
ber  shall  be  expelled,  however,  until  he  shall  have  had  notice  of  such  intention  on  the  part  of 
the  association,  and  has  been  given  an  opportunity  of  being  heard  in  his  own  defense. 

ARTICLE  X.  By  giving  written  notic  ^  of  change  at  any  regular  meeting,  this  constitution 
may  be  altered  or  amended  at  the  next  stated  meeting  by  a  vote  of  two-thirds  of  the  members 
present. 


By-Laws- 

RULE  i. — No  question  shall  be  stated  unless  moved 
by  two  members,  nor  be  open  for  consideration  until 
stated  by  the  chair.  When  a  question  is  before  the 
society,  no  motion  shall  be  received,  except  to  lay  on 
the  table,  the  previous  question,  to  postpone,  to  refer, 
or  to  amend ;  and  they  shall  have  precedence  in  the 
order  in  which  they  are  arranged. 

RULE  2. — When  a  member  intends  to  speak  on  a 
question,  he  shall  rise  in  his  place,  and  respectfully 
address  his  remarks  to  the  President,  confine  himself 
to  the  question ,  and  avoid  personality.  Should  more 
than  one  member  rise  to  speak  at  the  same  time,  the 
President  shall  determine  who  is  entitled  to  the  floor. 

RULE  3. — Every  member  shall  have  the  privilege  of 
speaking  three  times  on  any  question  under  considera 
tion,  but  not  oftener,  unless  by  the  consent  of  the 
society  (determined  by  vote)  ;  and  no  member  shall 
speak  more  than  once,  until  every  member  wishing  to 
speak  shall  have  spoken. 

Ru*E  4. — The  President,  while  presiding,  shall  state 


every  question  coming  before  the  society ;  and  im 
mediately  before  putting  it  to  vote  shall  ask :  ' '  Are 
you  ready  for  the  question  ?  "  Should  no  member  rise 
to  speak,  he  shall  rise  to  put  the  question  ;  and  after 
he  has  risen  no  member  shall  speak  upon  it,  unless  by 
permission  of  the  society. 

RULE  5- — The  affirmative  and  negative  of  the  ques 
tion  having  been  both  put  and  answered,  the  President 
declares  the  number  of  legal  votes  cast,  and  whether  the 
affirmative  or  negative  have  it. 

RULE  6. — All  questions,  unless  otherwise  fixed  by 
law,  shall  be  determined  by  a  majority  of  votes. 

RULE  7- — After  any  question,  except  one  of  indefi 
nite  postponement,  has  been  decided,  any  member 
may  move  a  reconsideration  thereof,  if  done  in  two 
weeks  after  the  decision.  A  motion  for  reconsideration 
the  second  time,  of  the  same  question,  shall  not  be  in 
order  at  any  time. 

RULE  8. — Any  two  members  may  call  for  a  division 
of  a  question,  when  the  same  will  admit  of  it. 

RULE  9. — The  President,  or  any  member,  may  call 


FORM  OF  CONSTITUTION  FOR  LYCEUMS. 


447 


a  member  to  order  while  speaking,  when  the  debate 
must  be  suspended,  and  the  member  takes  his  seat 
until  the  question  of  order  is  decided. 

RULE  10. — The  President  shall  preserve  order  and 
decorum  ;  may  speak  to  points  of  order  in  preference 
to  other  members ;  and  shall  decide  all  questions  of 
order,  subject  to  an  appeal  to  the  society  by  any  mem 
ber,  on  which  appeal  no  person  shall  speak  but  the 
President  and  the  member  called  to  order. 

RULE  n. — No  motion  or  proposition  on  a  subject 
different  from  that  under  consideration  shall  be  ad 
mitted  under  color  of  an  amendment. 

RULE  12. — No  addition,  alteration  or  amendment  to 
the  constitution,  by  laws,  etc.,  shall  be  ac.ed  upon,  ex 
cept  in  accordance  with  the  constitution. 

RULE  13. — No  nomination  shall  be  consider:*!  as 
made  until  seconded. 

RULE  14. — The  President  shall  sign  all  proceedings 
of  the  meetings. 

RULE  15- — No  member  shall  vote  by  proxy. 

RULE  16. — No  motion  shall  be  withdrawn  by  the 
mover  unless  the  second  withdraw  his  second. 

RULE;  17. — No  extract  from  any  book  shall  be  read 
consuming  more  than  five  minutes. 

RULE;  18. — No  motion  for  adjournment  shall  be  in 
order  until  after  nine  o'clock. 

RULE;  19. — Every  motion  shall  be  reduced  to  writing, 
should  the  officers  of  the  society  desire  it. 

RULE  20. — An  amendment  to  an  amendment  is  in 
order,  but  not  to  amend  an  amendment  to  an  amend 
ment  of  a  main  question. 

RULE  21. — The  previous  question  shaL  oe  put  in  this 
form,  if  seconded  by  a  majority  of  the  members 
present :  "  Shall  the  main  question  be  put  ?  "  If  de 
cided  in  the  affirmative,  the  main  question  is  to  be  put 
immediately,  and  all  further  debate  or  amendment 
must  be  suspended. 

RULE  22. — Members  not  voting  shall  be  considered 
as  voting  in  the  affirmative,  unless  excused  by  the 
society. 

RULE  23. — Any  member  offering  a  pxOtest  against 
any  of  the  proceedings  of  this  society  may  have  the 
same,  if  in  respectful  language,  entered  in  full  upon 
the  minutes. 

RULE  24. — No  subject  laid  on  the  table  shall  be 
xaken  up  again  on  the  same  evening. 

RULE  25. — No  member  shall  speak  on  any  motion 
(except  the  mover  thereof)  more  than  twice,  nor  more 
than  once  until  all  wishing  to  speak  shall  have  spoken  ; 
neither  shall  he  make  or  debate  an  amendment,  having 
spoken  twice  on  the  original  motion,  without  per 
mission  of  the  society. 

RULE  26. — No  motion  shall  be  debatable  until 
seconded. 

RULE  27. — Points  of  onler  are  debatable  <r>  tl:c 
society. 


RULE;  28. — Appeals  and  motions  to  reconsider  01 
adjourn  are  not  debatable. 

RULE  29. — When  a  very  important  motion  or  amend 
ment  shall  be  made  and  seconded,  the  mover  thereof 
may  be  called  upon  to  reduce  the  same  to  writing,  and 
hand  it  in  at  the  table,  from  which  it  shall  be  read 
thrice,  open  to  the  society  for  debate. 

RULE  30. — The  mover  of  a  motion  shall  be  at  liberty 
to  accept  any  amendment  thereto  ;  but  if  an  amend 
ment  be  offered  and  not  accepted,  yet  duly  seconded, 
the  society  shall  pass  upon  it  before  voting  upon  the 
original  motion. 

RULE  31. — Every  officer,  on  leaving  his  office,  shall 
give  to  his  successor  all  papers,  documents,  books  and 
money  belonging  to  the  society. 

RULE  32. — No  smoking,  and  no  refreshments,  except 
water,  shall  be  allowed  in  the  society's  hall. 

RULE  33. — When  a  motion  to  adjourn  is  carried,  no 
member  shall  leave  his  seat  until  the  President  has 
left  his  chair. 

RULE  34. — No  alteration  can  be  made  in  these  rules  of 
order  without  a  four-fifth  vote  of  the  society ,  and  two 
weeks'  notice ;  neither  can  they  be  suspended  but  by 
a  like  vote,  and  then  for  the  evening  only. 

Subjects  for  Discussion. 

1 .  Which  would  be  of  greater  benefit  to  the  country,  a 
protective  tariff,  or  a  tariff  for  revenue  only  ? 

2.  Ought  laws  to  be  enacted  for  restricting  foreign  im 
migration  ? 

3.  Does  more  evil  than  benefit  result  from  laws  per 
mitting  divorce  ? 

4.  Prohibition,  or  High  License — which  ? 

5.  Which  was  the  greater  Orator,  Demosthenes  or 
Cicero  ? 

NOTE;. — The  discussion  of  this  question  must  include 
references  to  style,  aim  and  effect;  artistical,  mental 
and  moral  power. 

6.  Which  is  the  more  despicable  character,  the  Hypo 
crite  or  the  Liar  ? 

7.  Has  the  Fear  of  Punishment,  or  the  Hope  of  Re 
ward,  the  greater  influence  on  Human  Conduct  ? 

NOTE;. — This  question  involves  considerations  of 
great  importance.  It  has  do  do  with  Education,  Gov 
ernment,  and  Religion.  The  fear  of  punishment  is  the 
principle  usually  supposed  to  influence  us ;  and  upon 
this  principle,  for  the  most  part,  education,  laws,  and 
religious  instruction  are  founded :  but  many  of  the 
wisest  men  are  beginning  to  doubt  this  system. 

8.  Is  Corporal  Punishment  justifiable  ? 

9.  Was  Brutus  justified  in  killing  Csesar  ? 

NOTE;. — This  question  must  be  tried  by  the  morals 
of  the  time  when  the  act  took  place  and  not  by  the 
present  standard  of  morality.  It  is  quite  necessary  U\ 
.'•:.-.l.e  this  distinction. 


448 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


10.  Should  Emulation  be  encouraged  in  Education  ? 
NOTE. — The  system  of  prize-giving  in  education  has 

supporters  and  opponents,  both  so  determined,  that  a 
discussion  upon  the  subject  cannot  fail  to  be  interest 
ing  and  instructive.  Philosophy  and  experience  should 
both  be  referred  to  in  the  debate. 

11.  Which  was  the  greater  Poet,  Milton  or  Homer? 
NOTE. — This  debate  will  turn  upon  the  facts  that 

Homer  is  the  more  real,  life-like,  and  human  poet, 
whilst  Milton  is  the  more  imaginative,  sublime  and 
spiritual ;  the  decision  must  depend  upon  which  are 
the  nobler  qualities. 

12.  Is  Military  R»nown  a  fit  Object  of  Ambition  ? 

13.  Is  Ambition  a  Vice  or  a  Virtue  ? 

14.  Has  Nova^roading  a  Moral  Tendency  ? 

NOTE. — It  may  seem  that  this  question  barely  ad 
mits  of  discussion,  for  moral  novels  must,  of  course, 
have  a  moral  tendency ;  but  at  least  the  debate  may 
serve  to  lead  the  debaters  to  a  proper  selection  of 
novels. 

15.  Is  the  Character  of  Queen  Elizabeth  deserving  of 
our  Admiration  ? 

1 6.  Is  England  rising  or  falling  as  a  Nation? 

NOTE. — Compare  the  Elements  of  Modern  with  the 
Elements  of  Ancient  Prosperity. 

17.  Has  Nature  or  Education  the  greater  Influence  in 
the  Formation  of  Character  ? 

18.  Which  is  tbe  more  valuable  Metal,  Gold  or  Iron  ? 
NOTE. — This  is  a  question  between  Show  and  Value — 

between  ornament  and  utility. 

19.  Is  War  in  any  case  justifiable  ? 

20.  Has  the  Discovery  of  America  been  beneficial  to  the 
World? 

21.  Can  any  Circumstances  justify  a  Departure  from 
Truth  ? 

22.  Are  Sports  Justifiable? 

33.  Does  not  Virtue  necessarily  produce  Happiuess,  and 
does  not  Vice  necessarily  produce  Misery  in  this 
Life? 

24.  From  which  does  the  Mind  gain  the  more  Knowl 
edge,  Reading  or  Observation  ? 

25.  Have  our  Gold  Mines,  or  our  Coal  Mines,  been  more 
beneficial  to  the  country  ? 

*6.  Which  was  the  greater  General,  Hannibal  or  Alex 
ander  ? 

27.  Which  was  the  greater  Poet,  Dryden  or  Pope  ? 

28.  Which  has  done  the  greater  Service    to    Truth, 
Philosophy  or  Poetry  ? 

NOTE. — Philosophy  is  here  meant  to  signify  intel 
lectual  wisdom  ;  and  poetry,  that  inspiration  respect 
ing  truth  which  great  poets  exhibit,  and  which  seems 
to  be  quite  independent  of  acquired  knowledge.  Philo 
sophy  is  cultivated  reason,  poetry  is  A  moral  instinct 


toward  the  True  and  Beautiful.  To  decide  the  qnestior. 
we  must  see  what  we  owe  on  the  one  hand  to  the  dis 
coveries  of  our  philosophers,  to  Socrates,  Plato,  Epi 
curus,  Bacon,  Newton,  Locke ;  and  on  the  other,  for 
what  amount  and  sort  of  truth  we  are  indebted  to  the 
intuition  and  inspiration  of  our  poets,  as  Homer,  Mil 
ton,  Dante,  Shakespeare. 

29.  Is  an  Advocate  justified  in  defending  a  man  whoir  ,> 
he  knows  to  be  Guilty  of  the  Crime  with  which  hii 
is  charged  ? 

30.  Is  it  likely  that  England  will  sink  into  the  Decay 
which  befell  the  Nations  of  Antiquity  ? 

31.  Are  Lord  Byron's  Writings  Moral  in  their  Tend 
ency? 

NOTE. — The  works  of  Byron  must  here  be  looked 
atlas  a  whole,  and  not  be  judged  by  isolated  passages  ; 
they  must  be  tried,  too,  by  eternal,  and  not  by  fashion 
able,  morality. 

32.  Do  the  Mechanicians  of  Modern  equal  those  of  An 
cient  Times  ? 

33.  Which  is  the  greater  Civilizer,  the  Statesman  or 
the  Poet  ? 

34.  Which  was  the  greater  Writer,  Charles  Dickens  01 
Lord  Ly  tton  ? 

35.  Is  the  Principle  of  Utility  a  Safe  Moral  Guide  ? 

36.  Was  the  Deposition  of  Louis  XVI.  justifiable  ? 

37.  Is  the  use  of  Oaths  for  Civil  Purposes  Expedient  ? 

38.  Is  a  Classical  Education  essential  to  an  American 
Gentleman  ? 

39.  Are  Colonies  advantageous  to  the  Mother  Country  ? 

40.  Which  does  the  most  to  produce  Crime — Poverty, 
Wealth,  or  Ignorance  ? 

41.  Is  the  Unanimity  required  from  Juries  conducive  to 
the  Attainment  of  the  Ends  of  Justice  ? 

42.  Is  it  not  the  duty  of  a  Government  to  Establish  a 
System  of  National  Education  ? 

43.  Are  the  Intellectual  Faculties  of  the  Dark  Races  of 
Mankind  essentially  inferior  to  those  of  the  White  ? 

44.  Is  Solitary  Confinement  an  effective  Punishment  ? 
NOTE. — This  discussion  should  include  the  value  of 

Solitary  Confinement  as  a  punishment,  and  its  reform 
atory  effects  on  the  criminal. 

45.  Should  not  all  Punishment  be  Reformatory? 

46.  Is  a  Limited  Monarchy,  like  that  of  England,  th« 
best  form  of  Government  ? 

47.  Is  not  Private  Virtue  essentially  requisite  to  Great 
ness  of  Public  Character  ? 

48.  Is  Eloquence  a  Gift  of  Nature,  or  may  it  be  ac 
quired  ? 

49.  Is  Genius  an  innate  Capacity  ? 

50.  Is  a  rude  or  a  refined  Age  the  more  tavora ole  tc  thr 
Production  of  Works  of  Imagination  ? 


FORM  OF  CONS'liTUTION  FOR  LYCEUMS. 


31,  Is  the  Shakspearian  the  Augustan  Age  of  English 

Literature  ? 
$2.   Is  there  any  Standard  of  Taste? 

53.  Ought  Pope  to  rank  in  the  First  Class  of  Poets  ? 

54.  Has  the  Introduction  of  Machinery  been  generally 
beneficial  to  Mankind  ? 

55.  Which  produce  the  greater  Happiness,  the  Pleasures 
of  Hope  or  of  Memory  ? 

56.  Is  the  Existence  of  Parties  in  a  State  favorable  to 
the  Public  Welfare  ? 

57.  Is  there  any  Ground  for  believing  in  the  ultimate 
Perfection  and  universal  Happiness  of  the  Human 
Race? 

58.  Is  Co-operation  more  adapted  to  promote  the  Virtue 
and  Happiness  of  Mankind  than  Competition  ? 

59.  Was  the  Banishment  of  Napoleon  to  St.  Helena  a 
justifiable  Proceeding  ? 

So.  Ought  Persons  to  be  excluded  from  the  Civil  Offices 
on  account  of  their  Religious  Opinions  ? 

0i.  Which  exercises  the  greater  Influence  on  the  Civil 
ization  and  Happiness  of  the  Human  Race,  the 
Male  or  the  Female  Mind  ? 

Sa.  Which  did  the  most  to  produce  the  French  Revolu- 
lution,  the  Tyranny  of  the  Government,  the  ex 
cesses  of  the  Higher  Orders,  or  the  Writings  of  Vol 
taire,  Montesquieu  and  Rousseau  ? 

*3.  Which  was  the  greater  Poet,  Byron  or  Burns  ? 

64.  Is  there  reasonable  Ground  for  believing  that  the 
Character  of  Richard  the  Third  was  not  eo  atrocious 
as  is  generally  supposed  ? 

65.  Does  Happiness  or  Misery  preponderate  in  Life  ? 

66.  Should  the  Press  be  totally  Free  ? 

67.  Do  modern  Geological  Discoveries  agree  with  Holy 
Writ? 

68.  Did  Circumstances  justify  the  first  French  Revolu 
tion  ? 

69.  Could  not  Arbitration  be   made   a  Substitute  for 
War? 

70.  Which  Character  is  the  more  to  be  admired,  that  of 
Loyola  or  Luther  ? 

71.  Are  there   good  Grounds  for  applying  the  Term 
"  dark"  to  the  Middle  Ages  ? 

72.  Which  was  the  greater  Poet,  Chatterton  or  Cowper  ? 

73.  Are  Public  or  Private  Schools  to  be  preferred  ? 

74.  Is  the  System  of  Education  pursued  at  our  Univer 
sities  in  accordance  with  the  Requirements  of  the 
Age? 

29  c 


449 

75.  Was  the  Decline  of  Slavery  in  Europe  t.ttributab** 
to  moral  or  economical  Influences  ? 

76.  Is  anger  a  Vice  or  a  Virtue  ? 

77.  Which  was  the  greatest  Hero,  Alexander,  Caesar,  of 
Bonaparte  ? 

78.  Which  was  the  worse  Monarch,  Richard  the  Third 
or  Charles  the  Second  ? 

79.  Which  was  the  greater  man,  Franklin  or  Wash 
ington  ? 

80.  Is  it  true  that  America  is  the  greatest  of  Natious  ? 
8  r .   Should  not  greater  Freedom  of  expression  be  encour 
aged  in  debate  ? 

82.  Which  was  the  greater  Poet,  Chaucer  or  Spenser? 

83.  Is  the  present  a  Poetical  Age  ? 

84.  Was  Louis  XIV,  a  great  man? 

85.  Is  it  the  Duty  of  a   Government  to  make  ampla 
Provision  for  the  Authors  of  the  Nation? 

86.  Which  is  the  greater  Poet,  Mrs.  Howitt  or  Mrs. 
Hemans  ? 

87.  Should  not  all  National  Works  of  Art  be  entirely 
free  to  the  Public  ? 

88.  Are  the  Rudiments  of  individual  Character  discern 
ible  in  Childhood  ? 

89.  Is  Satire  highly  useful  as  a  Moral  Agent  ? 

90.  Has  the  Faculty  of  Humor  been  of  essential  Service 
to  Civilization  ? 

91.  Is  it  to  Emigration  that  England  must  mainly  look 
for  the  Relief  of  her  population  ? 

92.  Does  National  Character  descend  from  age  to  age  ? 

93.  Do  the  Associations  entitled  "Art  Unions  "  tend  to 
promote  the  spread  of  the  Fine  Arts  ? 

94.  Is  it  possible  that  the  World  will  ever  again  pos 
sess  a  Writer  as  great  as  Shakspeare  ? 

95.  Is  the  cheap  Literature  of  the  Age  on  the  whole 
beneficial  to  general  Morality  ? 

96.  Should  Practice  in  Athletic  Games  form  a  Part  of 
every  System  of  Education  ? 

97.  Is  the  Game  of  Chess  a  good  Intellectual  and  Moral 
Exercise  ? 

98.  Have  Mechanics'  Institutions  answered  the  Expec 
tations  of  their  founders  ? 

99.  Which  is  to  be  preferred,  a  Town  or  a  Country  Life  ? 
too.  Which    was    the    greater  Poet,  Wordsworth   or 

Byron  ? 

101.  Which  is  the  more  baneful,  Skepticism  or  Super 
stition  ? 

102.  Is  the  average  Duration  of  Human  Life  increasing 
or  diminishing  ? 


CHAPTER  XL. 

Parliamentary  Rules  and  Usages. 


"HE  following  are  the  complete  rules, 
in  a  plain  and  compact  form,  for 
conducting  a  public  meeting: 

Quorum. 

A  quorum  is  a  sufficient  number  of  the 
members  of  an  association  to  legally  transact 
business.  Unless  a  quorum  is  present  no 
business  is  in  order,  except  to  adjourn.  A 
majority  of  the  members  constitutes  a  natural 
quorum,  but  the  by-laws  of  the  association 
may  prescribe  a  smaller  number. 
The  Chairman. 

I .  is  the  duty  of  the  chairman  to  open  the 
meeting  at  the  time  fixed  upon,  by  taking 
the  chair,  calling  the  house  to  order,  to 
announce  the  business  before  the  house  in 
the  order  in  which  it  is  to  be  acted  upon ;  to 
receive  and  submit  all  motions;  to  put  to 
vote  all  questions  which  are  regularly  moved, 
or  which  necessarily  arise  in  the  course  of 
proceedings,  and  to  announce  the  result ;  to 
restrain  every  one,  when  engaged  in  debate, 
within  the  rules  of  order;  to  enforce  the 
observance  of  order  and  decorum ;  to  appoint 
committees;  to  authenticate  by  his  signa 
ture,  when  necessary,  all  the  acts  and  pro 
ceedings  of  the  house,  and  generally  to 
declare  its  will.  Hf 

He  may  speak  to  points  of  order  in  pre 
ference  to  others ;  shall  decide  all  questions 
of  order,  and  if  the  house  is  evenly  divided 
he  may  give  the  casting  vote,  in  doing  which 
he  may,  if  he  pleases,  give  his  reasons. 
The  Clerk. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  clerk  or  secretary  to 
keep  correct  minutes  of  the  proceedings  of 
450 


the  house ;  to  read  all  papers  when  ordered, 
and  for  this  purpose  he  should  always  rise; 
to  call  the  roll,  and  state  the  answer  when 
a  vote  is  taken  by  yeas  and  nays;  to  have 
the  custody  of  all  papers  and  documents,  and 
to  authenticate  the  acts  and  proceedings  of 
the  house  by  his  signature. 
Committees. 

Standing  comn'iittees  sit  permanently; 
special  committees  perform  only  some  par 
ticular  duty,  when  they  are  discharged. 
The  person  first-named  is  usually  regarded 
as  chairman,  but  this  is  only  a  matter  of 
courtesy;  every  committee  has  a  right  to 
select  its  own  chairman.  Custom,  however, 
has  practically  taken  away  this  right,  and  it 
is  considered  bad  form  to  elect  any  other 
person  than  the  first-named  as  chairman, 
The  mover  of  a  motion  to  commit,  should 
be  placed  on  the  committee  and  first-named, 
except  where  the  matter  committed  con 
cerns  him  personally.  In  the  appointment 
of  the  committee  no  person  directly  opposed 
to  the  measure  committed  should  be  named, 
and  when  any  person  who  is  thus  opposed 
to  same,  hears  himself  named  of  its  com 
mittee  he  should  ask  to  be  excused. 

The  chair  appoints  all  committees.  Com- 
mittees  do  not  adjourn,  but,  when  they  have 
concluded  their  deliberations,  should  rise  and 
report.  The  report  should  be  presented  by 
the  chairman.  When  the  report  is  received 
the  committee  is  dissolved  and  cannot  act 
further  without  new  power. 

Any  committee  required  or  entitled  to 
report  upon  a  subject  referred  to  them  may 
make  a  majority  and  minority  report,  while 


PARLIAMENTARY  RULES  AND  USAGES. 


any  member  of  such  committee  dissenting 
in  whole  or  in  part,  from  either  the  conclu 
sion  or  the  reasoning  of  both  the  majority 
and  minority,  may  also  present  a  statement 
of  his  reasons  for  such  dissent,  which  should 
be  received  in  connection  with  the  reports. 

The  committee  of  the  whole  is  an  expe 
dient  to  simplify  the  business  of  legislative 
bodies.  No  record  is  made  of  its  proceed 
ings.  The  presiding  officer  puts  the  ques 
tion,  and,  if  same  is  carried,  appoints  some 
person  as  chairman  and  then  vacates  the 
chair. 

Motions. 

Propositions  made  to  a  deliberative  assem 
bly  are  called  motions;  when  the  proposition 
is  put  to  vote  it  is  called  the  question.  A 
motion  cannot  be  entertained  or  the  question 
put,  until  the  same  has  been  seconded. 
After  this  it  becomes  the  property  of  the 
house,  and  cannot  be  withdrawn  except  by 
leave.  It  must  be  in  writing  whenever  the 
house  or  presiding  officer  require  it,  and 
must  be  read  when  any  person  demands  it 
for  information. 

An  exception  to  the  rule  requiring  a 
second  to  a  motion  is  made  in  cases  when 
the  proposition  is  to  proceed  with  or  to 
execute  an  order  of  the  house;  as  where  it 
is  moved  to  proceed  with  an  order  of  the 
day,  or  where  a  call  is  made  for  the  enforce 
ment  of  some  order  relating  to  the  observ 
ance  of  decorum. 

No  motion  can  be  made  while  a  speaker 
has  the  floor,  nor  while  another  motion  is 
pending,  except  it  be  a  question  of  privilege. 

Amendments. 

A  motion  may  be  amended  by  inserting 
or  adding  words,  or  by.  striking  out  words, 
or  by  striking  out  and  inserting  words.  An 
amendment  takes  precedence  of  the  original 
question  and  must  be  first  decided.  So,  too, 
an  amendment  to  an  amendment  must  be 


decided  before  the  amendment  A  motion 
may  be  made  to  amend,  after  which  a  mo 
tion  will  be  to  amend  the  amendment,  but 
this  is  the  full  limit  of  the  rule  by  which  one 
motion  may  be  put  upon  another.  A  mo 
tion  to  amend  the  second  amendment  is  not 
in  order. 

Questions  of  privilege  cannot  be  amended, 
except  that  a  motion  to  postpone  can  be 
amended  as  to  time. 

The  Question. 

The  question  is  first  to  be  put  on  the 
affirmative  and  then  on  the  negative  side ; 
the  vote  in  most  cases  being  by  oral  response. 
If  there  are  doubts  as  to  the  voice  of  the 
majority,  any  one  may  call  for  a  division. 
In  all  cases  where  the  house  is  equally 
divided  the  question  is  lost,  unless  the  pre 
siding  officer  affirms  it  by  a  casting  vote. 

When  a  division  is  had,  those  in  the  affirm 
ative  on  the  question  should  first  rise  and  be 
counted,  or,  if  there  still  be  a  doubt,  or  a 
count  be  called  for,  the  chairman  should  ap 
point  two  tellers,  one  from  each  side,  to  make 
the  count  and  report  the  same  to  the  chair 
man,  who  should  then  declare  the  same  to 
the  house. 

In  small  matters  of  routine  business  or  trif 
ling  importance,  such  as  receiving  reports, 
withdrawing  motions,  etc.,  the  presiding 
officer  may  suppose  the  consent  of  the  house 
where  no  objection  is  expressed,  and  need 
not  give  them  the  trouble  of  putting  the 
question  formally. 

A  question  should  always  be  stated  by  the 
chair  before  it  is  put,  after  which  it  is  open 
to  debate.  Questions  may  be  stated  by  the 
chair  while  sitting,  but  he  should  always  rise 
to  put  a  question,  and  should  use  substan 
tially  this  form :  "As  many  as  are  of  the 
opinion  that  (as  the  question  may  be)  will 
say  aye  ;"  and  after  the  affirmative  voice  is 
expressed,  "As  many  as  are  of  a  contrary 


452 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


opinion,  will  say  no."  He  declares  the  vote. 
After  a  question  has  been  put  it  is  not 
debatable,  but  after  the  affirmative  is  put 
any  person  who  has  not  spoken  before  to 
the  question  may  rise  and  speak  before  the 
negative  is  put. 

Division  of  Question. 

Any  person  may  call  for  the  division  of  a 
question  if  it  comprehend  propositions,  in 
substance  so  distinct,  that,  one  being  taken 
away,  a  substantive  proposition  shall  remain 
for  decision. 

When  a  question  is  divided,  after  the  qaes- 
tion  on  the  first  part,  the  second  is  open  to 
debate  and  amendment. 

Privileged  Questions. 

When  a  question  is  under  debate,  no 
motion  shall  be  received,  except  to  adjourn ; 
to  lay  on  the  table ;  for  the  previous  ques 
tion;  to  postpone  to  a  certain  day;  to 
commit ;  to  amend ;  to  postpone  indefinitely. 
These  motions  have  precedence  in  the  order 
in  which  they  stand  arranged,  and  are  called 
privileged  questions. 

A  motion  to  adjourn  is  always  in  order 
and  takes  precedence  of  all  other  motions, 
and  an  order  of  the  day  takes  the  place  of 
all  questions  except  adjournment. 

When  a  matter  has  been  laid  on  the  table 
it  may  be  taken  up  at  any  time  afterward 
and  considered,  but  not  at  the  same  meeting 
or  session  at  which  it  was  tabled.  Fre 
quently  this  motion  is  made  to  finally  dis 
pose  of  the  matter,  and  it  always  has  this 
effect  when  no  motion  is  afterward  made  to 
take  it  up.  The  proper  motion  for  proceed 
ing  with  a  matter  that  has  been  ordered  to 
lie  on  the  table,  is,  that  the  house  do  now 
proceed  to  consider  that  matter,  although  it 
would  be  proper  to  move  that  the  matter  be 
taken  up  for  consideration. 

There  are  several  questions  which,  being 
incidental  to  every  one,  will  take  the  place 


of  every  one,  privileged  or  not;  as,  a  que.< 
tion  of  order  arising  out  of  any  other  ques 
tion  must  be  decided  before  that  question. 

A  motion  for  indefinite  postponement  is 
generally  resorted  to  in  order  to  suppress  a 
question  or  prevent  its  coming  to  vote. 

Previous  Question. 

When  any  question  is  before  the  house 
any  member  may  move  that  the  question 
(called  the  main  question)  be  now  put,  or,  as 
it  is  usually  termed,  may  move  the  previous 
question.  If  it  pass  in  the  affirmative,  then 
the  main  question  is  to  be  put  immediately, 
ana  no  further  debate  is  permitted. 

The  previous  question  being  moved  and 
seconded,  the  question  from  the  chair  should 
be,  "Shall  the  main  question  be  now  put?" 
If  the  nays  prevail  the  main  question  remains 
as  the  question  before  the  house,  in  the  same 
stage  of  proceedings  as  before  the  previous 
question  was  moved. 

Equivalent  Questions. 

Where  questions  are  perfectly  equivalent, 
so  that  the  negative  of  the  one  amounts  to 
the  affirmative  of  the  other,  and  leaves  no 
other  alternative,  the  decision  of  the  one 
necessarily  concludes  the  other.  Thus  tV 
negative  of  striking  out  amounts  to  the 
affirmative  of  agreeing;  and,  therefore,  tf 
put  a  question  on  agreeing  after  that  or 
striking  out,  would  be  to  put  the  same 
question  in  effect  twice  over. 

Questions  of  Order. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  chairman  to  decide 
all  questions  of  order  whenever  raised.  Upon 
such  questions  no  debate  or  discussion  is  in 
order,  but  if  the  decision  is  not  satisfactory 
any  one  may  object  to  it  and  appeal  to  the 
house.  On  appeal  being  taken,  the  question 
should  be  :  "  Shall  the  decision  of  the  chair 
stand  as  the  judgment  of  the  house  ?"  Where- 


PARLIAMENTARY   RULES  AND  USAGES. 


453 


upon  tne  question  may  be  debated  and  dis 
cussed  the  same  as  any  other  question. 
Commitment. 

Any  measure  may  be  referred  to  a  com 
mittee  on  motion.  This  motion  stands  in 
th<  "lame  degree  with  the  previous  question 
and  postponement,  and,  if  first  made,  takes 
precedence  of  them.  A  motion  to  commit 
may  be  amended  by  the  substitution  of  one 
kind  of  committee  for  another,  or  by  en 
larging  or  diminishing  the  number  of  the 
members  of  the  committee,  as  originally  pro 
posed,  or  by  instructions  to  the  committee. 

After  a  measure  has  been  committed  and 
reported,  it  should  not,  in  an  ordinary  course, 
be  recommitted,  but  in  cases  of  importance, 
and  for  special  reasons,  it  is  sometimes  re 
committed,  and  usually  to  the  same  com 
mittee. 

Reconsideration. 

When  a  motion  or  question  shall  have 
been  determined,  either  in  the  affirmative  or 
negative,  it  is  always  in  order  for  any  one 
who  voted  with  the  majority,  or  in  case  the 
vote  was  equally  divided,  for  one  who  voted 
in  the  negative,  to  move  for  a  reconsideration 
thereof.  Such  motion  must  be  made  at  the 
same  meeting  at  which  the  former  vote  was 
taken.  A  motion  to  reconsider,  being  put 
and  lost,  cannot  be  renewed. 

Undebatable  Motions. 

A  motion  to  adjourn ;  to  lay  on  the  table, 
and  a  call  for  the  previous  question,  must  be 
decided  without  debate.  And  all  incidental 
questions  of  order,  arising  after  a  motion  is 
made  for  either  of  the  foregoing  questions, 
must  be  decided,  whether  on  appeal  or  other 
wise,  without  debate. 

Order  in  Debate. 

When  a  person  means  to  speak,  ne  is  to 
stand  up  in  his  place,  uncovered,  and  address 
himself  to  the  chair,  who  calls  him  by  name, 
that  all  may  take  notice  who  it  is  that  speaks. 


A  person  who  is  indisposed  may  be  indulged 
to  speak  sitting. 

When  a  person  rises  to  speak,  no  question 
is  to  be  put,  but  he  is  to  be  heard  undisturbed, 
unless  overruled. 

If  two  or  more  rise  to  speak  nearly  together, 
the  chair  determines  who  was  first  up  and  calls 
him  by  name,  whereupon  he  proceeds,  unless 
he  voluntarily  sits  down  and  yields  the  flooi 
to  the  other. 

No  one  may  speak  more  than  twice  to  the 
same  question  without  the  consent  of  the 
house,  except  merely  to  explain  himself  in 
some  material  part  of  his  speech,  or  to  the 
manner  of  the  words  in  question,  keeping 
himself  to  that  only  and  not  going  into  the 
merits  of  it. 

If  the  chairman  rises  to  speak,  the  person 
standing  must  sit  down,  that  the  chair  may 
be  first  heard. 

No  one  is  to  speak  impertinently,  or  beside 
the  question,  or  to  use  indecent  language 
against  the  proceedings  of  the  house.  Nor 
should  a  person  in  speaking,  mention  another 
then  present,  by  his  name,  but  should  de 
scribe  him  by  his  seat,  or  as  "  the  gentleman 
who  spoke  last,"  or,  "on  the  other  side  of 
the  question,"  etc. 

Any  one  when  called  to  order  by  another 
or  by  the  chair,  must  sit  down,  and  not  pro 
ceed  without  leave  until  the  question  of  order 
shall  have  been  decided  by  the  chair. 

While  the  presiding  officer  is  addressing 
the  house  or  putting  a  question,  no  one 
should  cross  the  floor  or  leave  the  room ;  nor 
while  another  is  speaking,  walk  between  him 
and  the  chair. 

Adjournment. 

A  motion  to  adjourn  is  not  susceptible  of 
amendment.  If  it  is  desirable  to  adjourn  to 
any  particular  place  or  time,  this  may  be 
accomplished  by  a  previous  resolution  to 
that  effect. 


CHAPTER  XU. 


Forms  for  Resolutions  and  Petitions. 


WRITTEN  resolution  is  a  formal  and 
deliberate  mode  of  expressing  the 
opinions  and  sentiments  of  a  society, 
dub,  or  public  assemblage. 
:  Resolutions  should  be  written  tersely  and 
with  great  clearness.  No  unnecessary  words 
should  be  used;  nor  should  there  be  any 
ambitious  attempts  at  fine  writing.  The 
writer  of  the  resolutions  should  state  exactly 
what  he  means ;  nothing  more  nor  less. 
It  is  customary  to  preface  a  series  of  reso 


lutions  by  a  preamble.  This  may  be  omitted 
at  the  discretion  of  the  writer.  Where  a  pre 
amble  is  used,  it  should  set  forth  the  cause 
of  the  resolutions  which  are  to  follow.  It 
should  always  begin  with  the  word  "Where 
as." 

The  resolutions  follow  immediately  after 
the  preamble,  each  one  beginning  with  the 
word  "  Resolved." 

We  give  a  few  resolutions  as  specimens  for 
the  guidance  of  the  reader. 


RESOLUTIONS  OF 
CONDOLENCE  ON 
THE  DEATH  OF 
A  FREE  MASON 


At  a  regular  communication  of  St.  John's  Lodge,  No.  210,  A.  F.  and  A.  M.,  held  March 
24th,  189  ,  the  following  preamble  and  resolutions  were  unanimously  adopted : 

WHEREAS,  It  has  pleased  the  Supreme  Architect  of  the  Universe  to  remove  from  our  midst 
our  late  brother,  Thomas  W.  Johnston ;  and, 

WHEREAS,  The  intimate  relations  long  held  by  our  deceased  brother  with  the  members  of 
this  Lodge  render  it  proper  that  we  should  place  on  record  our  appreciation  of  his  services  as  £ 
Mason,  and  his  merits  as  a  man  :  therefore  be  it 

Resolved,  By  St.  John  Lodge,  No.  210,  on  the  registry  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Maryland,  at 
Ancient,  Free  and  Accepted  Masons,  that,  while  we  bow  with  humble  submission  to  the  will 
of  The  Most  High,  we  do  not  the  less  mourn  for  our  brother  who  has  been  called  from  his 
labor  to  rest. 

Resolved,  That  in  the  death  of  Thomas  W.  Johnston  this  Lodge  loses  a  brother  who  was  al 
ways  active  and  zealous  in  his  work  as  a  Mason  ;  ever  ready  to  succor  the  needy  and  distressed 
of  the  fraternity  ;  prompt  to  advance  the  interests  of  the  Order  ;  devoted  to  its  welfare  and  pros 
perity  ;  one  who  was  wise  in  counsel  and  fearless  in  action  ;  an  honest  and  upright  man,  whose 
virtues  endeared  him  not  only  to  his  brethren  of  the  Order,  but  to  all  of  his  fellow-citizens. 

Resolved,  That  this  Lodge  tenders  its  heartfelt  sympathy  to  the  family  and  relati,  cs  of  our 
deceased  brother  in  this  their  sad  affliction. 

Resolved^  That  the  members  of  this  Lodge  will  attend  the  body  of  our  deceased  brother  to 
the  grave  in  full  regalia,  to  pay  the  last  honors  to  his  remains. 

Resolved,  That  these  resolutions  be  entered  upon  the  Minutes  of  this  Lodge,  and  that  a  copy 
of  them  be  sent  to  the  family  of  our  deceased  brother. 


454 


Resolved,  That  the  continuance  of  the  slaughter-house  of  Messrs.  Green  and  White,  in  the 
midst  of  a  densely  populated  neighborhood,  is  an  intolerable  nuisance,  which  is  incompatible 
with  the  health  and  comfort  of  those  who  reside  in  its  vicinity. 

Resolved,  That  a  committee  of  three  be  appointed  by  the  chair,  whose  duty  it  shall  be  to  ap 
prise  the  proper  authorities  of  the  existence  and  nature  of  the  nuisance ;  and  in  case  such  action 
shall  not  produce  its  abatement,  then  to  employ  counsel,  and  take  such  other  legal  steps,  as  thfc 
case  may  require. 


FORMS  FOR  RESOLUTIONS  AND  PETITIONS. 


RESOLUTIONS 
ADOPTED  BY  A 
TEMPERANCE 
MEETING 


455 


WHEREAS,  The  evil  of  intemperance  is  steadily  increasing  among  us,  and  many  who  might 
otherwise  become  good  and  useful  citizens  are  falling  victims  to  this  terrible  curse  ;  and 

WHEREAS,  One  great  cause  of  this  increase  of  drunkenness  is,  in  our  opinion,  the  open  dis 
regard  of  the  laws  respecting  the  sale  of  intoxicating  beverages  on  the  part  of  the  keepers  of  the 
bar-rooms  and  saloons  of  this  place,  who  continue  the  sale  of  such  liquors  after  the  hour  of  mid 
night  and  on  Sundays,  although  forbidden  by  law  to  do  so ;  therefore  be  it 

Resolved,  That  a  committee  of  five  be  appointed  by  this  meeting  to  investigate  the  extent  of 
this  violation  of  the  law,  and  to  lay  the  result  of  their  labor  before  the  Common  Council  of  this 
«ty  at  its  next  meeting. 

Resolved,  That  we  call  upon  the  mayor,  aldermen,  and  the  police  force  of  this  city,  to  en 
force  the  law  relating  to  the  sale  of  liquors  ;  and  we  hereby  remind  them  that  the  people  of  this 
city  will  hold  them  responsible  for  allowing  the  ordinances  regulating  the  "ale  of  liquors  to  be 
violated  by  the  keepers  of  saloons. 


Resolved,  That  the  thanks  of  the  passengers  are  hereby  tendered  to  the  captain  and  officers 
THANKS  TO  THE  of  ^e  ship  (here  insert  name},  for  the  cool,  dexterous,  and  efficient  manner  in  which  they  per- 
SHIpCFEoRRST°HFE*R  fQTmed  the  duties  appertaining  to  each  ;  to  the  crew  for  their  prompt  obedience  to  orders,  and  to 
CONDUCT  DURING  all  concerned  for  their  earnest  endeavors  to  promote  the  safety  of  the  passengers  under  their 
AN  EMERGENCY  charge,  during  the  perilous  storm,  from  which,  owing  to  the  goodness  of  Providence,  we  have 
been  safely  delivered. 

Resolved,  That  the  foregoing  resolutions,  signed  by  the  passengers,  be  transmitted  to  the 
owners  of  the  ship,  anri  a  copy  be  furnished  to  the  public  journals,  with  the  request  for  their 
publication, 


Resolved,  That  the  thanks  of  this  convention  are  hereby  given  to  the  president,  for  the  able, 

THANKS  TO  THE 

OFFICERS  OF  A     dignified,  and  impartial  manner  in  which  he  has  presided  over  its  deliberations,  and  to  the  other 
CONVENTION         officers  for  the  satisfactory  manner  in  which  they  have  fulfilled  the  duties  assigned  to  them. 

\Such  a  resolution  as  the  above  must  be  offered  at  the  close  of  the  convention.  The  member  offering 
it  must  put  the  question,  and  announce  the  resulf  —  the  resolution  being  personal  to  the  presiding  officer  I\ 

RESOLUTIONSON  WHEREAS,  The  Reverend  Boanerges  Drunnn,  D.D.,  has  been,   in  the  providence  of  God, 

THE  DEPARTURE    caiie(i  to  labor  in  another  part  of  Christ's  vineyard,  aud  has  in  consequence  thereof  tendered  hi; 
OF  A  CLERGYMAN  ,  •        /•  .«  •  •  « 

resignation  of  the  rectorship  of  this  parish  ;  and, 

WHEREAS,  We  recognize  a  Divine  influence  in  the  circumstances  which  have  induced  ouf 
beloved  pastor  to  sever  the  ties  which  have  connected  him  with  this  church  and  its  people, 
therefore,  be  it 

Resolved,  That  the  resignation  of  the  Rectorship  of  St.  Andrew's  Parish,  in  the  city  of  Rick- 
mond,  by  the  Rev.  Boanerges  Drumm,  D.D.,  be,  and  hereby  is,  accepted,  to  take  effect  on  the 
first  day  of  May  next. 

Resolved,  That  the  Rev.  Doctor  Boanerges  Drumm  has,  by  courtesy  and  kindness,  by  purity 
of  life  and  doctrine,  and  by  the  faithful  discharge  of  the  duties  pertaining  to  his  holy  office, 
secured  the  love  and  confidence  of  his  people,  which  will  follow  and  be  with  him  in  his  new 
field  of  labor. 

Resolved,  That,  while  Rev.  Dr.  Boanerges  Drumm's  connection  with  this  parish  will  close, 
agreeably  to  his  wishes,  on  the  first  day  of  May  next,  his  salary  will  continue  until  the  last  day 
•f  June  next. 


WHEREAS,  From  the  situation  of  this  town,  the  general  road  law  of  the  State  is  partly  in- 
«ESOLUrONS  OF  applicable  to  us,  and  highly  inefficient,  and  the  circumstances  of  the  case  require  a  specific  law, 
INSTRUCTION  TO  therefore, 

MEMBERS  OF  THE  Be  it  resolved,  by  the  people  of  (he  town  of  Hempstead,  in  town  meeting  assembled,  That  the  Senators 
and  Representatives  of  this  district  in  the  Legislature,  be,  and  hereby  are,  instructed  to  procure 
the  passage  of  a  law  exempting  this  town  from  the  action  of  the  general  road  law,  and  placing 
(the  working  and  repair  of  the  roads  entirely  un,der  the  control  of  the  local 


LEGISLATURE 


456 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 
PETITIONS. 


A  Petition  is  a  memorial  or  request  ad 
dressed  by  the  signers  of  the  paper  to  some 
one  in  authority  over  them,  praying  that  the 
request  set  forth  in  the  paper  may  be  granted. 
A  petition  may  be  either  in  favor  of  a 
measure  or  against  it  In  the  latter  case  it  is 
termed  a  Remonstrance.  In  this  country  the 
persons  to  whom  petitions  are  usually  ad 
dressed  are  the  President  of  the  United 
States,  the  Congress  of  the  United  States, 
Governors  of  States,  the  Legislatures  of  the 
several  States,  and  the  Mayors  of  cities. 
Petitions  are  sometimes  addressed  to  the 
various  courts  on  other  than  purely  legal 
matters. 

A  petition  should  always  commence  with 
vhe  name  and  title  of  the  person  to  whom  it 
is  addressed.  If  to  the  President,  or  to  the 
Governor  of  any  of  the  States  of  the 


Union,  with  the  sole  exception  oi  the  State 
of  Massachusetts,  the  title,  "Your  Excel 
lency,"  or  "His  Excellency,"  should  not  be 
used.  The  Governor  of  Massachusetts  only 
is  entitled  to  be  addressed  as  "Your,"  or 
"His  Excellency."  When  to  Congress,  the 
petition  should  begin,  "To  the  Congress  ol 
the  United  States."  When  to  a  Legislature, 
"To  the  Legislature,"  or  "To  the  General 
Assembly,"  as  may  be  the  custom  in  the 
State. 

When  a  petition  is  addressed  to  a  court,  it 
is  usual  to  accompany  it  with  an  affidavit 
setting  forth  that  the  facts  stated  in  the  peti 
tion  are  known  to  the  signers  to  be  true. 
Such  affidavit,  of  course,  must  be  made  by 
the  petitioners. 

We  give  below  several  forms  of  petitions 
for  the  benefit  of  persons  requiring  them : 


To  JOHN  LEE  C ARRO^I,,  ESQ. ,  Governor  of  the  State  of  Maryland : 

The  Petition  of  the  undersigned  citizens  of  Maryland  respectfully  represents : 

TO  THE  That  Qn  ^  twenty-fifth  day  of  March,  189  ,  Thomas  Brown,  of  the  city  of  Baltimore,  was 
ASKING  FOR  THE  convicted  before  the  Criminal  Court  in  said  city  of  the  crime  of  manslaughter,  and  was  sentenced 
PARDON  OF  A  therefor  to  the  State  prison  at  Baltimore,  where  he  now  remains,  for  the  term  of  ten  years ;  that. 
CONVICT  the  evidence  upon  which  he  was  convicted,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  summary  appended,  was  not 

altogether  conclusive ;  that  previous  to  that  time  the  said  Brown  had  maintained  the  reputation 
of  being  a  peaceable  and  upright  man,  and  a  good  citizen  ;  and  that  his  conduct  since  his  com 
mitment  to  prison,  according  to  the  letter  of  the  Warden,  which  is  herewith  submitted,  has  been 
most  exemplary. 

The  said  Brown  has  a  family  who  need  his  support,  and  under  the  impression  that  the  well- 
being  of  society  will  not  be  injured  by  his  enlargement,  and  that  the  ends  of  justice,  under  the 
circumstances  of  the  case,  have  been  sufficiently  answered,  they  respectfully  implore  the  Execu 
tive  clemency  in  his  behalf. 

BALTIMORE,  May  I,  189  .  {Here follow  the  signatures,} 


PETITION  TO  THE 
LEGISLATURE 
OP  A  STATE 


To  the  Honorable  the  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives  of  the  Commonwealth  of  Virginia, 

in  General  Assembly  convened : 

Your  petitioners,  residents  and  tax-payers  of  the  county  of  Caroline,  respectfully  represent 
to  your  honorable  body  that  the  farmers  of  this  State  are  at  present  subjected  to  a  very  heavy  tax 
upon  their  resources,  by  being  compelled  to  build  thousands  of  miles  offence,  not  for  their  own 
use,  but  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  the  encroachment  of  others.  Millions  of  dollars  are  spent 
by  us  annually  for  this  needless  fencing.  The  man  who  wishes  to  keep  stock  should  fence  in 
the  necessary  pasturage  for  the  same ;  but  it  is  a  great  hardship  to  compel  those  who  do  not  own 
any  considerable  quantity  of  stock  to  keep  up  miles  of  fencing,  which  has  to  be  replaced  at 
frequent  intervals,  so  fast  does  it  go  to  ruin.  The  outlay  forced  upon  us  for  this  purpose  keeps 
many  of  us  poor,  who  might  otherwise  acquire  the  means  of  living  in  comfort. 

We  therefore  respectfully  ask  of  your  honorable  body  that  you  will  at  the  earliest  practicable 


FORMS  FOR  RESOLUTIONS  AND  PETITIONS. 


457 


REMONSTRANCE 
40.AINST  THE. 
iASSAGt  OF 
A  LAW 


POR  OPENING 
A  vSTREET 


ASKING  FOR 
M  POLICEMAN 


EXTERMINATION 
OF  THE  CANADA 
TNWTLfe 


period  etiact  a  law  to  prevent  stock  of  all  kinds  from  running  at  large ;  and  so  grant  to 
petitioners  a  relief  which  cannot  fail  to  materially  advance  the  general  prosperity  of  the  State 

And  your  petitioners,  as  in  duty  bound,  will  ever  pray,  etc. 

{Here  follow  the  signatures.") 

CAROLINE  COUNTY,  VA.,  September  8,  189  . 

To  the  General  Assembly  of  the  State  of  Iowa : 

The  petition  of  the  undersigned,  citizens  of  the  village  of  Port  Kennedy,  respectfully  sets 
forth,  That  they  have  learned  that  a  bill  is  now  before  the  two  Houses  of  Assembly,  for  the 
purpose  of  erecting  the  town  aforesaid  into  a  corporate  borough,  and,  believing  such  a  measure- 
to  be  unnecessary  and  injurious,  and  against  the  will  of  the  inhabitants  in  the  limits  of  the 
proposed  borough,  respectfully,  but  energetically,  remonstrate  against  its  passage  by  you* 
honorable  body. 

And  your  petitioners,  as  in  duty  bound,  will  ever  pray,  etc. 

{Here  follow  the  signatures.) 


-,  IN  COMMON  COUNCIE, 


To  THE  MAYOR  AND  ALDERMEN  OF  THE  CITY  OF 

ASSEMBLED  : 

Gentlemen : — The  undersigned  respectfully  solicit  your  honorable  body  to  open  and  extend 
Walnut  street,  which  now  terminates  at  Adams  street,  through  blocks  Nos.  10  and  12  in  Hall's 
addition  to ,  to  Benton  street,  thereby  making  Walnut  a  nearly  straight  and  con 
tinuous  street  for  two  miles,  and  greatly  accommodating  the  people  in  that  portion  of  the  city. 
(Here  insert  city,  state,  and  date.) 

[Signed  by  two  hundred  tax-payers,  more  or  less^\ 

To  THE  MAYOR  AND  ALDERMEN  OF  THE  CITY  OF 

ASSEMBLED  : 

Gentlemen : — The  undersigned  citizens  and  tax  payers  of  — — — 


-,  IN  COMMON  COUNCII 


-,  feeling  that  life  an<? 


property  are  very  insecure  after  dark  in  portions  of  this  town,  respectfully  ask  your  honorable 
body  to  appoint  a  night  policeman  to  have  supervision  of  the  streets  and  alleys  from  Harrisor- 
to  Walnut  streets,  on  Broadway. 

(Here  give  city,  state,  and  date.) 

[Signed  by  one  hundred  tax-payers  ,  more  or  /«$.] 

To  THE  HONORABLE  THE  SENATE  AND  HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES  OF  THK  STATE  o* 

--  ,  IN  LEGISLATURE  CONVENED  : 

The  undersigned,  citizens  of  --  County,  respectfully  represent  that  this,  and 
,  are  becoming  infested  with  that  pest,  the  Canada  thistle.     As  yet  they  are 


not  in  sufficient  quantity  to  be  beyond  control,  but  it  is  feared  if  they  are  allowed  to  go  without 
restraint  two  years  longer,  they  will  be  so  spread  as  to  make  their  extermination  next  to  impos 
sible.  We,  therefore,  respectfully  request  your  honorable  body  to  take  some  action  looking  to 
their  immediate  subjection,  thus  saving  the  farming  community  from  an  evil  which  cannot  bo 
removed  if  allowed  to  exist  much  longer. 
(Here  give  county,  state,  and  date.) 

[Signed  by  one  thousand  farmers  ,  more  0r  Uss.*\ 


CHAPTER  XUI. 


How  to  Conduct  Public  Celebrations. 


kUBLIC    CELEBRATIONS    may    be 
held  by  the  citizens  of  a  city,  town, 
or  village,  as  a  whole  people ;  or  by 
societies  or  clubs. 

The  chief  public  celebration  in  this  country 
is  held  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  or  Independ 
ence  Day.  In  former  years  it  was  the  custom 
to  celebrate  Washington's  Birthday  (February 
22d),  but  this  patriotic  observance  has  been 
almost  entirely  discontinued. 

Should  the  celebration  be  conducted  by 
the  citizens  at  large,  a  public  meeting  should 
be  held  some  weeks  in  advance,  at  which  a 
Committee  of  Arrangements  should  be  ap 
pointed  to  make  provision  for  the  various 
portions  of  the  celebration. 
Committees. 

The  Committee  of  Arrangements  should 
meet  as  soon  as  practicable  after  its  appoint 
ment.  A  chairman  and  secretary  should  be 
elected,  after  which  the  chairman  should  ap 
point  the  various  sub-committees,  whose  duty 
it  is  to  arrange  the  various  details  of  the  cele 
bration.  These  sub-committees  should  be  as 
follows: 

Committee  on  Correspondence. — This  com 
mittee  is  charged  with  the  duty  of  inviting 
such  distinguished  guests  as  may  be  desirable. 

Committee  on  Finance. — This  committee 
Solicits  subscriptions  of  money,  and  manages 
the  expenditure  of  it. 

Committee  on  Place. — This  committee 
engages  a  suitable  hall,  or,  if  the  celebration 
is  to  be  held  in  the  open  air,  secures  suitable 
grounds,  and  attends  to  the  erection  of 
stands,  etc. 
458 


Committee  on  Orator. — This  committee 
secures  an  orator  for  the  occasion  and  also  a 
reader  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence, 
or  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
where  it  is  desired  to  have  these  documents 
read,  and  great  care  should  be  taken  to  select 
some  one  known  to  be  a  good  reader,  in 
order  that  full  effect  may  be  given  to  the 
documents  to  be  read,  as  a  bad  reader  will 
only  mar  the  ceremonies. 

Committee  on  Music. — This  committee 
provides  the  vocal  or  instrumental  music  for 
the  occasion. 

Committee  on  Printing. — This  committee 
attends  to  the  proper  advertising  of  the  cele 
bration,  and  provides  programmes  and  such 
other  printed  matter  as  may  be  needed  for 
the  occasion. 

Other  sub-committees  may  be  appointed 
to  take  charge  of  such  other  details  as  may 
need  providing  for.  All  sub-committees  are 
under  the  control  of  the  Committee  of  Ar 
rangements,  and  must  report  to  it  at  its 
regular  meetings.  The  Committee  of  Ar 
rangements  may  accept  or  reject  the  acts  of 
sub-committees. 

The  programme,  or  order  of  exercises  for 
the  celebration,  should  be  carefully  prepared 
beforehand,  and  should  be  rigidly  adhered  to. 
Public  Dinners. 

Public  dinners  are  given  in  honor  of  some 
public  or  social  anniversary,  or  of  some  dis 
tinguished  person.  They  may  be  given  by 
the  citizens  of  a  place  at  large,  or  by  any 
number  of  them,  by  a  political  party,  3 
society,  or  a  club, 


HOW  TO  CONDUCT  PUBLIC  CELEBRATIONS. 


459 


The  first  step  is,  as  in  the  case  of  a  public 
meeting,  to  appoint  a  Committee  of  Arrange 
ments,  which  attends  to  all  the  preparations 
for  the  dinner. 

If  the  dinner  is  to  be  given  to  a  particular 
person,  a  formal  invitation,  tendering  him 
this  honor,  should  be  addressed  to  him, 
signed  by  as  many  persons  as  possible. 
Should  the  person  accept  the  invitation,  he 
may  either  name  the  day  or  leave  it  to  the 
persons  tendering  the  dinner  to  fix  the  date. 
In  the  latter  case,  the  Committee  of  Arrange 
ments  call  upon  him  and  arrange  a  date  best 
suited  to  his  convenience. 

It  is  the  custon  to  issue  tickets  to  a  public 
dinner,  except  to  invited  guests.  These 
tickets  are  sold  at  a  fixed  price,  the  money 
thus  received  being  devoted  to  paying  for 
the  entertainment. 

Should  the  occasion  be  one  of  importance, 
written  invitations  are  despatched  to  distin 
guished  persons  in  other  places.  It  is  not 
to  be  expected  that  all  can  accept,  but  their 
replies,  which  are  read  at  the  close  of  the 
entertainment,  furnish  a  very  pleasant  feature 
of  the  occasion. 

Seating  the  Guests. 

The  guests  assemble  in  one  of  the  rooms 
provided  for  the  occasion,  and,  when  dinner 
is  announced,  enter  the  dining-room  and 
proceed  to  the  places  assigned  them.  The 
best  plan  is  to  place  a  card  with  the  name  of 
the  person  on  the  table  at  the  place  he'  is  to 
occupy.  Where  there  is  more  than  one  table, 
the  President  seats  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
principal  table,  and  the  Vice-President  takes 
his  place  at  the  foot.  A  Vice-President  is 
placed  at  the  head  of  each  of  the  other  tables. 

If  possible,  the  table  should  be  arranged 
in  the  shape  of  a  T,  with  the  principal  guest 
at  the  right  hand  of  the  President. 

The  company  stand  by  their  chairs,  keep 
ing  their  eyes  fixed  upon  the  President.  As 


soon  as  he  takes  his  seat,  they  seat  til  imseives 
Then  the  principal  guest  is  escorted  to  his  seat 
by  a  committee  appointed  for  that  purpose 
As  he  enters  the  room,  the  President  and  all 
the  company  rise,  and  remain  standing  until 
the  guest  of  the  day  has  taken  his  seat,  when 
they  resume  their  chairs.  The  President 
the*  gives  a  signal,  and  the  waiters  serve 
the  dinner. 

The  Regular  Toasts. 

When  the  last  course  has  been  served  and 
partaken  of,  the  cloth  is  removed,  and  ihf> 
K^ident  proceeds  to  read  the  regular  toasts, 
which  have  been  prepared  beforehand  by  one 
of  the  sub-committees.  At  dinners  on  the 
Fourth  of  July,  or  anniversaries  connected 
with  public  matters,  the  number  of  regular 
toasts  is  thirteen,  commemorative  of  the 
original  number  of  States.  It  is  not  neces 
sary  to  have  so  many  on  ordinary  occasions. 
But  there  are  certain  toasu.-T  given  in  certain 
order,  which  are  never  to  be  omitted.  The 
first  toast  is  to  the  day  celebrated,  if  it  be  a 
particular  day.  If  not,  what  would  be  th$ 
second  toast,  "The  President  of  the  United 
States,"  becomes  the  first.  This  toast  is 
always  to  be  received  with  applause,  even  if 
the  party  dining  be  politically  opposed  to 
him,  because  the  toast  is  to  the  office,  and 
not  the  man.  The  next  in  order  is  to  the 
Governor  of  the  State ;  and  the  next  is  to 
the  invited  guest,  if  there  be  one.  The  last 
toast  is  always  given  to  the  opposite  sex. 

After  the  President  has  read  the  toasts, 
the  Vice-President,  at  the  other  end  of  the 
table,  who  should  be  furnished  with  a  copy, 
also  reads  aloud.  The  guests,  as  they  an 
about  to  drink  it,  repeat  it,  or  part  of  it 
aloud. 

If  the  guest  be  toasted,  it  being  personal, 
every  one  rises  and  drinks  standing,  follow 
ing  their  drinking  by  applause.  If,  how 
ever,  the  personal  fc^t  be  to  anj  who  are 


460 


BUSINESS  RULES  AND  FORMS. 


dead,  although  all  rise,  they  drink  the  toast 
and  resume  their  seats  in  perfect  silence. 

The  guest  of  the  evening,  having  been 
toasted,  is  expected  to  reply,  which  he  does 
so  soon  as  the  party  has  seated  itself,  after 
it  has  drunk  the  toast.  As  he  rises,  the 
President  does  the  same,  mentions  his  name, 
and  resumes  his  own  seat  until  the  guest 
has  closed. 

Volunteer  Toasts. 

The  regular  toasts  being  through,  volun 
teer  ones  are  in  order. 

If  it  be  desired  that  any  one  should  speak, 
the  usual  course  is  to  propose  a  toast  in  his 
honor.  After  this  has  been  done,  it  is  ex 
pected  that  he  will  rise,  return  thanks,  and 
make  such  proper  remarks  as  will  please 
the  company. 

If,  after  the  cloth  has  been  removed,  a 
song  be  desired  from  any  one,  his  name  is 
called  out — Mr.  (naming  him)  for  a  song. 

The   President  then   repeats:   "Mr. is 

called  upon  for  a  song."     If  the  party  is  in 
voice  at  all,  his  best  plan  is  to  rise  and 


sing  at  once ;  if  not,  he  will  rise,  excuse 
himself,  and  offer  a  sentiment,  or  tell  a 
story. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  entertainment, 
the  President  will  leave  his  seat  and  call  a 
Vice-President,  or  some  other  gentleman,  tc 
it;  and  the  company  will  keep  the  fun  going 
as  long  as  they  think  proper. 

When  the  principal  guest  leaves,  the  com 
pany  will  rise,  and  remain  standing  until 
he  has  left  the  room. 

As  the  President  is  responsible  for  the 
good  ordei  and  harmony  of  the  occasion, 
the  company  are  bound  by  the  strictest  obli 
gation  of  honor  to  obey  his  directions  and 
carry  out  his  wishes  in  all  things. 

Formerly,  at  these  public  dinners,  men 
drank  to  excess.  To  do  this  now  is  con 
sidered  ill-bred.  Indeed,  no  guest  need  drink 
at  all,  unless  he  chooses.  He  should  keep  a 
glass  of  wine  before  him,  and  raise  it  to 
his  lips  at  every  toast;  but,  if  he  should 
not  choose  to  drink,  good  manners  require 
that  no  one  should  note  his  abstinence. 


A  GROUP  OF   BENEDICT   COLLEGE   GIRLS. 


GRADUATING   CLASS,   RICHMOND   THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARS. 


BOOK  V 

Manual  of  Practical  Suggestions  and  Useful 
Information  for  the  Home  and  School. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 


The  Art  of  Writing  Well,  Showing  How  to  Acquire  c 

Good  Hand- Writing,  and  How  to  Express  Written 

Thoughts  in  a  Correct  Manner. 


JIITING  is  the  art  of  expressing 
ideas  by  visible  signs  or  characters 
inscribed  on  some  material.  It  is 
either  ideographic  or  phonetic.  Ideographic 
writing  may  be  either  pictorial,  representing 
objects  by  imitating  their  forms,  or  symbolic, 
by  indicating  their  nature  or  proportions. 
Phonetic  writing  may  be  syllabic  or  alpha 
betic;  in  the  former,  each  character  repre 
sents  a  syllable ;  in  the  latter,  a  single  letter. 
The  first  mention  of  written  letters  of 
which  we  have  any  record  is  in  the  account 
given  in  the  Book  of  Exodus  of  the  Tables 
of  the  Law.  We  are  told  that  the  Ten 
Commandments  were  written  by  the  finger 
of  God  on  tables  or  tablets  of  stone.  This 
statement  has  led  some  writers,  among  them 
the  learned  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  to  believe  that 
letters  were  Divinely  invented  upon  this 
^ccasion.  There  is  no  necessity,  however, 
-  taking  this  view  of  the  case ;  for  at  the 
time  of  the  "Giving  of  the  Law,"  a  written 
language  belonged  to  each  of  the  nations 
on  the  southern  shore  of  the  Mediterranean. 


The  Phoenician  alphabet,  upon  which 
that  of  the  Hebrews  was  modelled,  had  beei; 
in  existence  for  several  centuries  before  thii' 
time,  and  as  Phoenicia  was  then  a  dependency 
of  Egypt,  and  engaged  in  active  commerce 
with  that  country,  Moses  was  doubtless 
acquainted  with  the  Phoenician  system. 
The  fact  that  the  Hebrew  alphabet  was 
modelled  upon  the  Phoenician  seems  almost 
a  positive  proof  of  this  theory. 

The  early  history  of  the  alphabet  has  to 
be  reconstructed  from  inscriptions,  as  noth 
ing  in  the  shape  of  manuscripts  are  now  in 
existence  to  tell  us  what  were  the  forms  oi 
the  letters.  These  are  handed  down  in 
bronze  and  stone. 

The  date  of  the  invention  of  the  Phoenician 
alphabet,  which  was  the  first  purely  phonetic 
system  ever  used,  is  now  definitely  settled. 
It  was  during  the  supremacy  of  the  Shep 
herd  Kings  over  Egypt.  These  were  princes 
of  Canaanitish  origin,  who  had  conquered 
Lower  Egypt,  and  were  contemporary  with 
Abraham,  Isaac,  Jacob  and  Joseph.  The 

4.61 


'  462 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


discoveries  of  science  give  us  reason  to 
believe  that  it  was  the  Shepherd  Kings  of 
Avaris,  who  borrowed  from  the  Egyptian 
hieratic  writing  a  certain  number  of  alpha 
betical  characters,  employed  them  to  re 
present  the  sounds  of  their  own  language, 
and  thus  produced  the  Phoenician  alphabet 
of  twenty-two  letters,  the  origin  of  most  of 
the  other  alphabets  of  the  world.  The 
Phoenicians  not  only  invented  the  alphabet ; 
they  taught  the  use  of  it  to  all  nations  with 
whom  they  had  commercial  transactions. 

With  the  progress  of  the  world,  the  art  of 
writing  and  the  characters  employed  were 
greatly  simplified,  until  the  system  in  use  at 
present  was  adopted  b)  the  civilized  nations 
of  the  world. 

Penmanship  is  the  art  of  writing  well. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  important  accomplish 
ments  a  person  can  possess.  No  matter  what 
/our  position  in  life,  the  ability  to  write  a 
£ood;  clear,  legible  hand,  is  a  priceless  pos 
session.  To  a  young  man  starting  out  to 
inake  his  way  in  life,  it  is  so  much  genuine 
uamt^l,  which  he  can  turn  to  advantage  at 
almost  every  step.  The  great  object  should 
be  to  write  a  firm,  clear  hand,  with  uniformly 
made,  well-shaped,  and  properly  shaded 
letters.  An  abundance  of  flourishes  or 
marks  is  a  defect,  except  where  ornamental 
writing  or  "flourishing"  is  intended. 

The  present  system  of  forming  and  com 
bining  letters  seems  to  be  perfect.  It  enables 
the  writer  to  put  his  thoughts  on  paper 
almost  with  the  rapidity  of  speech,  and  it  is 
not  probable  that  it  will  ever  be  improved 
upon. 

i  In  this  country  two  styles  of  penmanship 
are  in  use.  One  is  known  as  the  round 
hand,  the  other  as  the  angular.  A  new  sys 
tem,  known  as  the  semi-angular,  has  been 
introduced,  mainly  through  the  efforts  of  the 
Spencers,  and  of  Payson,  Dunton  and 


Scribner,  and  is  winning  its  way  to  favor. 
The  "copy  books"  prepared  by  these  masters 
present  the  best  and  most  progressive  system 
of  penmanship  now  accessible  to  the  learner, 
and  we  cordially  commend  them  to  all. 

Practice  Necessary. 

The  only  way  in  which  a  person  can 
acquire  the  art  of  writing  a  good  hand  is  by 
constant  and  conscientious  practice.  With 
some  persons  good  penmanship  is  a  gift,  but 
all  may  acquire  it  by  persistent  practice. 
Select  a  good  system  of  copies — the  series 
referred  to  above  cannot  be  improved  upon 
—and  try  faithfully  to  form  your  hand  upon 
the  model  selected.  Do  not  be  satisfied  until 
you  can  do  as  well  as  the  master  you  are 
seeking  to  imitate. 

Writing   Materials. 

It  is  of  the  greatest  importance  that  the 
writing  materials  used  by  you  shculu  be  of 
the  best  quality. 

The  pen  should  be  of  steel  or  of  gold. 
Many  persons  prefer  the  gold  pen,  because  it 
more  nearly  approaches  the  quill  in  flexi 
bility.  It  is  also  the  most  durable  pen.  A 
good  gold  pen,  properly  used,  should  last  for 
years.  For  general  use,  and  especially  for 
ornamental  writing,  a  good  steel  pen  is  by 
far  the  best.  It  enables  you  to  make  a  finer 
and  sharper  line  than  can  possibly  be  made 
with  the  gold  or  quill  pen. 

The  paper  should  be  of  the  best  quality 
and  texture,  clearly  ruled,  and  not  too 
rough  in  surface.  It  is  most  common  now 
to  use  copy  books,  regularly  prepared  and 
ruled.  It  is  a  good  plan,  after  you  have 
completed  a  copy  book,  to  go  over  the  same 
set  of  copies  again.  This  may  be  done  by 
taking  half  a  dozen  sheets  of  foolscap  and 
cutting  them  in  half.  Place  the  half  sheets 
within  each  other,  and  stitch  them  together, 
protecting  the  whole  with  a  cover  of 


AR".  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


463 


paper.  Then  use  the  copies  of  the  book 
you  have  just  finished,  writing  on  the  new 
book  you  have  thus  made. 

Blotters  and  Ink. 

A  slip  of  blotting-paper  should  be  pro 
vided  for  every  copy  book.  In  writing 
rest  the  hand  upon  this,  especially  in  warm 
weather.  The  perspiration  thrown  off  by 
the  hand  is  greasy  in  its  nature,  and  soils  the 
paper  upon  which  the  hand  rests,  and  renders 
it  unfit  to  receive  the  ink. 

Never  use  poor  ink.  Black  ink  should 
always  be  used  in  learning  to  write,  and  in 
ordinary  correspondence.  Blue  and  red  inks 
are  designed  for  special  purposes,  and  not  for 
ordinary  use.  An  ink  that  flows  freely  and 
is  nearly  black  when  first  used  is  best.  Do 
not  use  a  shallow  or  light  inkstand.  The 
first  will  not  allow  you  to  fill  your  pen 
properly;  the  latter  will  be  easily  turned 
over.  The  inkstand  should  be  heavy  and 
flat,  and  of  such  a  form  that  you  can  at  once 
see  the  amount  of  ink  in  it,  and  thus  knov 
how  deep  to  dip  your  pen.  Dip  your  pen 
lightly  into  the  ink,  and  see  that  it  does  not 
take  up  too  much.  The  surplus  ink  should 
be  thrown  back  into  the  inkstand,  and  not 
upon  the  floor.  By  stopping  the  mouth  of 
the  bottle  when  you  have  finished  using  it, 
you  will  prevent  the  ink  from  evaporating 
tcK.  fast,  and  also  from  becoming  too  thick. 

A  pei:  wiper  should  always  be  provided. 
This  should  be  of  some  substance  that  will 
not  leave  a  fibre  in  the  slit  of  the  pen.  A 
linen  rag  or  a  piece  of  chamois  or  buckskin 
will  answer. 

Position  of  the  Writer. 

After  you  have  learned  to  write,  it  is  well 
to  provide  your  desk  with  a  lead  pencil,  a 
piece  of  India  rubber,  a  ruler,  and  a  bottle  of 
mucilage  and  a  brush. 

In  writing  in  a  sitting  position,  a  flat  table 
is  the  best. 


The  position  of  the  writer  is  a  matter  of 
the  greatest  importance,  as  it  decides  his 
comfort  at  the  time,  and  exercises  a  powerful 
influence  upon  his  general  health. 

The  main  object  is  to  acquire  an  easy  and 
graceful  position,  one  in  which  the  right 
arm  has  full  play  of  the  muscles  used  in 
writing. 

The  table  should  be  sufficiently  high  to 
compel  you  to  sit  upright.  Avoid  stooping, 
as  destructive  of  a  good  hand  and  of  good 
health.  Your  position  should  be  such  as  will 
enable  you  to  fill  your  lungs  without  much 


CORRECT  POSITION  OF  A  LADY  IN  WRITING. 

effort.  Sit  with  your  right  side  next  to  the 
desk  or  table,  and  in  such  a  position  that  the 
light  will  fall  over  your  right  shoulder  upon 
the  paper. 

The  right  forearm  must  be  placed  on  the 
desk  so  as  to  rest  the  muscle  front  of  the 
elbow,  and  the  hand  placed  on  the  book  so 
as  to  rest  the  nails  of  the  third  and  fourth 
fingers. 

The  forearm  must  be  at  right  angles  with 
the  copy,  the  book  being  steadied  by  the 
fingers  of  the  left  hand  placed  on  the  paper  at 
the  left  of  the  pen  point.  Hold  the  wrist 
naturally  ever  the  desk,  and  you  will  see  that 
the  inner  side  is  raised  a  little  higher  than 


V 


464 


ART    OF   WRITING   WELL. 


465 


fche  outer.  Keep  the  wrist  free  from  the  desk, 
and  do  not  let  it  turn  over  to  the  right  or  the 
left,  or  bend  down  or  up,  or  otherwise. 

How  to  Hold  the  Pen. 

Hold  the  pen  lightly  between  the  thumb 
and  first  two  fingers,  letting  it  cross  the 
forefinger  in  front  of  the  third  joint.  Rest 
the  base  of  the  holder  at  the  nail  of  the 
middle  finger.  Place  the  forefinger  over  the 
holder.  Bend  the  thumb  and  fingers  out 
ward,  and  the  third  and  fourth  fingers  under 
to  rest  the  hand  on  the  nails.  Let  the  nibs 
of  the  pen  press  the  paper  evenly. 

The  movements  in  writing  are  produced 
by  the  extension  and  retraction  of  the  pen- 
fingers  and  the  thumb  ;  by  the  action  of  the 
forearm  on  the  arm-rest  as  a  centre  of  motion ; 
the  whole  arm  movement,  which  is  the 
action  of  the  whole  arm  from  the  shoulder 
as  the  centre  of  motion  ;  and  the  union  of  all 

these  move 
ments.  In  or 
dinary  writing, 
the  first  is  suffi 
cient.  In  orna 
mental  writing, 
flourishin  g, 
etc.,  all  the 
various  move 
ments  are  em 
ployed. 

The    fingers 
should  be  kept 
flexible,    and 
their    move 
ments  as  well  as 
those  of  the 
hand  and  wrist, 
should  be  free 
and  unrestrain 
ed.     Cramping  or  stiffening  either  the  fingers 
or  the   wrist   causes    the    handwriting   to   be 
30C 


INCORRECT  MODE  OF  HOLDING 
THE  PEN. 


PROPER.  MODE  OF   HOLDING 
THE  PEN. 


CORRECT  POSITION  OF  THE  HAND. 


cramped  and  awkward,  and  greatly  fatigues 
the  writer.  The  pen  should  be  held  as 
lightly  as  though  the  least  pressure  would 
crush  it,  and  not  grasped  as  though  you 
thought  it  would  fly  away. 

The  Standing  Position. 

In  standing  at  a  desk  to  write,  stand  up 
right,  and  with  the  chest  well  thrown  out. 
The  desk  should  be  high  enough  to  compel 
you  to  do  this.  It  should  slightly  incline 
from  the  outer  edge  upwards,  and  should 
project  far  enough  to  allow  you  to  place 
your  feet  well  under  it.  The  principal  weight 
of  the  body  should  rest  upon  the  left  foot, 
the  right  being  thrown  forward.  Stand  with 
your  left  side  toward  the  desk,  and  rest 
your  body  on  the  left  elbow,  which  should 
be  laid  upon  the  desk  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
enable  you  to  steady  your  paper  or  book 
with  the  left  hand.  This  position  will  enable 
you  to  write  freely  in  the  ordinary  manner, 
or  to  use  the  whole  forearm  should  you 
desire  to  do  so.  The  pen-holder  should 
point  towards  the  right  shoulder. 

A  great  saving  of  fatigue  is  made  by 
assuming  and  keeping  a  correct  position 
while  writing  either  sitting  or  standing.  By 
conscientiously  attending  to  this  matter,  you 
will  soon  acquire  the  habit  of  maintaining 
a  correct  position,  and  will  reap  the  benefit 
in  the  ease  with  which  you  perform  your 
task,  and  in  improved  health. 

No  one  should  be  satisfied  with  a  bad 
handwriting  when  it  is  in  his  power  to  im 
prove  it.  Any  one  can  procure  a  copy 
book,  and  can  spare  an  hour,  or  half  an 
hour,  a  day  for  this  effort  at  improvement. 
You  should  begin  at  the  beginning,  and 
practise  faithfully  until  you  have  reached  a 
satisfactory  result.  Remember  that  a  good 
hand  is  not  acquired  in  a  week  or  a  month ; 
it  takes  long  and  diligent  practice  to  produce 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


46; 


this  result.     The  end,  however,  is  worth  all 
the  labor  necessary  to  its  accomplishment. 
Plain  Writing1  Always  the  Best. 

The  great  aim  should  be  to  make  the 
handwriting  legible.  An  ornamental  hand 
is  very  attractive,  but  it  may  be  this  and  yet 
not  easily  read.  This  is  to  fail  in  the  first 
requisite  of  good  writing. 

The  advantages  of  writing  well  are 
numerous,  and  will  readily  suggest  them 
selves.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  always  a 
pleasure  to  prepare  a  plainly  and  neatly- 
written  letter  or  paper.  The  writer  is  then 
never  afraid  or  ashamed  for  his  friends  to  see 
his  writing,  and  is  never  disgraced  by  a 
wretched  scrawl  in  addressing  a  letter  to  a 
stranger. 

A  good  hand  is  also  an  invaluable  aid  to  a 
young  man  seeking  employment.  A  mer 
chant  in  employing  clerks  and  salesmen  will 
always  give  the  preference  to  the  best  pen 
man.  A  young  man  applying  by  letter  for 
a  situation  can  scarcely  offer  a  better  refer 
ence  than  the  appearance  of  his  letter. 
Should  you  wish  to  become  a  book-keeper  or 
accountant,  a  good  handwriting  is  a  neces 
sity. 

How  to  Spell  Correctly. 

Whether  a  person  is  a  good  penman  or 
not,  it  is  necessary  that  he  should  know  how 
to  make  use  of  his  ability  to  write,  or,  in 
other  words,  how  to  transfe'  corectly  his 
thoughts  to  paper. 

The  first  requisite  is  to  know  how  to  spell 
correctly.  This  is  even  more  important 
than  writing  a  good  hand.  A  badly-spelled 
letter  is  much  more  of  a  disgrace  to  the 
writer  than  one  badly  written.  The  habit 
of  spelling  correctly  may  be  easily  acquired, 
and  once  mastered  is  rarely  lost.  Our 
language  is  so  rich  in  words  that  even  the 
best  of  spellers  may  sometimes  be  unable  to 
give  the  proper  orthography  of  a  word,  but 


the  knowledge  of  the  general  principles 
which  govern  the  formation  of  English 
words  will  enable  him  to  meet  all  the  ordi 
nary  demands  likely  to  be  made  upon  him, 
These  may  be  found  in  almost  any  spelling- 
book,  or  work  upon  the  principles  of  com 
position.  It  is  well,  however,  to  give  a  few 
of  the  most  important  here.  We  may  remark, 
in  passing,  that  writing  words  out  in  full  on 
paper,  or  on  a  slate,  is  an  admirable  means  of 
impressing  them  upon  the  memory. 

All  words  of  one  syllable  ending  in  /,  with 
a  single  vowel  before  it,  have  double  /  at  the 
close:  as  mill,  sell. 

All  words  of  one  syllable  ending  in  /, 
with  a  double  vowel  before  it,  have  one  / 
only  at  the  close :  as  mail,  sail. 

Words  of  more  than  one  syllable  ending 
in  /,  when  compounded,  retain  but  one  / 
each :  as,  fulfil,  skilful. 

Words  of  more  than  one  syllable  ending 
in  /,  have  one  /  only  at  the  close :  as,  delight- 
fid,  faithful,-  except  befall,  downfall,  recall, 
unwell,  etc. 

All  derivations  from  words  ending  in  / 
have  one  /  only :  as,  equality,  from  equal  / 
fulness,  from  full,'  except  they  end  in  er  or 
ly:  as,  mill,  miller  /  full,  fully. 

All  participles  in  ing  from  verbs  ending  in 
e  lose  the  c  final:  as,  have,  having /  amuse, 
amusing  •  unless  they  come  from  verbs  end 
ing  in  double  c,  and  then  they  retain  both: 
as,  see,  seeing,-  agree,  agreeing. 

All  adverbs  in  ly  and  nouns  in  merit  retain 
the  c  final  of  the  primitives:  as,  brave, 
bravely ;  refine,  refinement ;  except  acknowl 
edgment  and  judgment. 

All  derivations  from  words  ending  in  er 
retain  the  c  before  the  •/-  .•  as,  refer,  reference  ,- 
except  hindrance',  from  hinder  /  remembrance^ 
from  remember ;  disastrous,  from  disaster  / 
monstrous,  from  monster;  wondrous,  from 
wonder  •  n/m^rous,  from  cumber,  etc. 


^fJXoT^//^7^ 


i^r-i 


«es 


ART  OF  WRITING  \ 


469 


Compound  words,  if  both  end  not  in  /, 
?;;;ain  their  primitive  parts  entire  :  as,  mill 
stone,  changeable,  raceless ;  except  always, 
also,  deplorable,  although,  almost,  admirable, 
etc. 

All  one-syllables  ending  in  a  consonant, 
with  a  single  vowel  before  it,  double  that 
consonant  in  derivatives  ;  as  sin,  sinner ; 
ship,  sJ lipping ;  big,  bigger ;  glad,  gladder ; 
etc. 

One-syllables  ending  in  a  consonant,  with 
a  double  vowel  before  it,  do  not  double  the 
consonant  in  derivatives:  as,  sleep,  sleeper ,- 
troop,  trooper 

All  words  of  more  than  one  syllable  end 
ing  in  a  single  consonant,  preceded  by  a 
single  vowel,  and  accented  on  the  last  syllable, 
double  that  consonant  in  derivatives:  as, 
commit,  committee  •  compel,  compelled ',•  appal, 
appalling  ,•  distil,  distiller. 

Nouns  of  one  syllable  ending  in  y,  pre 
ceded  by  a  consonant,  change  y  into  ies  in 
the  plural;  and  verbs  ending  in  y,  preceded 
by  a  consonant,  change  y  into  ies  in  the 
third  person  singular  of  the  present  tense, 
and  into  ied  in  the  past  tense  and  past 
participle:  v&,  fly,  flies,-  I  apply,  he  applies  • 
z°je  reply,  we  replied,  or  have  replied.  If  the 
y  be  preceded  by  a  vowel,  this  rule  is  not 
applicable  :  as,  key,  keys  /  /  play,  he  plays  / 
we  have  enjoyed  ourselves. 

Compound  words  whose  primitives  end  in 
y,  change  y  into  i:  as,  beauty,  beautiful  / 
lovely,  loveliness. 

How  to  Use  Capital  Letters. 
It  is   an  excellent  plan  to  keep  a   small 
dictionary  at  hand,  in  order  that  you  may 
refer  at  once  to  the  word  if  you  are  in  doubt 
as  to  its  orthography.     The  standard  recog-  I 
nized  in  the  United  States  is  either  Worcester  j 
or  Webster.     Johnson's  is  good,  or  Walker's,  j 
and  for  students'  use,  Stormonth's  is  available 
and  \iandy. 


There  is  no  surer  mark  of  an  educated 
person  than  the  proper  use  ot  capital  letters. 
To  omit  them  when  they  should  be  used  is 
a  serious  blunder,  and  to  make  too  profuse  a 
display  of  them  is  to  disfigure  your  writing, 
and  proclaim  yourself  ignorant  of  one  of  the 
first  principles  of  correct  writing. 

The  rules  governing  the  use  of  these  let 
ters  are  few,  simple,  and  easily  remembered. , 
They  may  be  stated  as  follows  : 

The  first  word  of  every  book,  chapter, 
letter,  note,  or  any  other  piece  of  writing 
should  begin  with  a  capital  letter. 

The  names  of  the  months  and  the  days  of 
the  week  should  always  begin  with  a  capital 
letter. 

The  first  word  after  a  period  should  begin 
with  a  capital  letter. 

The  first  word  after  every  interrogation, 
or  exclamation,  should  begin  with  a  capital 
letter;  unless  a  number  of  interrogative  or 
exclamatory  sentences  occur  together,  and 
are  not  totally  independent. 

The  various  names  or  appellations  of  the 
Deity  should  begin  with  a  capital  letter:  as, 
God,  Jehovah,  the  Almighty,  the  Supreme 
Being,  the  Lord,  Providence,  the  Messiah, 
the  Holy  Spirit,  etc. 

All  proper  names,  such  as  the  names  of 
persons,  places,  streets,  mountains,  lakes, 
rivers,  ships,  etc.,  and  adjectives  derived 
from  them,  should  begin  with  a  capital  letter. 

The  first  word  of  a  quotation  after  a  colon, 
or  when  it  is  in  direct  form,  should  begin 
with  a  capital  letter. 

The  first  word  of  an  example,  every  sub 
stantive  and  principal  word  in  the  titles  of 
books,  and  the  first  word  of  every  line  in 
poetry,  should  begin  with  a  capital  letter. 

The  pronoun  I,  and  the  interjection  O,  are 
always  written  in  capitals. 

Any  words,  when  remarkably  emphatic, 
or  when  they  are  the  principal  subject  of  the 


a: 
O 
u_ 
O 

z 

LU 


i7U 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


471 


composition,  may  begin  with  capitals.     The 
observance  of  these  rules  is  important. 

How  to  Punctuate  Correctly. 

A  knowledge  of  punctuation  is  very  im 
portant.  A  document  not  punctuated,  or 
not  punctuated  properly,  may  present  a  neat 
appearance  if  written  in  a  good  hand  and 
correctly  spelled,  but  its  value  may  often  be 
entirely  destroyed  by  incorrect  punctuation. 
A  notable  instance  of  this  occurred  in  Eng 
land,  and  is  thus  noticed  in  the  London 
7^i  Dies  : 

"The  contract  lately  made  for  lighting 
the  town  of  Liverpool,  during  the  ensuing 
year,  has  been  thrown  void  by  the  misplac 
ing  of  a  comma  in  the  advertisement,  which 
ran  thus :  '  The  lamps  at  present  are  about 
4050  in  number,  and  have  in  general  two 
spouts  each,  composed  of  not  less  than  twenty 
threads  of  cotton. '  The  contractor  would  have 
proceeded  to  furnish  each  lamp  with  the  said 
twenty  threads;  but,  this  being  but  half  the 
usual  quantity,  the  commissioner  discovered 
that  the  difference  arose  from  the  comma 
following,  instead  of  preceding  the  word 
each.  The  parties  agreed  to  annul  the  con 
tract,  and  a  new  one  was  ordered." 
Punctuation  Marks. 

A  Mr.  Sharpe  once  engraved  a  portrait  of  a 
certain  Richard  Brothers,  and  gave  the  fol 
lowing  certificate  to  that  effect.  The  docu 
ment  was  designed  as  a  simple  statement  of 
fact.  The  misplacement  of  a  comma,  how 
ever  converted  it  into  a  piece  of  gross  pro 
fanity.  It  read  as  follows :  "  Believing 
Richard  Brothers  to  be  a  prophet  sent,  by 
God  I  have  engraved  his  portrait."  Had  the 
comma  been  placed  after  the  name  of  the 
Deity,  the  effect  would  have  been  very  dif 
ferent. 

Punctuation  is  the  art  of  dividing  a  written 
composition  into  sentences ;  and  is  princi 


pally  used  to  mark  the  grammatical  divisions 
of  a  sentence.  The  marks  employed  in 
punctuation  are  sometimes  used  to  note  the 
different  pauses  and  tones  of  voice,  which 
the  sense  and  accurate  pronounciation  re 
quire. 

The  characters  or  marks  used  in  punctua 
tion  are  as  follows : 


The  Comma,  , 

The  Semicolon,  ; 

The  Colon, 

The  Period, 

The  Quotation  Marks,  "  " 

The  Diaeresis, 

The  Crotchets,  (  ) 

The  Brackets,  [  ] 

The  Exclamation,  ! 

The  Interrogation,  ? 

The  Dash,  — -- 


The  Ellipsis, 

The  Hyphen, 

The  Breve,  >-> 

The  Apostrophe  ' 

The  Brace, 

The  Acute  Accent,  ' 

The  Grave  Accent,  N 
The  Circumflex  Accent,  A 

The  Caret,  A 

The  Cedilla,  c. 


In  addition  to  these  the  following  marks 
of  reference  are  used  : 


t 


The  Section, 
The  Parallels, 
The  Paragraph, 


The  Asterisk, 

The  Obelisk, 

The  Index, 

The  Double  Obelisk,         % 

Rules  of  I'M  net  iiat  ion. 

When  two  or  more  words  are  connected 
without  the  connecting  word  being  expressed, 
the  comma  supplies  the  place  of  that  word ; 
as  "  Alfred  was  a  brave,  pious,  patriotic 
prince." 

Those  parts  of  a  sentence  which  contain  the 
relative  pronoun,  the  case  absolute,  the  nom 
inative  case  independent,  any  parenthetical 
clause,  and  simple  members  of  sentences, 
connected  by  words  expressing  a  comparison, 
must  be  separated  by  commas ;  as,  "  The 
elephant,  which  you  saw  in  the  menagerie, 
took  the  child  up  with  his  trunk  into  his 
cage."  "  Shame  being  lost,  all  virtue  is  lost." 
"  Peace,  O  Virtue,  peace  is  all  thine  own." 
u  Better  is  a  dinner  of  herbs  with  love,  thai 
a  stalled  ox  and  hatred  therewith." 

The  following  words  and  phrases,  and 
others  similar  to  them,  are  generally  separated 


cz 


J60t<Pe0t<C00t0fGf0l 

</  / 


^JVfgtttetth 


472 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


473 


by  commas  from  the  rest  of  the  sentence; 
namely,  Nay,  so,  however,  hence,  besides, 
perhaps,  finally,  in  short,  at  least,  moreover, 
again,  first,  secondly,  thirdly,  lastly,  once 
more,  on  the  contrary,  etc. 

The  words  of  another  writer,  not  formally 
introduced  as  a  quotation,  and  words  and 
jlauses  expressing  contrast  or  apposition, 
though  closely  connected  in  construction, 
are  separated  by  a  comma;  as,  "I  pity  the 
man,  who  can  travel  from  Dan  to  Beersheba 
and  cry,  'Tis  all  barren." 

"  Though  deep,  yet  clear ;  though  gentle,  yet  not  dull ; 
Strong,  without  rage  ;  without  o'erflowing,  full," 

When  the  absence  of  a  word  is  indicated 
in  reading  or  speaking  by  a  pause,  its  place 
may  be  suppled  by  a  comma;  as,  "From  law 
arises  security  ;  from  security,  inquiry ;  from 
inquiry,  knowledge." 

Nouns  in  apposition,  accompanied  by  ex 
planatory  words  or  phrases,  are  separated  by 
commas  ;  but  if  such  nouns  are  single,  or 
only  form  a  proper  name,  they  are  not 
divided;  as,  "Paul  the  Apostle  of  the 
Gentiles  was  eminent  for  his  zeal  and  knowl 
edge." 

Semicolons,  Colons  and  Pel  jds. 

When  a  sentence  consists  of  several  mem 
bers,  each  constituting  a  distinct  proposition, 
and  having  a  dependence  upon  each  other, 
or  upon  some  common  clause,  they  are 
separated  by  semicolons;  as,  "Wisdom  has 
builded  her  house ;  she  hath  hewn  out  her 
— ver  pillars;  she  hath  killed  her  beasts; 
she  hath  mingled  her  wine ;  she  hath  also 
furnished  her  table." 

Tiie  colon  is  used  to  divide  a  sentence  into 
wo  or  more  parts,  which,  although  the 
>cnse  be  complete  in  each,  are  not  wholly 
Independent ;  as,  "  Nature  felt  her  inability 
to  extricate  herself  from  the  consequences  of 
guilt;  the  Gospel  reveals  the  plan  of  Divine 


interposition  and  aid."  Here  the  clauses 
are  complete  in  sense,  yet  form  one  sentence. 

TLe  colon  is  used  when  an  example,  a 
quotation,  or  a  speech  is  introduced;  as? 
"  The  Scriptures  give  us  an  amiable  repre 
sentation  of  the  Deity  in  these  words:  God 
is  love." 

The  period  is  used  at  the  end  of  a  complete 
and  independent  sentence.  It  is  also  placed 
after  initial  letters  when  used  alone ;  and, 
likewise,  after  all ,  abbreviations  ;  as,  "One 
clear  and  direct  path  is  pointed  out  to  man." 
"  Fear  God."  "  Have  charity  towards  all 
men."  "  G.  W.,"  for  "George  Washington." 
"Geo.,"  for  "George."  "Benj.,"  for  "Ben- 
jamin."  "O.  S.,"  for  "Old  Style."  "  F.  R. 
S.,"  for  "Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society." 

In  a  general  view,  the  period  separates  the 
paragraph  into  sentences;  the  semicolon 
divides  a  compound  sentence  into  simple 
ones ;  and  the  comma  collects  into  clauses 
the  scattered  circumstances  of  manner,  time, 
place,  relation,  etc.,  belonging  to  every  verb 
and  to  every  noun. 

Interrogation  and  Exclamation  Marks. 

The  note  of  interrogation,  or  the  question, 
as  it  is  sometimes  called,  is  placed  after  every 
sentence  which  contains  a  question ;  as, 
"Who  is  this?"  "What  havr  you  in  your 
hand?"  "The  Cyprians  said  to  me,  Why 
do  you  weep  ?  " 

The  exclamation  point  is  used  to  express 
any  sudden  or  violent  emotion ;  such  as  sur 
prise,  joy,  grief,  love,  hatred,  anger,  pity, 
anxiety,  ardent  wish,  etc.  It  is  also  used  to 
mark  an  exalted  idea  of  the  Deity;  and  is 
generally  placed  after  the  nominative  case  in 
dependent;  and  after  the  noun  or  pronoun 
which  follows  an  interjection ;  as,  "  How 
mischievous  are  the  effects  of  war  lr  *  O 
blissful  days  !  Ah  me  !  how  soon  we  pass !" 

The  exclamation  point  is  also  used  after 


ONE-HAND   ALPHABET, 
B  C  D  E 


SIGNS  USED   FOR   LETTERS  BY  THE   DEAF  AND   DUMB. 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


475 


sentences  containing  a  question  when  no 
answer  is  expected ;  as,  "  What  is  more  amia- 
able  than  virtue!" 

Several  exclamation  points  are  sometimes 
used  together,  either  in  a  parenthesis  or  by 
themselves,  for  the  purpose  of  expressing 
ridicule  or  a  great  degree  of  surprise. 

The  Parenthesis,  Bracket,  Hyphen,  Etc. 

A  parenthesis  is  a  sentence,  or  a  part  of  a 
sentence,  inserted  within  another  sentence, 
but  which  may  be  omitted  without  injuring 
the  sense  or  construction,  and  is  enclosed 
between  two  closed  lines  like  these  :  (  ). 

The  curved  lines  between  which  a  paren 
thesis  is  enclosed  are  called  crotchets. 

Sometimes  a  sentence  is  enclosed  between 
marks  like  these,  [  ],  which  are  called 
brackets. 

The  following  difference  13  to  be  noticed 
in  the  use  of  crotchets  and  brackets:  Crotchets 
are  used  to  enclose  a  sentence,  or  part  of  a 
sentence,  which  is  inserted  between  the  parts 
of  another  sentence:  Brackets  are  generally 
used  to  separate  two  subjects  or  to  enclose  an 
explanatory  note  or  observation  standing  by 
itself.  When  a  parenthesis  occurs  within 
another  parenthesis,  I  rackets  enclose  the 
former,  and  crotchets  the  latter ;  as  in  the 
following  sentence  from  Stern  :  "I  know  the 
banker  I  deal  with,  or  the  physician  I  usually 
call  in  [there  is  no  need,  cried  Dr.  Slop  (wak 
ing),  to  call  in  any  physician  in  this  case], 
to  be  neither  of  them  man  of  much 
religion." 

It  may  be  here  remarked  that  a  parenthe 
sis  is  frequently  placed  between  commas,  in 
stead  of  crotchets,  etc.  ;  but  the  best  writers 
avoid  the  use  of  parenthesis  as  much  as 
possible. 

The  hyphen  is  a  small  mark  placed  between 
the  parts  of  a  compound  word ;  as,  sea- water, 
semi-circle. 


The  hyphen  is  also  used  to  denote  the 
long  sound  of  a  vowel ;  as,  Epicure-an, 
deco-rum. 

The  hyphen  must  always  be  put  at  the  end 
of  the  line  when  part  of  the  word  is  in  one 
line  and  part  in  another ;  but  in  this    case, 
the  letters  of  a  syllable  must  never  be  sep 
arated  ;  as,  extraor 
dinary,  not  ext 
raordinary. 

The  dash  is  a  straight  mark  longer  than  a 
hyphen ;  thus,  — 

The  proper  use  of  the  dash  is  to  express  a 
sudden  stop  or  change  of  the  subject ;  but 
by  modern  writers,  it  is  employed  as  a  sub 
stitute  for  almost  all  of  the  other  marks: 
being  used  sometimes  for  a  comma,  semi 
colon,  colon  or  period ;  sometimes  for  a 
question  or  an  exclamation,  and  sometimes 
for  crotchets  and  brackets  to  enclose  a  paren 
thesis. 

An  ellipsis  or  omission  of  words,  syllables 
or  letters,  is  indicated  by  various  marks: 

sometimes  by  a  dash  ;  as,  the  k g,  for  the 

king;  sometimes  by  asterisks  or  stars,  like 
these,  *  *  *  *  ;  sometimes  by  hyphens,  thus, 

;  sometimes  by  small  dots  or  periods, 

like  these,  .... 

The  breve  (thus  )  is  placed  over  a  vowel 
to  indicate  its  short  sound  ;  St.  Helena. 

The  apostrophe  is  the  comma  placed  above 
the  line.  It  is  used  as  the  sign  of  the  pos 
sessive  case,  and  sometimes  indicates  the 
omission  of  a  letter  or  several  letters ;  as, 
"John's;"  "'tis"  for  "it  is;"  "  tho'"  for 
'  though;"  "lov'd"  for  "loved;"  "I'll"  for 
"I  will." 

The  quotation  marks,  or  inverted  commaSj 
as  they  are  sometimes  called,  consist  of  four 
commas,  two  inverted,  or  upside  dowrn,  at  the 
beginning  of  a  word,  phrase  or  sentence 
which  is  quoted  or  transcribed  from  some 
author  in  his  own  words  •  and  two  others,  In 


470 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


477 


their   direct  position,  placed  at  the  conclu 
sion  ;  as,  an  excellent  poet  says : 

"The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man." 

Sometimes  the  quotation  is  marked  by  sin 
gle  instead  of  double  commas. 

The  diaeresis  consists  of  two  periods  placed 
ovei  '"he  latter  of  two  vowels  to  show  that 
they  are  w?  be  pronounced  in  separate  sylla 
bles  ;  as,  Laocu^n,  Zoonomia,  cooperate. 

The  brace  is  employed  to  unite  several 
lines  of  poetry,  or  to  connect  a  number  of 
words  with  one  common  term  ;  and  it  is  also 
used  to  prevent  a  repetition  in  writing  or 
printing  ;  thus, 

"Waller  was  smooth;  but  Dryden  taught  him  to  join  ) 


The  varying  verse,  the  full-re«ounding  line, 

The  long  majestic  march  an;:  energy  divine."  J 

C-po-v-s     1 

S-c-i'-oHi-s  I"  are  Pronounced  like  shus. 
T-i-o-u-s     j 

The  cedilla,  or  cerilla,  is  a  curve  line 
placed  under  the  letter  <:,  to  show  that  it  has 
the  sound  of  s.  It  is  used  principally  in 
words  derived  from  the  French  language. 

Thus  garden,  in  which  word  the  9  is  to  be 
pronounced  like  s. 

The  accents  are  marks  used  to  signify  the 
proper  pronounciation  of  words. 

The  accents  are  three  in  number  : 

The  grave  accent,  thus,  v 
The  acute  accent,  thus,  ' 
The  circumflex  accent,  thus,  ^ 

The  grave  accent  is  represented  by  a  mark 
placed  over  a  letter,  or  syllable,  to  show  that 
it  must  be  pronounced  with  the  falling  in 
flection  of  the  voice ;  as,  Reuthamir. 

The  acute  accent  is  represented  by  a 
jimilar  mark,  pointing  in  the  opposite 
direction,  to  show  that  the  letter  or  syllable 
must  be  pronounced  with  the  rising  inflec 
tion  of  the  voice  ;  thus,  Epicurean,  European. 

The  meaning  of  a  sentence  often  depends 
on  the  kind  of  accent  which  is  used  ;  thus 


the  following  sentence,  if  che  acute  accen1, 
be  used  on  the  word  alone,  becomes  *  ques 
tion  : 
"  Pleased  thoushalt hear,  and  thou  a!6ne  shalt  hear?" 

But  if  the  grave  accent  be  placed  on  the 
word  alone,  it  becomes  a  simple  declaration ; 
as, 
"  Pleased  thou  shalt  hear,  and  thou  alone  shalt  hear. " 

The  circumflex  accent  is  the  union  of  the 
grave  and  acute  accents,  and  indicates  that 
the  syllable  on  which  it  is  placed  should 
have  both  the  rising  and  falling  inflection  of 
the  voice. 

The  caret  is  a  mark  resembling  an  in 
verted  V  ,  placed  under  the  line.  It  is  never 
used  in  printed  books,  but,  in  manuscripts, 
shows  that  something  has  been  accidentally 
omitted ;  as, 

recited 
"  George  has  his  lesson." 

A 

When  many  notes  occur  on  a  page,  and 
the  reference  marks  given  above  are  *_"" 
hausted,  it  is  customary  to  double  them. 
Some  writers  prefer  to  use  the  numerals,  i> 
2,  3,  4,  etc.,  as  simpler.  TKis  is  a  matter  of 
taste  with  the  writer. 

Sections  and  Paragraphs. 

The  section  §  and  the  paragraph  1  ure 
used  to  mark  the  parts  of  a  composition  thut 
should  be  separated.  Y/here  you  wish  the 
compositor  to  separate  a  paragraph  into  two 
or  more  paragraphs,  it  is  not  necessary  to 
rewrite  the  page.  Place  the  1  where  yon 
wish  each  new  paragraph  to  begin,  and  thc- 
compositor  will  understand  your  wishes. 

A  paragraph  denotes  the  beginning  of  i 
new  subject,  or  a  sentence  not  connecter 
Avith  the  foregoing. 

A  section  is  used  for  subdividing  a  chapte. 
into  smaller  parts. 

It  is  proper  here  to  add,  that  every  com 
position  should  be  divided  into  panigra;>:is, 


SPECIMEN   OF  ORNAMENTAL    PENMANSHIP. 


478 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


479 


when  the   sense  will   allow  the  separation. 
Different  subjects,  unless  they  are  very  short, 
or  very  numerous  in  a  small  compass,  should 
be  separated  into  paragraphs. 
Uiiderscori  ng-. 

Many  mistakes  arise  from  improperly 
underscoring  the  words  of  a  manuscript  or 
letter.  It  is  well  to  refrain  from  underscor 
ing  a  word  wherever  you  can  do  so  with 
propriety,  just  as  you  would  avoid  unduly- 
emphasizing  your  words  in  speaking.  A 
single  line  drawn  under  a  word  indicates 
that  it  must  be  set  by  the  compositor  in 
italics;  as,  "I  dearly  love  her."  Two  lines 
indicate  small  capitals;  as,  "I  honor  him." 

Three  lines  indicate  large  capitals  ;  as,  "Help, 
help,  I  cry." 

GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  OF  GRAMMAR. 

Although  the  details  of  Grammar  and 
grammatical  rule  are  not  embraced  in  the 
plan  of  this  work,  we  may  with  propriety 
present  some  observations  with  regard  to 
those  principles  which  are  most  frequently 
forgotten  or  disregarded  by  careless  writers. 
These  are  here  presented  in  the  form  of 
directions. 

DIRECTION  ist.  In  determining  the 
number  of  a  verb,  regard  must  be  had  to 
the  idea  which  is  embraced  in  the  subject 
or  nominative.  Whenever  the  idea  of  plu 
rality  is  conveyed,  whether  it  be  expressed 
by  one  word  or  by  one  hundred,  and  how 
ever  connected,  and  in  whatever  number  the 
subject  may  be,  whether  singular  or  plural, 
all  verbs  relating  to  it  must  be  made  to 
agree,  not  with  the  number  of  the  word  or 
zvords,  but  with  the  number  of  the  idea  con 
veyed  by  the  words. 

DIRECTION  ad.  In  the  use  of  pronouns 
the  same  remark  applies:  namely,  that  the 
number  of  the  pronoun  must  coincide  with 


the  idea  contained  in  the  word,  or  words,  to 
which  the  pronoun  relates.  If  it  imply 
unity,  the  pronoun  must  be  singular;  if  it 
convey  plurality,  the  pronoun  must  be  plural. 
These  directions  will  be  better  understood  by 
an  example. 

Thus,  in  the  sentence,  "Each  of  them,  in 
their  turn,  receive  the  benefits  to  which  they 
are  entitled,"  the  verbs  and  pronouns  are  in 
the  wrong  number.  The  word  each,  although 
it  includes  all,  implies  but  one  at  a  time.  The 
idea,  therefore,  is  the  idea  of  unity,  and  the 
verb  and  pronoun  should  be  singular;  thus, 
"Each  of  them  in  his  turn  receives  the 
benefit  to  which  he  is  entitled." 

The  same  remark  may  be  made  with  re 
gard  to  the  following  sentences :  "  Every  per 
son,  whatever  be  their  (his)  station,  is  bound 
by  the  duties  of  morality."  "The  wheel 
killed  another  man,  who  is  the  sixth  that 
have  (has)  lost  their  (his)  lives  (life)  by  these 
means."  "I  do  not  think  that  any  one 
should  incur  censure  for  being  tender  of 
their  (his)  reputation." 

DIRECTION  3d.  In  the  use  of  verbs  and 
words  which  express  time,  care  must  be 
taken  that  the  proper  tense  be  employed  to 
express  the  time  that  is  intended.  Perhaps 
there  is  no  rule  more  frequently  violated 
than  this,  even  by  good  writers ;  but  young 
writers  are  very  prone  to  the  error ;  thus  the 
author  of  the  Waverley  Novels  has  the  fol 
lowing  sentence : 

"  '  Description,'  he  said,  '  was  (is)  to  the 
author  of  a  romance  exactly  what  drawing 
and  tinting  were  (are)  to  a  painter;  words 
were  (are)  his  colors,  and,  if  properly  em 
ployed,  they  could  (can)  not  fail  to  place  the 
scene  which  he  wished  (wishes)  to  conjure 
up  as  effectually  before  the  mind's  eye  as  the 
tablet  or  canvas  presents  it  to  the  bodily  or 
gan.  The  same  rules,'  he  continued,  '•ap 
plied  (apply)  to  both,  and  an  exuberance  of 


SPECIMENS  OF  VISITING  CARDS. 


180 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


4° 
<j 


dialogue  in  the  former  case  was  (is)  a  verbose 
and  laborious  mode  of  composition,  which 
went  (goes)  to  confound  the  proper  art  of  the 
drama,  a  widely  different  species  of  compo 
sition,  of  which  dialogue  was  (is)  the  very 
essence ;  because  all,  excepting  the  language 
to  be  made  use  of,  was  (is)  presented  to  the 
eye  by  the  dresses,  and  persons,  and  actions 
of  the  performers  upon  the  stage.'" 

The  author  was  misled  throughout  in  the 
tenses  of  the  verbs  in  this  extract  by  the 
tense  of  the  verb  said,  with  which  he  intro 
duces  it. 

DIRECTION  4th.  Whenever  several  verbs 
belonging  to  one  common  subject  occur  in  a 
sentence,  the  subject  or  nominative  must  be 
repeated  whenever  there  is  a  change  in  the 
mood,  tense,  or  form  of  the  verb. 

DIRECTION  5th.  In  the  use  of  the  com 
parative  and  superlative  degrees  of  the  adjec 
tive  it  is  to  be  remarked,  that  when  two 
things  or  persons  only  are  compared,  the 
comparative  degree,  and  not  the  superlative, 
should  be  used.  Thus,  in  the  sentence, 
"  Catharine  and  Mary  are  both  well  attired  ; 
but,  in  their  appearance,  Catharine  is  the 
neatest,  Mary  the  most  showy,"  the  superla 
tive  degree  of  the  adjective  is  improperly  ap 
plied.  As  there  are  but  two  persons  spoken 
of,  the  adjectives  should  be  in  the  compara 
tive  degree  :  namely,  neater  and  more  showy, 

DIRECTION  6th.  Neuter  and  intransitive 
verbs  should  never  be  used  in  the  passive 
form.  Such  expressions  as  was  gone,  is 
grown,  is  fallen,  is  come,  may  be  relied  on^ 
etc.,  although  used  by  some  good  writers,  are 
objectionable. 

DIRECTION  jth.  In  the  use  of  irregular 
verbs,  a  proper  distinction  should  be  made  in 
the  use  of  the  imperfect  tense  and  the  perfect 
participle. 

He  done  (did)  it  at  my  request ;  he  run 
(ran)  a  great  risk  ;  he  has  mistook  (mistaken) 


his  true  interest ;  the  cloth  was  wove  (woven) 
of  the  finest  wool ;  he  writes  as  the  best  au 
thors  would  have  wrote  (written)  had  they 
writ  (written)  upon  the  subject ;  the  bell  has 
been  rang  (rung) ;  I  have  spoke  (spoken)  to 
him  upon  the  subject.  These  sentences  are 
instances  where  the  proper  distinction  be 
tween  the  preterite  and  participle  has  not 
been  preserved. 

DIRECTION  8th.  The  negative  adverb 
must  be  followed  by  the  negative  conjunc 
tion  ;  as,  "The  work  is  not  capable  of  pleas 
ing  the  understanding,  nor  (not  or)  the  imag 
ination."  The  sentence  would  be  improved 
by  using  the  conjunction  in  pairs,  substitut 
ing  neither  for  not. 

In  the  following  sentences,  the  conjunc 
tion  but  is  improperly  used :  "  I  cannot  deny 
but  that  I  was  in  fault."  "  It  cannot  be 
doubted  but  that  this  is  a  state  of  positive 
gratification." 

DIRECTION  Qth.  There  must  be  no 
ellipsis  of  any  word,  when  such  ellipsis 
would  occasion  obscurity.  Thus,  when  we 
speak  of  "the  laws  of  God  and  man,"  it  is 
uncertain  whether  one  or  two  codes  of  laws 
are  meant ;  but,  in  the  expression,  "  the  laws 
of  God  and  the  laws  of  man,"  the  obscurity 
vanishes.  A  nice  distinction  in  sense  is 
made  by  the  use  or  omission  of  the  articles. 
"A  white  and  red  house"  means  but  one 
house;  but  "A  white  and  a  red  house" 
means  two  houses.  In  the  expression,  "She 
has  a  little  modesty,"  the  meaning  is  posi 
tive ;  but  by  omitting  the  article,  "She  has 
little  modesty,"  the  meaning  becomes  nega 
tive.  The  position  of  the  article,  also,  fre 
quently  makes  a  great  difference  in  the 
sense,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  following 
examples:  "As  delicate  a  little  thing;" 
"  As  a  delicate  little  thing." 

DIRECTION  loth.  The  adverb  should 
always  be  placed  as  near  as  possible  to  the 


482 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


word  which  it  is  designed  to  qualify.  Its 
proper  position  is  generally  before  adjectives, 
after  verbs  and  frequently  between  the 
auxiliary  and  the  verb.  The  following 
sentence  exhibits  an  instance  of  the  im 
proper  location  of  the  adverb:  "It  had 
almost  been  his  daily  custom,  at  a  certain 
hour,  to  visit  Admiral  Priestman."  The 
adverb  almost  should  have  been  placed  before 
daily. 

DIRECTION  nth.  In  the  use  of  passive 
and  neuter  verbs,  care  must  be  taken  that 
the  proper  nominative  is  applied.  That 
which  is  the  object  of  the  active  verb  must 
in  all  cases  be  the  subject  or  nominative  of 
the  passive  verb.  Thus,  we  say,  with  the 
active  verb,  "They  offered  him  mercy " 
(i.  e.,  to  him):  and,  with  the  passive  verb, 
"Mercy  was  offered  to  him;"  not  "He  was 
offered  mercy,"  because  "mercy,"  not  "he," 
is  the  thing  which  was  offered.  It  is  better 
to  alter  the  expression  by  substituting  a 
synonym  with  a  proper  nominative  or  sub 
ject,  than  to  introduce  such  confusion  of 
language,  as  must  necessarily  result  from  a 
change  in  the  positive, 'fixed  and  true  signifi 
cations  of  words,  or  from  a  useless  violation 
of  grammatical  propriety. 

In  accordance  with  this  direction  (see,  also, 
Direction  6th), 


Instead  of 
He  was  prevailed  on , 
He  was  spoken  to, 
She  was  listened  to, 
They  were  looked  at, 
It  is  approved  of, 
He  was  spoken  of, 
It  is  contended  for, 
It  was  thought  of, 


It  would  be  better  to  say, 

He  wasipersuaded. 
He  was  addressed. 
She  was  heard. 
They  were  seen,  or  viewed. 
It  is  liked,  or  commended. 
He  was  named,  or  mentioned. 
It  is  maintained,  or  contested. 
It  was  remembered  .or  conceived. 


He  was  called  on  by  his  friend,    He  was  visited  by  his  friend. 
These  examples  are  commented    These   examples    are  ridiculed 

upon  with  much  humor,  with  much  humor. 

He  was  referred  to  as  an  oracle,    He  was  consulted  as  an  oracle. 

,  DIRECTION  lath.  All  the  parts  of  a  sen 
tence  should  be  constructed  in  such  a  man 
ner  that  there  shall  appear  to  be  no  want  of 
agreement  or  connection  among  them.  Thus, 


the  following  sentence,  "  He  was  more  be> 
loved,  but  not  so  much  admired  as  Cynthio," 
is  inaccurate,  because  when  it  is  analyzed,  it 
will  be,  "  He  was  more  beloved  as  Cynthio," 
etc.  The  adverb  more  requires  the  conjunc 
tion  than  after  it ;  and  the  sentence  should 
be,  "  He  was  more  beloved  than  Cynthio,  but 
not  so  much  admired." 

Again,  in  the  sentence,  "  If  a  man  have  a 
hundred  sheep,  and  one  of  them  goes  astray," 
etc.,  the  subjunctive  word,  have,  is  used  after 
the  conjunction  if,  in  the  first  part  of  the 
sentence,  and  the  indicative  goes,  in  the  sec 
ond.  Both  of  these  verbs  should  be  in  the 
indicative,  or  both  in  the  subjunctive  mood. 

No  definite  rule  can  be  given  which  will 
enable  the  learner  to  make  the  parts  of  a  sen 
tence  agree  in  themselves,  and  with  one  an 
other.  They  should  be  diligently  compared, 
and  a  similarity  of  construction  be  carefully 
maintained  ;  while  the  learner  will  recollect 
that  no  sentence  can  be  considered  grammat 
ically  correct,  which  cannot  be  analyzed  or 
parsed  by  the  authorized  rules  of  Syntax. 

Construction  of  Sentences. 

In  the  construction  of  sentences  care 
should  be  taken  f,o  choose  the  simplest 
words,  and  those  which  most  directly  and 
strikingly  convey  the  meaning  you  wish  to 
express.  Three  things  are  necessary  in  a 
correct  sentence — purity,  propriety  and  pre 
cision. 

Purity  consists  in  using  such  words  and 
expressions  as  belong  to  the  idiom  of  the 
English  language,  in  place  of  words  or 
phrases  drawn  from  foreign  or  dead  lang 
uages,  or  that  are  either  ungrammatical,  ob 
solete,  newly  coined  or  not  sanctioned  by 
usage.  The  use  of  words  that  are  not  Eng 
lish  is  a  violation  of  this  rule,  and  is  termed 
a  barbarism.  The  rule  is  also  violated  by 
the  use  of  words  or  phrases  not  constructed 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


483 


in  the  En  -lish  idiom.  This  fault,  is  termed 
a  solecism,  By  using  words  or  phrares  to 
convey  a  meaning  different  from  that  as 
signed  to  them  by  custom,  you  ctlsa  violate 
the  rule.  This  is  termed  an  impropriety. 

Propriety  in  writing  consists  in  the  use  of 
words  sanctioned  oy  th«_  usage  of  the  best 
writers  to  convey  your  meaning,  and  in  the 
avoidance  of  low,  vulgar  or  less  elegant  and 
significant  words.  In  order  to  remain  faith 
ful  to  this  principle,  a  writer  should  bear  in 
mind  the  following  rules  : 

Avoid  low  or  slang  expressions. 
Supply  words  that,  are  wanting. 
Do  not  use  the  same  word   in  different 
senses.     Wherever  it  is  possible,  avoid  the 
use  of  technical  terms  ;  by  which  is  meant 
terms  or  expressions  used  in  some  art,  occu 
pation  or  profession. 

Do  not  use  ambiguous  or  equivocal  words. 
Avoid     unintelligible     and     inconsistent 
words  or  phrases. 

When  words  or  phrases  are  not  adapted  to 
the  ideas  you  intend  to  communicate,  avoid 
the  use  of  them. 

Precision  means  to  make  your  writing  a  clear 
find  concise  statement  of  your  thoughts,  so 
clear  that  no  one  reading  it  can  fail  to  com 
prehend  your  exact  meaning.  You  may  use 
words  that  convey  a  meaning  different  from 
that  you  intend ;  or  they  may  not  entirely 
convey  your  meaning  ;  or  they  may  convey 
more  than  you  intend.  Precision  is  des 
igned  to  express  neither  more  nor  less  than 
your  exact  thought. 

Do  not  make  your  sentences  very  long  ; 
neither  make  them  very  short.  When  a 
sentence  is  too  long,  the  attention  of  the 
reader  is  drawn  off  from  the  first  part  while 
considering  the  last,  and  he  finds  it  difficult 
to  perceive  the  connection  between  them. 
Short  sentences  generally  weaken  the 
thought.  Sentences  of  moderate  length, 


clearly   and   strikingly  expressed,   are    the 

best. 

The  Best  Style,, 

"  Style,"  says  Dr.  Blair,  "  is  the  peculiar 
manner  in  which  a  writer  expresses  his 
thoughts  by  words." 

Various  terms  are  applied  to  style  to  ex« 
press  its  character,  as  a  harsh  style,  a  dry 
style,  a  tumid  or  bombastic  style,  a  loose 
style,  a  terse  style,  a  laconic  or  a  verbose 
style,  a  flowing  style,  a  lofty  style,  an  ele 
gant  style,  an  epistolary  style,  a  formal  style, 
a  familiar  style,  etc. 

The  divisions  of  style,  as  given  by  Dr. 
Blair,  are  as  follows  :  The  diffuse  and  the 
concise,  the  nervous  and  the  feeble,  the  dry, 
the  plain,  the  neat,  the  elegant,  the  florid, 
the  simple,  the  affected,  and  the  vehement. 
These  terms  are  altogether  arbitrary,  and 
are  not  uniformly  adopted  in  every  treatise 
on  rhetoric.  Some  writers  use  the  terms 
barren  and  luxuriant,  forcible  and  vehe- 
men^  elevated  and  dignified,  idiomatic,  easy 
and  animated,  etc.,  in  connection  with  the 
terms,  or  some  of  the  terms  employed  by 
Dr.  Blair. 

The  character  of  the  style,  and  the  term 
by  which  it  is  designated,  depends  partly  on 
the  clearness,  the  fulness,  and  the  force  with 
which  the  idea  is  expressed ;  partly  on  the  de 
gree  of  ornament  or  of  figurative  language 
employed  ;  while  the  character  of  the 
thoughts  or  ideas  themselves  is  expressed  by 
the  names  of  simple  or  natural,  affected  and 
vehement. 

A  concise  writer  compresses  his  ideas  in 
to  the  fewest  words,  and  these  the  most  ex 
pressive. 

A  diffuse  writer  unfolds  his  idea  fully,  b) 
placing  it  in  a  variety  of  lights. 

A  nervous  writer  gives  us  a  strong  idea  of 
his  meaning — his  words  are  alwavs  express 
ive — every  phrase  and  every  figure  renders 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


the  picture  which  he  would  set  before  us 
more  striding  and  complete. 

A  feeble  writer  has  an  indistinct  view  of 
his  subject  ;  unmeaning  words  and  loose 
epithets  escape  him  ;  his  expressions  are 
vague  and  general,  his  arrangements  indis 
tinct,  and  our  Conception  of  his  meaning 
will  be  faint  and  confused. 

A  dry  writer  uses  no  ornament  of  any 
kind,  and,  content  with  being  understood, 
aims  not  to  please  the  fancy  or  the  ear. 

A  plain  writer  employs  very  little  orna 
ment  ;  he  observes  perspicuity,  propriety, 
purity,  and  precision  in  his  language,  but 
attempts  none  of  the  graces  of  composition. 
A  dry  writer  is  incapabl^  of  o~nament — c, 
plain  writer  goes  not  in  oursuit  of  it 

A  neat  writer  is  careful  in  the  choice  of 
his  words,  and  the  graceful  collocation  of 
them.  His  sentences  are  free  from  the  en 
cumbrances  of  superfluous  words,  and  his 
figures  are  short  and  accurate,  rather  than 
bold  and  glowing. 

An  elegant  writer  possesses  all  the  graces 
of  ornament — polished  periods,  figurative 
language,  harmonious  expressions,  and  a 
great  degree  of  purity  in  the  choice  of  his 
words,  all  characterized  by  perspicuity  and 
propriety,  He  is  one,  in  short,  who  delights 
the  fancy  and  the  ear,  while  he  informs  the 
understanding. 

A  florid  or  flowery  writer  is  characterized 
by  excess  of  ornament ;  and  seems  to  be  more 
intent  on  beauty  of  language  than  solidity 
of  thought. 

A  simple  or  natural  writer  is  distinguished 
by  simplicity  of  plan ;  he  makes  his  thoughts 
.appear  to  rise  naturally  from  his  subject ;  he 
has  no  marks  of  art  in  his  expressions,  and 
although  he  may  be  characterized  by  great 
richness  both  of  language  and  imagination, 
he  appears  to  write  in  that  way  not  because 
he  had  studied  it,  but  because  it  is  the  mode  of 


expression  most  natural  to  him.  The  charm 
of  such  a  style  is  evident  to  all  readers. 

An  affected  writer  is  the  very  reverse  of  a 
simple  one.  He  uses  words  in  uncommon 
meanings — employs  pompous  expressions — 
and  his  whole  manner  is  characterized  by 
singularity  rather  tnan  by  beauty. 

A  vehement  writer  uses  strong  expressions 
— is  characterized  by  considerable  warmth  of 
manner — and  presents  his  ideas  clearly  and 
fully  before  us. 

The  following  directions  are  given  by  Dr. 
Blair  for  attaining  a  good  style : 

The  first  direction  is,  study  clear  ideas  of 
the  subject  on  which  you  are  to  write  or 
speak.  What  we  conceive  clearly  and  feel 
strongly,  we  naturally  express  with  clearness 
and  strength. 

Secondly,  to  the  acquisition  of  a  good 
style,  frequency  of  composing  is  indispens 
ably  necessary.  But  it  is  not  every  kind  of 
composition  that  will  improve  style.  By  a 
careless  and  hasty  habit  of  writing,  a  bad 
style  will  be  acquired.  In  the  beginning, 
therefore,  we  ought  to  write  slowly  and  with 
much  care.  Facility  and  speed  are  the  fruit 
of  experience. 

Thirdly,  acquaintance  with  the  style  of  the 
best  authors  is  peculiarly  requisite.  Hence 
a  just  taste  will  be  formed,  and  a  copious  fund 
of  words  supplied  on  every  subject.  No  ex 
ercise,  perhaps,  will  be  found  more  useful  for 
acquiring  a  proper  style  than  translating  some 
passage  from  an  eminent  author  in  our  own 
words,  and  then  comparing  what  we  have 
written  with  the  style  of  the  author.  Such 
an  exercise  will  show  us  our  defects,  will 
teach  us  to  correct  them,  and,  from  the 
variety  of  expression  which  it  will  exhibit, 
will  conduct  us  to  that  which  is  most  beau 
tiful. 

Fourthly,  caution  must  be  used  against 
servile  imitation  of  any  author  whatever. 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


485 


Desire  of  imitation  hampers  genius,  and 
generally  produces  stiffness  of  expression. 
They  who  copy  an  author  closely,  commonly 
copy  his  faults  as  well  as  his  beauties.  It  is 
much  bettei  to  have  something  of  our  own, 
though  of  moderate  beauty,  than  to  shine  in 
borrowed  ornaments,  which  will  at  last  betray 
the  poverty  of  our  genius. 

Fifthly,  always  adapt  your  style  to  the 
subject,  and  likewise  to  the  capacity  of  your 
hearers  or  readers.  When  we  are  to  write 
or  speak,  we  should  previously  fix  in  our 
minds  a  clear  idea  of  the  end  aimed  at ;  keep 
this  steadily  in  view,  and  adapt  our  style  to  it. 

Lastly,  let  no  attention  to  style  engross  us 
so  much  as  to  prevent  a  higher  degree  of 
attention  to  the  thoughts  He  is  a  contemp 
tible  writer  who  looks  not  beyond  the  dress 
of  language ;  who  lays  not  the  chief  stress 
upon  his  matter,  and  employs  not  such 
ornaments  of  style  as  are  manly,  not  foppish. 

"It  is  a  useful  admonition  to  young 
writers,"  says  Archbishop  Whately,  "that 
they  should  always  attempt  to  recast  a  sen 
tence  that  does  not  please;  altering  the 
arrangement  and  entire  structure  of  it,  instead 
of  merely  seeking  to  change  one  word  for 
another.  This  will  give  a  great  advantage  in 
point  of  copiosness  also  ;  for  there  may  be, 
suppose  a  substantive  (or  noun)  which,  either 
because  it  does  not  fully  express  our  mean 
ing,  or  for  some  other  reason,  we  wish  to 
remove,  but  can  find  no  other  to  supply  its 
place.  But  the  object  may  be  easily  accom 
plished  by  means  of  a  verb,  adverb,  or  other 
part  of  speech,  the  substitution  of  which 
implies  an  alteration  in  the  construction.  It 
is  an  exercise,  accordingly,  which  may  be 
commended  as  highly  conductive  to  improve 
ment  of  style  to  practice  casting  a  sentence 
into  a  variety  of  different  forms." 

The  foregoing  practical  rules  shonld  be 
casefully  noted  and  followed. 


THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 

THE  English  language  consists  of  about 
thirty-eight  thousand  words.  This  includes, 
of  course,  not  only  radical  woids,  but  all 
derivatives ;  except  the  preterits  and  partici 
ples  of  verbs ;  to  which  must  be  added  some 
few  terms,  which,  though  set  down  in  the 
dictionaries,  are  either  obsolete  or  have  never 
ceased  to  be  considered  foreign. 

Of  these,  about  twenty-three  thousand,  or 
nearly  five-eighths,  are  of  Anglo-Saxon 
origin.  The  majority  of  the  rest,  in  what 
proportion  we  cannot  say,  are  Latin  and 
Greek ;  Latin,  however,  has  the  larger  share. 
The  names  of  the  greater  part  of  the  objects 
of  sense — in  other  words,  the  terms  which 
occur  most  frequently  in  discourse,  or  which 
recall  the  most  vivid  conceptions — are  Anglo- 
Saxon.  Thus,  for  example,  the  names  of 
the  most  striking  objects  in  visible  nature^ 
of  the  chief  agencies  at  work  there,  and  of 
the  changes  which  pass  over  it,  are  Anglo- 
Saxon.  This  language  has  given  names  tc* 
the  heavenly  bodies,  the  sun,  the  moon,  and' 
stars ;  to  three  of  the  four  elements,  earth ,, 
fire,  and  water ;  three  out  of  the  four  seasons,, 
spring,  summer  and  winter ;  and,  indeed,  to 
all  the  natural  divisions  of  time,  except  one;, 
as,  day,  night,  morning,  evening,  twilight, 
noon,  midday,  midnight,  sunrise,  sunset ; 
some  of  which  are  amongst  the  most  poetical, 
terms  we  have. 

To  the  same  language  we  are  indebted  for 
the  names  of  light,  heat,  cold,  frost,  rain,, 
snow,  hail,  sleet,  thunder,  lightning,  as  welt 
as  almost  all  of  those  subjects  which  form  the 
component  parts  of  the  beautiful  in  external 
scenery,  as  sea  and  land,  hill  and  dale,  wood 
and  stream,  etc. 

It  is  from  this  language  \ve  derive  the 
words  which  are  expressive  of  the  earliest 
and  dearest  connections,  and  the  strongest 
powerful  ^eelings  of  nature  ;  and 


486 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


which  are,  consequently,  invested  with  our 
oldest  and  most  complicated  associations.  It 
is  this  language  which  has  given  us  names 
for  father,  mother,  husband,  wife,  brother, 
sister,  son,  daughter,  home,  kindred,  friends. 
1  It  is  this  which  has  furnished  us  with  the 

'  greater  part  of  those  metonymies,  and  other 
figurative  expressions,  by  which  we  represent 
to  the  imagination,  and  that  in  a  single  word, 
the  reciprocal  duties  and  enjoyments  of  hos 
pitality,  friendship,  or  love.  Such  are  hearth, 
roof,  fireside.  The  chief  emotions,  too,  of 
which  we  are  susceptible,  are  expressed  in 
the  same  language,  as  love,  hope,  fear, 
sorrow,  shame ;  and  what  is  of  more  conse 
quence  to  the  orator  or  poet,  as  well  as  in 
common  life,  the  outward  signs  by  which 
emotion  is  indicated  are  almost  all  Anglo- 
Saxon  ;  such  are  tear,  smile,  blush,  to  laugh, 
to  weep,  to  sigh,  to  groan. 

Most  of  those  objects,  about  which  the 
practical  reason  of  man  is  employed  in  com 
mon  life,  receive  their  names  from  the  Anglo- 
Saxon.  It  is  the  language  for  the  most  part 
of  business;  of  the  counting-house,  the  shop, 
the  market,  the  street,  the  farm  ;  and,  how 
ever  miserable  the  man  who  is  fond  of  phil 
osophy  or  abstract  science  might  be,  if  he  had 
no  other  vocabulary  but  this,  we  must  recol 
lect  that  language  was  made  not  for  the  few, 
but  the  many,  and  that  portion  of  it  which 
enables  the  bulk  of  a  nation  to  express  their 
wants  and  transact  their  affairs,  must  be 
considered  of  at  least  as  much  importance  to 
general  happiness,  as  that  which  serves  the 

t  purpose  of  philosophical  science. 

Nearly  all  our  national  proverbs,  in  which, 
it  is  truly  said,  so  much  of  the  practical  wis- 
'dom  of  a  nation  resides,  and  which  constitute 
the  manual  and  vade  mecum  of  "  hobnailed" 
philosophy,  are  almost  wholly  Anglo-Saxon. 
A  very  large  proportion  (and  that  always  the 
Strongest)  of  the  language  of  invective, 


humor,  satire,  colloquial  pleasantry,  is  Anglo. 
Saxon.  Almost  all  the  terms  and  phrases  by 
which  we  most  energetically  express  anger, 
contempt,  and  indignation,  are  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  origin.  The"  Latin  contributes  most 
largely  to  the  language  of  polite  life,  as  well 
as  to  that  of  polite  literature. 

Again,  it  is  often  necessary  to  convey  ideas, 
which,  though  not  truly  and  properly  offen 
sive  in  themselves,  would,  if  clothed  in  the 
rough  Saxon,  appear  so  to  the  sensitive 
modesty  of  a  highly  refined  state  of  society ; 
dressed  in  Latin,  these  very  same  ideas  will 
seem  decent  enough.  There  is  a  large  num 
ber  of  words,  which,  from  the  frequency 
with  which  they  are  used,  and  from  their 
being  so  constantly  in  the  mouths  of  the 
vulgar,  would  not  be  endured  in  polished 
society,  though  more  privileged  synonyms 
of  Latin  origin,  or  some  classical  circum 
locution,  expressing  exactly  the  same  thing, 
pass  unquestioned. 

There  may  be  nothing  dishonest,  nothing 
really  vulgar  about  the  old  Saxon  word,  yet 
it  would  be  thoupht  as  uncoiith  in  a  drawing- 
room,  as  the  ploughman  to  whose  rude  use  it 
is  abandoned.  Thus,  the  word  "stench" 
is  lavendered  over  into  unpleasant  effluvia,  or 
or  an  ill  odor ;  "sweat,"  diluted  into  four 
times  the  number  of  syllables,  becomes  a 
very  inoffensive  thing  in  the  shape  of  "per 
spiration."  To  "squint"  is  softened  into 
obliquity  of  vision  ;  to  be  "drunk  "  is  vulgar; 
but,  if  a  man  be  simply  intoxicated  or  in 
ebriated,  it  is  comparatively  venial.  Indeed, 
we  may  say  of  the  classical  names  of  vices, 
what  Burke  more  questionably  said  of  vices 
themselves,  "that  they  lose  half  their  dev 
formity  by  losing  all  their  grossness." 

In  the  same  manner,  we  all  know  that  it 
is  very  possible  for  a  medical  man  to  put  to 
us  questions  under  the  seemly  disguise  oj 
scientific  phraseology  and  polite  circumlocu« 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


487 


tion,  which,  if  expressed  in  the  bare  and  rude 
vernacular,  would  almost  be  as  nauseous  as 
his  draughts  and  pills.  Lastly,  there  are 
many  thoughts  which  gain  immensely  by 
mere  novelty  and  variety  of  expression. 
This  the  judicious  poet,  who  knows  that  the 
connection  between  thoughts  and  words  is  as 
intimate  as  that  between  body  and  spirit,  well 
understands.  There  are  thoughts  in  them 
selves  trite  and  common-place,  when  ex 
pressed  in  the  hackneyed  terms  of  common 
life,  which,  if  adorned  by  some  graceful  or 
felicitous  novelty  of  expression,  assume  an 
unwonted  air  of  dignity  and  elegance.  What 
was  trivial,  becomes  striking  ;  and  what  was 
plebeian,  noble. 

COMMON   ERRORS   IN   WRITING  AND 
SPEAKING. 

There  are  many  popular  errors  in  writing 
end  speaking  our  language.  It  may  be  well 
to  notice  some  of  them  here. 

We  often  hear  the  phrase,  from  educated 
lips  at  that,  "  Between  you  and  I. "  It  should 
be,  "  Between  you  and  me." 

Many  persons  say,  "  What  beautiful  bread!" 
It  should  be,  "What  nice  bread!" 

Instead  of,  "A  new  pair  of  shoes,"  say,  "A 
pair  of  new  shoes." 

Do  not  say,  "  Restore  it  back  to  me,"  but 
"Restore  it  to  me." 

Instead  of,  "I  seldom  or  ever  meet  her," 
say,  "  I  seldom  meet  her." 

Instead  of,  "  If  I  am  not  mistaken,"  say, 
"  If  I  mistake  not." 

Do  not  say,  "Not  no  such  thing,"  but 
"  Not  any  such  thing." 

Instead  of,  "I  had  rather  walk,"  say,  "  I 
would  rather  walk." 

Instead  of,  "  Let  you  and  I,"  say,  "  Let 
you  and  me." 

Instead  of,  "Rather  warmish,"  say, 
** Rather  warm." 


Instead  of,  "  What  a  nice  view,"  say, 
"  What  a  beautiful  view." 

Do  not  say,  "  Bred  and  born."  It  should 
be,  "  Born  and  bred." 

Instead  of,  "  If  I  was  him,"  say,  "  If  I 
were  he." 

Do  not  say,  "  I  have  less  friends  than  you." 
It  should  be,  "I  have  fewer  friends  thaA 
you." 

In  reply  to  the  question,  "Who  is  there?" 
or,  "Who  is  it?"  say,  "I,"  or,  "It  is  I;"  and 
not,  "  Me,"  or,  "It  is  me." 

"Whether  I  be  present  or  no,"  is  wrong. 
It  should  be,  "Whether  I  be  present  or  not" 

.Instead  of,  "I  had  better  go,"  say,  "It 
were  better  that  I  should  go." 

"A  quantity  of  people,"  is  wrong.  It 
should  be,  "A  number  of  people." 

"Six  weeks  back,"  is  a  barbarism.  It 
should  be,  "  Six  weeks  ago." 

"A  new  pair  of  gloves."  It  should  be, 
"A  pair  of  new  gloves." 

Instead  of  saying,  "He  was  in  eminent 
danger,"  say,  "  He  was  in  imminent  dan 
ger." 

" Thinks  I  to  myself,"  " Thinks  I,"  "Says 
I,"  "Says  he,"  are  vulgarisms  and  should  be 
avoided. 

Instead  of,  "I  only  want  ten  cents,"  say 
"  I  want  only  ten  cents." 

"  Because  why  ?  "  is  a  barbarism.  It  should 
be  simply,  "Why?" 

"  The  best  of  the  two,"  is  wrong.  Say, 
"The  better  of  the  two." 

"  There's  fifty,"  is  incorrect.  It  should  be, 
"There  are  fifty." 

"  He  need  not  do  it,"  is  wrong.  Say,  "  He 
needs  not  do  it." 

Instead  of,  "It  was  spoke  in  my  presence,* 
say,  "It  was  spoken  in  my  presence.1 

"She  said,  said  she,"  is  vulgar,  as  well  as 
incorrect.  It  should  be,  "She  said." 

Instead  of  saying,  "  My  clothes  have  grown 


488 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


too  small  for  me,"  say,  "  I  have  grown  too 
Btout  for  my  clothes."  The  change  is  in  you, 
not  in  your  clothes. 

Do  not  say,  "On  either  side  of  the  street." 
It  should  be,  "On  each  side  of  the  street." 

"  I  took  you  for  another  person,"  is  in 
correct.  It  should  be,  '•  I  mistook  you  for 
another  person." 

Instead  of,  "  His  health  has  been  shook," 
say,  "His  health  has  been  shaken." 

Instead  of,  "  That  there  man,"  say,  "That 
man." 

Instead  of,  "  Somehow  or  another,"  say, 
"  Somehow  or  other." 

Instead  of,  "Will  I  do  this  for  you?" 
say,  "  Shall  I  do  this  for  you  ?  " 

Instead  of,  "What  will  I  do?"  say, 
What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

Instead  of,  "Following  up  a  principle," 
say,  "  Guided  by  a  principle." 

Instead  of  saying,  "  I  belong  to  the  .vla- 
Bonic  order,"  say,  "  I  am  a  member  of  the 
Masonic  order." 

Instead  of,  "  I  enjoy  bad  health,"  say, 
"  My  health  is  not  good." 

"  Better  nor  that,  "  is  vulgar  and  wrong. 
It  should  be,  "  Better  than  that." 

Instead  of  saying,  "She  was  remarkable 
pretty,"  say,  "  She  was  remarkably  pretty." 

Instead  of,  "  We  think  on  you,"  say, 
"We  think  of  you." 

Instead  of,  "  By  this  means,"  say,  "  By 
these  means." 

Instead  of,  "  All  that  was  wanting,"  say, 
"  All  that  was  wanted." 

Instead  of,  "  He  is  a  bad  statesman,"  say, 
"  He  is  not  a  statesman." 

Instead  of  saying,  "  I  am  going  over  the 
bridge,"  say,  "  I  am  going  across  the 
bridge." 

Instead  of  saying,  "  I  left  you  behind  at 
Omaha,"  say,  "  I  left  you  behind  me  at 
Omaha." 


Instead  of  saying,  "  He  ascended  up  the 
mountain,"  say,  "  He  ascended  the  moun 
tain." 

Instead  of,  "  Mine  is  so  good  as  yours," 
say,  "  Mine  is  as  good' as  yours." 

Instead  of,  "  Adequate  for,"  say,  "  Ade 
quate  to." 

The  phrase,  "  Pure  and  unadulterated, 'f 
is  a  repetition  of  terms.  If  a  thing  is  pure, 
it  is  necessarily  unadulterated. 

Instead  of  saying,  "  They  are  not  what 
nature  designed  them,"  say,  "  They  are  not 
what  nature  designed  them  to  be." 

Instead  of,  "  How  do  you  do  ? "  say, 
"  How  are  you  ?  " 

Instead  of,  "  To  be  given  away  gratis," 
say,  "  To  be  given  away." 

Instead  of,  "I  acquit  you  from,"  say,  "  I 
acquit  you  of." 

Instead  of,  "  I  live  opposite  the  park,"  say, 
"I  live  opposite  to  the  park." 

Instead  of,  "The  want  of  wisdom,  truth 
and  honor  are  more  visible,"  say,  "The  want 
of  wisdom,  truth  and  honoris  more  visible." 

Instead  of,  "A  surplus  over  and  above," 
say,  "  A  surplus." 

Instead  of,  "A  winter's  morning,"  say, 
"A  winter,  or  wintry,  morning." 

Instead  of,  "I  will  send  it  conformable  to 
your  orders,"  say,  "I  will  send  it  conformably 
to  your  orders." 

Instead  of,  "This  ten  days  or  more,"  say, 
"  These  ten  days  or  more." 

Instead  of,  "I  confide  on  you,"  say,  "I 
confide  in  you." 

Instead  of,  "As  soon  as  ever,"  say,  "As 
soon  as." 

Instead  of,  "I  differ  with  you,"  say,  "I 
differ  from  you." 

Instead  of,  "I  am  averse  from  that,"  say, 
"I  am  averse  to  that." 

Instead  of,  "  The  very  best,"  or,  "The  very 
worst,"  say,  "The  best."  or,  "The  worst" 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


489 


Instead  of,  "  No  one  has'nt  called,"  say, 
"No  one  has  called." 

Two  negatives  make  an  affirmative.  Thus, 
to  say,  "  Don't  give  that  child  no  more 
sugar,"  is  equivalent  to  saying,  "  Give  that 
child  some  more  sugar." 

Instead  of  saying,  "I  won't  never  do  it 
again,"  say,  "I  will  never  do  it  again." 

Instead  of,  "I  am  conversant  about  it," 
say,  "I  am  conversant  with  it" 

Instead  of,  "He  died  by  consumption," 
say,  "He  died  of  consumption." 

Instead  of,  "The  effort  I  am  making  for 
arranging  this  matter,"  say,  "The  effort  I  am 
making  to  arrange  this  matter." 

Instead  of  saying, "  Your  obedient  humble 
servant,"  say,  "Your  obecUent  servant." 

Instead  of,  "You  are  taller  than  me,"  say, 
"You  are  taller  than  I." 

Instead  of,  "You  are  mistaken,"  say,  "You 
mistake." 

Instead  of,  "I  suspect  the  veracity  of  his 
story,"  say,  "I  doubt  the  truth  of  his  story." 

Instead  of,  "  He  was  too  young  to  have 
suffered  much,"  say,  "He  was  too  young  to 
suffer  much." 

Instead  of,  "  I  hope  you'll  think  nothing 
on  it,"  say,  "I  hope  you'll  think  nothing  of 
it." 

Instead  of,  "  His  opinions  are  approved  of 
by  all,"  say,  "His  opinions  are  approved  by 
all." 

Instead  of,  "  Handsome  is  as  handsome 
does,"  say,  "Handsome  is  who  handsome 
does." 

Instead  of,  "In  case  I  succeed,"  say,  "If  I 
succeed." 

Instead  of,  "They  loved  one  another,"  say, 
"They  loved  each  other." 

Instead  of,  "  The  cake  is  all  eat  up,"  say, 
"  The  cake  is  eaten." 

Instead  of,  "The  river  isall  froze  up,"  say, 
"The  river  is  frozen." 


Instead  of,  "A  large  enough  house,"  say, 
"A  house  large  enough." 

Instead  of,  "We  are  travelling  slow,"  say, 
"We  are  travelling  slowly," 

Instead  of,  "  It  is  raining  hard,"  say,  "  It 
is  raining  fast." 

Instead  of  saying,  "  The  box  fell  on  the 
floor,"  say,  "  The  box  fell  to  the  floor." 

Instead  of  saying,  "  He  is  noways  to 
blame,"  say,  "He  is  nowise  to  blame.-' 

Instead  of  saying,  "  He  is  tall  in  compari 
son  to  her,"  say,  "He  is  tall  in  comparison 
with  her." 

Instead  of,  "I  went  for  to  see  him,"  say, 
"1  went  to  see  him." 

Instead  of,  "He  jumped  off  the  platform," 
say,  "He  jumped  from  the  platform." 

Instead  of,  "A  man  ot  eighty  years  of 
age,"  say,  "A  man  eighty  years  old." 

Instead  of,  "No,  thank'ee,"  say,  "No,  I 
thank  you." 

Instead  of,  "I  cannot  continue  without 
farther  means,"  say,  "I  cannot  continue 
without  further  means." 

Instead  of,  "I  thought  I  should  have  won 
this  game,"  say,  "I  thought  I  should  win 
this  game." 

Instead  of,  "He  has  got  money,"  say,  "He 
has  money." 

Instead  of,  "I  have  got  to  be  there,"  say, 
"I  must  be  there." 

Instead  of  "Have  you  saw?"  say,  "Have 
you  seen?" 

Instead  of,  "I  seen  him  do  it,"  say,  "I  saw 
him  do  it." 

Instead  of,  "No  other  but,"  say,  "No 
other  than." 

Instead  of,  "He  rose  up  from  his  chair," 
say,  "He  rose  from  his  chair." 

Instead  of,  "I  knew  it  previous  to  his  tell 
ing  me,"  say,  "I  knew  it  previously  to  his 
telling  me." 


49C 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


Instead  of,  "It  is  equally  of  the  same 
value,"  say,  "It  is  of  the  same  value." 

Instead  of,  "I  could  scarcely  believe  but 
what,"  say,  "I  could  scarcely  believe  but 
that." 

Instead  of,  "You  was  out  when  he  was 
here,"  say,  "You  were  out  when  he  was 
here." 

Instead  of,  "She  was  a  woman  notorious 
for  her  beauty,"  say,  "  She  was  a  woman 
noted  for  her  beauty." 

Instead  of,  "I  do  so  every  now  and  then," 
say,  "I  do  so  occasionally." 

Instead  of,  "  Nobody  else  but  me,"  say, 
"Nobody  but  me." 

Instead  of,  "He  fell  down  from  the  roof," 
say,  "He  fell  from  the  roof." 

Instead  of,  "  Except  I  am  detained,"  say, 
"Unless  I  am  detained." 

Instead  of,  "What  may,  or   what   might 

your  name  be?"  say,  "What  is  your  name  ?  " 

Instead  of,  "She  was  a  woman  celebrated 

for  "her  wickedness,"  say,  "She  was  a  woman 

notorious  for  her  wickedness." 

Instead  of,  "  I  find  him  in  clothes,"  say, 
"I  provide  him  with  clothes." 

Instead  of,  "He  stands  six  foot  high,"  say, 
"He  is  six  feet  high." 

Instead  of,  "The  two  first,  the  three  first, 
etc.,"  say,  "The  first  two,  the  first  three,  etc." 
Instead  of,  "  The  first   of  all,"  "  The  last 
of  all,"  say,  "The  first,"  "  The  last." 
Instead  of,  "Shay,"  say  "Chaise." 
Instead  of,  "  The  then  Government,"  say, 
"  The  Government  of  that  time,  period,  etc." 
Instead    of,    "For   ought    I    know,"  say, 
"  For  aught  I  know." 

Instead  of,  "  Before  I  do  that  I  must  first 
ask  leave,"  say,  "  Before  I  do  that  I  must  ask 
leave." 

Instead  of,  "I  never  dance  whenever  I  can 
help  it,"  say,  "  I  never  dance  when  I  can 
help  it." 


Instead  of,  "  The  observation  of  the  rule," 
say,  "  The  observance  of  the  rule." 

Instead  of,  "To  get  over  this  trouble,"  say, 
"  To  overcome  this  trouble." 

Instead  of,  "  He  is  a  very  rising  person," 
say,  "  He  is  rising  rapidly." 

Instead   of,    "I    expected    to  have  found 
you,  say,  "  I  expected  to  find  you." 

Instead  of,  "I  said  so  over  again,"  say,  "I 
repeated  it." 

Instead   of,    "Will   you    enter   in?"    say, 
"Will  you  enter?  " 

Instead  of,  "  Undeniable  references,"  say, 
"  Unexceptionable  references." 

Instead   of,    "  Undispu table   proofs,"   say, 
"  Indisputable  proofs." 

Instead  of,  "  Whatsomever,"  say,  "  What, 
soever." 

Instead  of,  "  When  he  was  come  back," 
say,  "  He  had  come  back." 

Instead  of,  "  Two   spoonsful    of  sugar," 
say,  "  Two  spoonfuls  of  sugar." 

Instead  of,  "  Was  you  talking  just  now  ?  '* 
say,  "  Were  you  talking  just  now  ?  " 

Instead  of,  "  Him  and  me  went  together," 
say,  "  He  and  I  went  together." 

Instead  of,    "  He  has  went   home,"  say, 
"  He  has  gone  home." 

Instead  of,  "I  intend  to  summons  him," 
say,  "  I  intend  to  summon  him." 

Instead  of,  "  She  is  now  forsook  by  her 
"friends,"  say,  "  She  is  now  forsaken  by  her 
friends." 

Instead  of,  "  Who  done  it?  "  say,  "  Who 
did  it  ?  " 

Instead  of,  "  Who's  got  my  book  ?  "  say, 
"  Who  has  my  book  ?  " 

Instead  of,  "I  have  rode  ten  miles  to 
day,"  say,  "I  have  ridden  ten  miles  to-day." 

Instead  of,  "  Set  down,"  say,  "Sit down." 

Instead  of,  "  Have  you  lit  the  fire?  "  say, 
"  Have  you  lighted  the  fire  ?  " 

Instead    of,  "  I    have   always    gave   him 


ART  OF  WRITING  WELL. 


491 


good  advice,"  say,  "  I  have  always  given 
him  good  advice." 

Instead  of,  "Have  you  seen  the  Miss 
Browns  yet  ?  "  say,  "  Have  you  seen  the 
Misses  Brown  yet  ?  " 

Instead  of,  "  French  is  spoke  in  polite  so 
ciety,"  say,  "  French  is  spoken  in  polite 
society." 

Instead  of,  "  He  is  now  very  decrepid." 
say,  "  He  is  now  very  decrepit" 

Instead  of,  "  You  have  drank  too  much," 
say,  "You  have  drunk  too  much." 

Instead  of,  "  He  has  broke  a  window," 
say,  "  He  has  broken  a  window." 

Instead  of,  "Who  do  you  mean?"  say, 
"Whom  do  you  mean  ?  " 

Instead  of,  "  It  was  them  who  did  it," 
say,  "  It  was  they  who  did  it." 

Instead  of,  "  It  is  me  who  am  in  fault," 
say,  "  It  is  I  who  am  in  fault." 

Instead  of,  "  If  I  was  rich,  I  would  do 
this,"  say,  "  If  I  were  rich,  I  would  do 
this." 

Instead  of,  "It  is  surprising  the  fatigue 
he  undergoes,"  say,  "  The  fatigue  he  under 
goes  is  surprising." 

Instead  of,  "  He  knows  little  or  nothing 
of  the  matter,"  say,  "  He  knows  little,  if 
anything,  of  the  matter." 

Instead  of,  "  He  is  condemned  to  be 
hung,"  say,  "  He  is  condemned  to  be 
hanged." 

Instead  of,  "We  conversed  together  on 
the  subject,"  say,  "We  conversed  on  the 
subject." 

Instead  of,  "  He  had  sank  before  we  could 
reach  him,"  say,  "He  had  sunk  before  we 
could  reach  him." 

Instead  of,  "  His  loss  shall  be  long  re 
gretted,"  say,  "His  loss  will  be  long  re 
gretted." 

Instead  of,  "He  speaks  distinct,"  say,  "He 
speaks  distinctly." 


Instead  of,  "We  laid  down  to  sleep,"  say, 
"  We  lay  down  to  sleep." 

Instead  of,  "Let  it  be  never  so  good,"  say, 
"  Let  it  be  ever  so  good." 

Instead  of,  "  He  is  known  through  the  land,'* 
say,  "He  is  known  throughout  the  land." 

Instead  of,  "I  lost  near  ten  dollars,"  say-. 
"I  lost  nearly  ten  dollars." 

Instead  of,  "  I  am  stopping  with  a  friend,"" 
say,  "I  am  staying  with  a  friend." 

Instead  of,  "He  was  now  retired  from 
public  life,"  say,  "He  had  now  retired  from 
public  life." 

Instead  of,  "Who  did  you  inquire  for?" 
say,  "For  whom  did  you  inquire?" 

Instead  of,  "Such  another  mistake,"  say, 
"Another  such  mistake." 

Instead  of,  "  He  combined  together  these 
facts,"  say,  "He  combined  these  facts." 

Instead  of,  "  He  covered  it  over  with  earth," 
say,  "He  covered  it  with  earth." 

Instead  of,  "I  acquiesce  with  you,"  say,  "I 
acquiesce  in  your  proposal,  or  in  your 
opinion." 

Instead  of,  "He  is  a  distinguished  anti 
quarian,"  say,  "He  is  a  distinguished  anti 
quary." 

Instead  of,  "  He  did  it  unbeknown  to  us," 
say,  "  He  did  it  unknown  to  us." 

Instead  of,  "I  fear  I  shall  discommode 
you,"  say,  "I  fear  I  will  incommode  you." 

Instead  of,  "  I  could  not  forbear  from  doing 
it,"  say,  "I  could  not  forbear  doing  it." 

Instead  of,  "He  is  a  man  on  whom  you 
can  confide,"  say,  "He  is  a  man  in  whom 
you  can  confide." 

Instead  of,  "I  can  do  it  equally  as  well  as 
he,"  say,  "I  can  do  it  as  well  as  he." 

Instead  of,  "I  am  thinking  he  will  soon 
arrive,"  say,  "I  think  he  will  soon  arrive." 

Instead  of,  "He  was  obliged  to  fly  the 
country,"  say,  "  He  was  obliged  to  flee  the 
country." 


492 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


Instead  of,  "A  house  to  let,"  say,  "A  house 
to  be  let." 

Instead  of,  "  Before  I  do  that  I  must  first 
be  paid,"  say,  "Before  I  do  that  I  must  be 
paid." 

Instead  of,  "A  couple  of  dollars,"  say, 
"Two  dollars."  The  word  couple  implies  a 
union  of  two  objects. 

Instead  of,  "  You  are  like  to  be,"  say,  "You 
are  likely  to  be." 

Instead  of,  "All  over  the  land,"  say,  "  Over 
all  the  land." 

Instead  of,  "  I  shall  fall  down,"  say,  "  I 
shall  fall." 

Instead  of,  "Either  of  the  three,"  say,  "Any 
of  the  three." 

Instead  of,  "They  both  met,"  say,  "They 
met." 

Instead  of,  "  From  hence,"  say,  "Hence." 

Instead  of,  "From  thence,"  say,  "Thence." 

Instead  of,  "  From  here  to  there,"  say, 
"  From  this  place  to  that" 


Instead  of,  "Either  of  them  are,"  say, 
"Each  of  them  is." 

Instead  of,  "A  most  perfect  work,"  say, 
"A  perfect  work." 

Instead  of,  "  The  other  one,"  or,  "Another 
one,"  say,  "The  other,"  or,  "Another." 

Instead  of,  "My  every  hope,"  say,  "All 
my  hopes." 

Instead  of,  "For  good  and  all, "say,  "For 


ever. ' 


Instead  of,  "  He  lives  at  Troy,"  say,  "  He 
lives  in  Troy." 

Instead  of,  "I  am  coming  to  your  house," 
say,  "I  am  going  to  your  house." 

Instead  of,  "I  suspicioned  him,"  say,  "I 
suspected  him." 

Instead  of,  "They  mutually  loved  each 
other,"  say,  "  They  loved  each  other." 

Instead  of,  "Of  two  evils  choose  the  least," 
say,  "  Of  two  evils  choose  the  less." 

Instead  of,  "  If  I  were  her,  I  would  do  it," 
say,  "If  I  were  she,  I  would  do  it" 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 


The  Art  of  Writing  Poetry,  with  Practical  Instructions 

for  Composing  Verses. 


S  MOST  persons  are  given,  at  some 
period  of  their  lives,  to  writing  po 
etry,  it  seems  not  inappropriate  to 
devote  a  portion  of  this  work  to  a  few  prac 
tical  remarks  upon  that  subject. 

Poetry  is  the  language  of  the  imagination, 
the  idea  generally  entertained  that  it  consists 
in  writing  of  rhymes,  and  in  the  proper  ar 
rangement  of  the  verses  and  words  employed, 
is  erroneous.  Verses  may  be  arranged  with 
the  most  precise  skill,  so  that  the  keenest 
critic  shall  be  unable  to  detect  a  flaw  in 
their  construction,  and  yet  may  not  be  po 
etry.  On  the  other  hand,  a  prose  composi 
tion  may  be  rich  in  the  truest  poetry.  The 
words  or  verses  are  but  the  dress  in  which 
the  thought  is  clothed.  It  is  the  thought, 
the  idea,  or  the  picture  painted  by  the  imag 
ination  that  is  poetry.  The  famous  expres 
sion  of  Menon,  "  Like  the  sandal-tree,  which 
sheds  a  perfume  on  the  axe  which  fells  it,  we 
should  love  our  enemies,"  though  written  in 
prose,  is  poetic  in  the  highest  degree.  This 
distinction  of  the  poetic  principle  should  be 
carefully  borne  in  mind  by  those  who  aspire 
to  write  verse. 

The  usual  form  of  poetry  is  verse,  and  it 
is  most  common  to  adorn  it  with  rhyme. 

Versification  is  the  art  of  making  verses. 
The  word  stanza  is  frequently  used  for  verse, 
but  improperly  so.  A  verse  consists  of  a 
single  line.  A  stanza  consists  of  a  number 
of  lines  regularly  adjusted  to  each  other. 
We  may,  then,  define  a  verse  as  a  line  con 
sisting  of  a  certain  succession  of  long  and 

493 


short  syllables.  The  half  of  a  verse  is  called 
a  hemistitch.  Two  lines  or  verses  constitute 
a  distich,  or  couplet. 

The  standard  by  which  verse  is  measured 
is  called  metre.  This  depends  on  the  num 
ber  of  the  syllables  and  the  position  of  the 
accents. 

One  of  the  most  common  errors  with  those 
who  attempt  to  write  poetry  is  the  oversight 
of  proper  metre.  There  is  no  necessity  foi 
this ;  anyone  who  can  count  is  able  to  tell 
the  number  of  syllables  in  a  line. 

In  order  to  regulate  the  proper  succession 
oflong  and  short  syllables,  verses  are  divided 
into  certain  measures,  called  feet.  This  term 
is  applied  because  the  voice,  in  repeating  the 
lines,  steps  along,  as  it  were,  in  a  kind  of 
measured  pace.  This  division  into  feet  de 
pends  entirely  upon  what  is  called  the  quan 
tity  of  the  syllables;  that  is,  whether  they 
are  long  or  short,  without  reference  to  the 
words. 

Two  kinds  of  verse  are  used  by  poets^ 
rhyme  and  blank  verse.  Rhyme  is  character^ 
ized  bya  similarity  of  sound  at  the  end  of  cer 
tain  definitely  arranged  lines.  For  example : 

All  thoughts,  all  passions,  all  ....  delights, 
Whatever  stirs  this  mortal  ....  frame, 

Are  but  the  ministers  of  ....  love, 
And  feed  his  sacred  ....  flame. 

What  is  the  baby  thinking  ....  about  ? 

Very  wonderful  things  no  ....  doubt. 

Blank  verse  is  a  combination  of  lines  that 
do  not  rhyme.  It  was  the  earliest  form  of 
poetry  used,  and  the  only  form  attempted  in 
Europe  until  the  Middle  Ages,  when  the 


494 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


minstrels  and  poet  of  that  period  introduced 
the  novelty  of  rhyme.  It  is  used  principally 
in  dramatic  compositions,  descriptive  and 
heroic  poems,  and  the  like. 

The  following  from  Shakspeare's  play  of 
"As  you  like  it,"  is  a  fair  sample  of  blank 
verse : 

"  I  have  neither  the  scholar's  melancholy, 
Which  is  emulation  ;  nor  the  musician's, 
Which  is  fantastical ;  nor  the  courtier's, 
Which  is  pride  ;  nor  the  soldier's,  which  is 
A.mbition  ;  nor  the  lawyers,  which  is  politic ; 
Nor  the  lady's,  which  is  nice ;  nor  the  lover's, 
Which  is  all  of  these  ;  but  it  is  a  melancholy 
Of  mine  own ;  compounded  of  many  simples, 
Extracted  from  many  objects,  and,  indeed, 
The  sundry  contemplation  of  my  travels ; 
In  which  my  often  rumination  wraps  me 
In  a  most  humorous  sadness." 

Accent  and  Feet. 

A  foot  may  sometimes  consist  of  a  single 
word,  or,  again,  it  may  comprise  two  or  three 
different  words,  or  be  composed  of  parts  of 
different  words. 

In  English  verse,  eight  kinds  of  feet  are 
employed.  Four  of  these  are  feet  of  two 
syllables,  and  four  are  feet  of  three  syllables. 

The  feet  composed  of  two  syllables  are  the 
Trochee,  the  Iambus,  the  Spondee,  and  the 
Pyrrhic.  Those  consisting  of  three  syllables 
are  the  Dactyle,  the  Amphibrach,  the  Ana 
paest,  and  the  Tribrach. 

The  Trochee  is  composed  of  one  long  and 
one  short  syllable  ;  as,  glory. 

The  Iambus  consists  of  one  short  syllable 
/ind  one  long  one  ;  as,  betray. 

The  Spondee  is  composed  of  two  long 
syllables ;  as,  high  day. 

The  Pyrrhic  is  composed  of  two  short  syl 
lables  ;  as  on  the  dry  land. 

The  Dactyle  is  composed  of  one  long  syl 
lable  and  two  short  ones;  as,  holiness,  quietly. 

The  Amphibrach  is  composed  of  a  short, 
a  long,  and  a  short  syllable ;  as  delightful, 
removal,  costumZr. 


The  Anapaest  is  composed  of  two  short 
syllables  and  a  long  one ;  as,  contravene, 
separate. 

The  Tribrach  is  composed  of  three  short 
syllables ;  as,  happiness. 

The  Iambus,  the  Trochee,  the  Anapaest, 
and  the  Dactyle  are  most  frequently  used, 
and  verses  may  be  composed  wholly  or  chief 
ly  of  them.  The  others  are  termed  "  second« 
ary  feet,"  because  they  are  used  only  to  vary 
the  harmony  of  the  verse. 

Divisions  of  English  Verse. 

English  verse  is  divided  into  four  classes, 
distinguished  by  the  feet  of  which  each  is 
composed,  viz.  :  the  Iambic,  the  Trochaic, 
the  Anapaestic  and  the  Dactylic.  Some 
writers  hold  that  the  Dactylic  is  not,  strictly 
speaking,  a  distinct  divison,  but  is  nothing 
more  than  the  Anapaestic  with  the  first  two 
unaccented  syllables  omitted. 

"  Every  species  of  English  verse,"  says 
Parker,  "  regularly  terminates  with  an  ac 
cented  syllable ;  but  every  species  also  ad 
mits  at  the  end  an  additional  unaccented 
syllable,  producing  (if  the  verse  be  in  rhyme) 
a  double  rhyme  ;  that  is  a  rhyme  extending 
to  two  syllables,  as  the  rhyme  must  always 
commence  on  the  accented  syllable.  This  ad 
ditional  syllable  often  changes  the  character 
of  the  verse  from  grave  to  gay,  from  serious 
to  jocose ;  but  it  does  not  affect  the  measure 
or  rhyme  of  the  preceding  part  of  the  verse. 
A  verse  thus  lengthened  is  called  hyper- 
meter,  or  over  meter." 

Specimens  of  the  Various  Styles. 

Different  kinds  of  feet  frequently  occur  in 
all  the  different  kinds  of  verse  ;  but  it  is  not 
always  possible  to  determine  them  with  ac 
curacy.  The  Iambus,  the  Trochee,  the 
Spondee,  and  the  Pyrrhic  are  easily  recog 
nizable  ;  but  the  Dactyle,  the  Anapaest,  and 


ART  OF  WRITING  POETRY. 


495 


the  Tribrach  are  not  so  readily  discrimin 
ated,  as  poetic  license  allows  the  writer  to 
make  the  foot  in  question  a  Trochee,  a 
Spondee,  or  a  Pyrrhic.  The  advantage  of 
having  a  good  ear  for  rhythm  is  evident; 
it  renders  the  lines  musical. 


Iambic  Terse. 

Pure  Iambic  verse  is  composed  of  lam- 
busses  alone.  The  accent  is  uniformly  on 
the  even  syllables.  We  give  below  speci 
mens  of  the  various  feet  used  in  writing  this 
style  of  verse : 


One  foot. 
Two  feet. 
Threefeet. 
four  feet. 
Five  feet. 

Six  feet. 
Seven  feet. 


I  fly 
On  high. 


We  can 
Beyond 


not  see 
the  sea. 


The  grim  |  and  blood  ]  y  band. 
With  its  |  relent  |  less  hand. 

Come  now  |  again  |  thy  woes  |  impart, 
Tell  all  |  thy  sor  |  rows,  all  |  thy  sin. 

While  to  |  his  arms  |  the  blush  |  ing  bride  |  he  took, 
To  seeming  |  sad  |  ness  she  |  composed  |  her  look. 

The  day  |  is  past  |  ana  gone ;  |  the  ev  |  'ning  shades  \  appear. 

When  all  |  thy  mer  |  cies,  O  |  my  God,  |  my  ris  |  ing  soul  [  surveys, 
Transport  |  ed  with  |  the  sight,  |  I'm  lost  |  in  wond  |  er,  love,  |  and  praise. 


NOTE. — This  style  of  verse  is  rarely  written  as  above  in  modern  poetry,  but  is  divided, 
into  four  lines,  as  follows : 

When  all  |  thy  mer  |  cies,  O  |  my  God, 

My  ris  |  ing  soul  |  surveys. 
Transport  |  ed  with  |  the  sight,  |  I'm  lost 

In  wond  |  er,  love,  |  and  praise. 


(Light  feet. 


Glory  |  to  thee,  |  my  God,  |  this  night,  |  for  all  |  the  bless  |  ings  of  |  the  light: 
Keep  me,  |  O  keep  |  me,  King  |  of  kings,  |  under  |  thy  own  |  almight  |  y  wings. 


This  couplet  -"^nld  generally  be  written  thus : 

Glory  |  to  thee,  |  my  God,  |  this  night, 
For  all  |  the  bless  |  ings  of  |  the  light  : 
Keep  me,  |  O  keep  |  me,  King  |  of  kings, 
Under  |  thy  own  |  almight  |  y  wings. 

Trochaic  Verse. 

In  Trochaic  verse  the  accent  is  uniformly  on  the  odd  syllables. 
One  foot. 


1  wo  feet. 
Threefeet. 
Four  fee* 
FivefeeL 


Shining, 
Twining. 

Rich  the  |  treasure, 
Sweet  the  I  pleasure. 

Go  where  |  glory  |  waits  thee, 
Yet  when  |  fame  e  |  lates  thee. 

Stars  from  |  out  the  |  skies  are  |  peeping, 
Nature  |  now  is  |  softly  |  sleeping. 

Ye  that  |  do  des  |  pise  the  |  lowly  |  worker. 


496 

Six  feet. 
Seven  feet. 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


Farewell,  |  brethren !  |  farewell,  |  sisters!  1  I  am  |  dying! 
Once  up  |  on  a  |  midnight  |  dreary,  |  while  I  1  ponder'd  |  -wreak  and  \  weary. 

Anapaestic  Verse. 

The  accent  in  Anapaestic  verse  is  upon  the  last  syllable. 
One  foot. 


Two  feet. 


Three  feet. 
Four  feet. 


I  ordain, 
All  in  vain. 

Hark  !  above,  [  the  soft  dove 
Sings  of  love  |  as  we  rove. 


I  am  mon  |  arch  of  all  |  I  survey. 
At  the  close  |  of  the  day  |  when  the  ham  |  let  is  still. 

Dactylic  Verse. 
In  Dactylic  verse  the  accent  is  upon  the  first  syllable  of  each  successive  three. 


One  foot. 
Two  feet. 
Three  feel. 

Four  feet. 
Five  feet. 


Joyfully, 
Fearfully. 

Merrily  |  welcome  us, 
Safe  on  the  |  shining  sand. 

Speak  to  her  |  tenderly,  \  lovingly, 
Chide  her  but  |  gently  and  |  soothingly. 

Owning  her  |  weakness,  her  |  evil  be  |  havior. 
Come  to  me  ]  beautiful  |  visions  of  |  happier  |  days  thau  this! 


Other  Styles. 

Pyrrhic.    On  the  tall  tree. 

Spondee.    The  wide  sea. 

Amphibrach.  Delightful,  Unequal,  Coeval. 

Tribrach.    Numerable,  Conquerable. 

Pauses. 

In  reading  poetry,  a  pause  should  be  made 
at  the  end  of  each  line.  It  should  not  be 
too  long,  but  should  be  sufficient  to  mark 
the  measure  and  the  end  of  the  line.  It  is 
made  by  a  very  brief  suspension  of  the 
voice,  without  any  change  in  the  tone  or 
accent.  It  is  a  mistake  to  read  poetry  as 
^though  it  were  prose,  running  the  lines  to 
gether,  and  so  losing  the  music,  which  is  one 
of  the  greatest  charms  of  verse. 

Another  pause  is  often  required  in  the  body 
of  a  verse,  for  the  sake  of  the  sense.  This  is 
called  The  Ccssura^  or  The  Ccssural  Pause. 


Its  position  may  be  generally  ascertained  bv 
the  grammatical  construction  of  the  sentence 
and  the  punctuation,  as  these  naturally  indi 
cate  where  the  sense  either  demands  or  per 
mits  a  pause.  In  the  following  lines  the 
place  for  the  caesura  is  indicated  by  an 
asterisk : 

The  Saviour  conies*  by  ancient  bards  fore 
told. 

Exalt  thy  towering  head*  and  lift  thy  eyes. 

Caesar*  the  world's  great  master*  and  his 
own. 

Classification  of  Poetry. 

English  poetry  may  be  classified  as  follows  ; 
Epic,  Dramatic,  Lyric,  Elegaic,  Pastoral  and 
Didactic. 

An  Epic  poem  is  a  romantic  tale  in  verse, 
and  embraces  many  incidents  and  numerous 
characters.  It  is  narrative  and  descriptive  in 


ART  OF  WRITING  POETRY. 


497 


character,  and  heroic  in  style.  The 
of  Virgil,  The  Iliad  and  Odyssey  of  Homer, 
and  the  Paradise  Lost  of  Milton,  are  the 
most  notable  examples  of  this  style. 

A  Drama  is  to  some  extent,  epic  in  char 
acter,  but  is  so  constructed  that  the  tale,  in 
stead  of  being  merely  related  by  the  writer, 
is  made  to  pass,  by  the  action  of  the  char 
acters  or  personages  of  the  story,  before  the 
eyes  of  the  reader.  Every  actor  in  the  drama 
has  his  representative  on  the  stage,  who 
speaks  the  language  of  the  poet  as  if  it  were 
his  own  ;  and  every  action  is  literally  per 
formed  or  imitattC  as  if  it  were  of  natural 
occurrence. 

In  the  construction  of  a  drama,  rules  have 
been  laid  down  by  the  critics,  the  principal 
of  which  relate  to  the  three  Unities,  as  they 
are  called,  of  action,  of  time,  and  of  place. 
Unity  01  action  requires  that  a  single  object 
should  be  kept  in  view.  No  underplot  or  sec 
ondary  action  is  allowable,  unless  it  tend  to 
advance  the  prominent  purpose.  Unity  of 
time  requires  that  the  events  should  be  limited 
to  a  shoi  L  period,  seldom  if  ever  more  than 
a  single  day.  Unity  of  place  requires  the 
confinement  ol  the  actions  represented  within 
narrow  geographical  limits.  Another  rule  of 
dramatical  criticism  is  termed  poetical  justice-, 
by  which  it  is  understood  that  the  personages 
shall  be  rewarded  or  punished,  according  to 
their  respective  desert.  A  regular  drama  is  an 
historical  picture,  in  which  we  perceive  unity 
of  design,  and  compare  every  portion  of  the 
composition  as  harmonizing  with  the  whole. 

Dramatic  poetry  includes  tragedies,  come 
dies,  melodramas,  and  operas, 
i  Lyric  poetry  is  that  style  of  verse  which  is 
written  to  accompany  the  lyre  or  other  musi 
cal  instrument.  This  class  of  poetry  is  the 
most  popular,  and  embraces  the  songs  of  the 
various  nations  of  the  world.  It  includes 
hymns,  odes,  atd  sonnets. 

,>2  0 


An  Elegy  is  a  poem  of  song  expressive  of 
sorrow.  It  is  distinct  from  an  epitaph,  as 
the  latter  is  strictly  an  inscription  on  a  tomb 
stone.  The  noblest  specimens  of  this  class 
of  poetry  are  Gray's  "  Elegy  Written  in  a 
Country  Church-yard  "  and  Tennyson's  "In 
Memoriam." 

A  Pastoral  is  a  tale,  song,  or  drama,  sup 
posed  to  have  been  recited,  sung,  or  per 
formed  by  shepherds.  This  form  of  poetry 
was  very  popular  in  ancient  times. 

Didactic  poetry  is  that  which  is  written  for 
the  avowed  purpose  of  conveying  a  moral. 
Campbell's  "Pleasures  of  Hope,"  Thompson's 
"  Seasons,"  and  Pope's  "Essay  on  Man,"  are 
poems  of  this  class. 

The  Ode.  The  ode  is  the  highest  of  modern 
lyrical  composition.  It  is  written  in  the  loftiest 
strain,  filled  with  the  noblest  ideas,  and  seeks 
to  inspire  similar  thoughts  in  the  soul  of  the 
reader.  To  this  class  belong  the  hymns  used 
in  religious  worship. 

The  Pczan.  The  Paean  was  a  song  of 
triumph  sung  by  the  ancients  in  honor  of 
Apollo,  on  the  occasion  of  a  victory,  or  to  the 
gods  as  a  thanksgiving  for  the  cessation  or 
cure  of  an  evil. 

The  Ballad.  The  Ballad  is  the  simplest 
form  of  descriptive  poetry,  and  is  written  in 
a  pleasing  style,  so  that  it  may  be  easily  sung 
by  those  who  have,  little  acquaintance  with 
music. 

The  Sonnet.  The  Sonnet  is  composed  of 
fourteen  lines  or  verses  of  equal  length.  It 
properly  consists  of  fourteen  iambic  verses  of 
eleven  syllables,  and  is  divided  into  two  chief 
parts.  The  first  of  these  is  composed  of  two 
divisions,  each  of  four  lines,  called  quatrains ; 
the  second  of  two  divisions  of  three  lines 
each,  called  terzines.  The  lines  are  so  con 
structed  that  the  first  eight  contain  but  two 
rhymes,  and  the  last  six  but  two  more.  In 
the  first  part  the  first  line  must  rhyme  with 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


the  fourth,  fifth,  and  eighth ;  and  the  second 
with  the  third,  sixth,  and  seventh.  In  the 
second  part  the  first,  third,  and  fifth  are 
made  to  rhyme  with  each  other ;  and  the 
second  with  the  fourth  and  sixth. 

The  following  will  show  the  construction 
of  the  sonnet : 

First  time  he  kissed  me,  but  he  only  kissed 

The  fingers  of  this  hand  wherewith  I  write; 

And,  ever  since,  it  grew  more  clean  and  white. 
Slow  to  world  greetings  .  .  quick  with  its  "  Oh  list ! " 
When  the  angels  speak.     A  ring  of  amethyst 

I  could  not  wear  here,  plainer  to  my  sight, 

Than  that  first  kiss.     The  second  passed  in  height 
The  first,  and  sought  the  forehead,  and  half  missed, 
Half  falling  on  the  hair.     O  beyond  meed  ! 

That  was  the  chrism  of  love,  which  love's  own 

crown, 
With  sanctifying  sweetness,  did  precede. 

The  third  upon  my  lips  was  folded  down 
In  perfect,  purple  state  ;  since  when,  indeed, 

I  had  been  proud,  and  said,  "  My  love,  my  own." 

The  Cantata  is  a  composition,  or  song,  of 
a  musical  character,  containing  recitatives 
and  airs,  and  may  be  adapted  to  a  single 
voice,  or  to  many  singers. 

The  Canzonet  is  a  short  song,  containing 
one,  two,  or  three  parts. 

The  Charade.  In  poetry  the  charade  is  a 
composition,  the  subject  of  which  is  a  word 
of  two  syllables,  each  forming  a  distinct  word. 
These  syllables  are  concealed  in  an  enigmat 
ical  description,  first  separately,  and  then 
together.  The  charade  is  always  a  source 
of  amusement  when  the  idea  expressed  in 
language  is  acted  out. 

The  MadigraL  This  is  a  short  lyric  poem, 
adapted  to  express  happy  and  pleasing 
thoughts  on  the  subject  of  love.  It  contains 
not  less  than  four,  nor  more  than  sixteen 
verses  of  eleven  syllables,  with  shorter  verses 
interspersed,  or  of  verses  of  eight  syllables  ir 
regularly  rhymed. 

The  following  is  a  fine  example  of  the 
madigral : 


To  a  Lady  of  the  County  of  Lancaster,  with  a 

Rose. 
If  this  fair  rose  offend  thy  sight, 

Placed  in  thy  bosom  fair, 
'  T  will  blush  to  find  itself  less  white, 
And  turn  L/ancastrian  there. 

But  if  thy  ruby  lip  it  spy, 

As  kiss  it  thou  may'st  deign,  I 

With  envy  pale  'twill  lose  its  dye, 

And  Yorkish  turn  again. 

The  Epigram.  This  is  a  short  poem, 
treating  of  a  single  subject,  and  closing  with 
some  ingenious  and  witty  thought,  which  is 
rendered  interesting  by  being  unexpected. 
An  epigram  should  be  concise.  Its  point 
often  rests  upon  a  witticism  or  verbal  pun ; 
but  the  better  class  of  epigrams  are  marked 
by  fineness  and  delicacy  rather  than  by  smart 
ness  or  repartee. 

The  Impromptu.  This  is  a  poem  written 
on  the  instant,  without  previous  thought  or 
preparation. 

The  Acrostic  is  a  poem  in  which  the  ini 
tial  lines  of  each  line,  taken  in  order  from 
the  top  to  the  b'ottom,  make  up  a  word  or 
phrase,  generally  a  person's  name  or  motto. 
The  following  is  an  example : 

F — riendship,    thou'rt    false !      I    hate   thy   flattering 

smile ! 

R — eturn  to  me  those  years  I  spent  in  vain. 
I — n  early  youth  the  victim  of  thy  guile, 
E — ach  joy  took  wing  ne'er  to  return  again — • 
N— e'er  to  return  ;  for,  chilled  by  hopes  deceived; 
D — ully  the  slow  paced  hours  now  move  along  , 
S — o  changed  the  time,  when,  thoughtless,  I  believed 
H — er  honeyed  words,  and  heard  her  syren  song. 
I — f  e'er,  as  me,  she  lure  some  youth  to  stray, 
P — erhaps,  before  too  late,  he'll  listen  to  my  lay. 

The  Prologue.  This  is  a  short  poem 
spoken  before  the  commencement  of  a 
dramatic  performance,  and  is  designed  as  an 
introduction  to  the  play. 

The  Epilogue  is  a  short  poem  spoken  by 
one  of  the  actors  after  the  close  of  a  dramatic 
performance,  and  sometimes  recapitulates  the 
incidents  of  the  drama. 


ART  OF  WRITING  POETRY. 


499 


The  Parody  is  a  ludicrous  imitation  in 
verse  of  some  serious  subject. 

The  Satire  is  a  poem  in  which  wicked 
ness  and  folly  are  exposed  with  severity,  and 
are  held  up  to  contempt.  A  satire  should 
be  general,  not  personal. 

The  Lampoon,  or  Pasquinade,  is  a  personal 
attack  in  verse,  and  deals  in  abuse  and  vitu 
peration  rather  than  in  argument. 

Long1  and  Common  Metre,  etc. 

In  English  psalmody  the  words  Long, 
Common,  Short,  and  Particular  Metre  are 


employed  to  designate  the  various  styles  of 
psalms  and  hymns  used.  When  each  line  of 
a  stanza  has  eight  syllables,  it  is  called  Long 
Metre,  When  the  first  and  third  lines  have 
eight  syllables,  and  the  second  and  fourth  have 
six  syllables,  it  is  called  Common  Metre. 
When  the  third  line  has  eight,  and  the  rest 
have  six  syllables,  it  is  called  Short  Metre. 
Stanzas  in  Particular  Metre  are  of  various 
kinds,  and  are  not  subject  to  definite  rules. 

Particular  Metre  is  rare,  compared  with 
Long,  Common  and  Short. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 


The  Language  and  Sentiment  of  Flowers. 


"HE  flower  world  is  linked  with  all  the 
finer  sympathies  of  our  nature.  The 
sweet  blossoms  that  cover  the  green 
wood  are  the  delight  of  our  childhood ;  a 
bouquet  is  the  best  ornament  of  girlish  beau 
ty:  the  meetest  offering  from  young  and 
timid  love.  Flowers  deck  the  chamber  of 
old  age,  and  are  the  last  sad  gift  of  sorrow 
to  the  dead. 

It  was  from  the  East  that  we  obtained  a 
language  of  perfume  and  beauty  which  be 
stows  a  meaning  on  buds  and  blossoms, 
though  the  Turkish  and  Arabic  flower- 
language  does  not  much  resemble  ours.  It 
is  formed,  not  by  an  idea  or  sentiment  orig 
inating  in  the  flower  itself,  but  by  its  capa 
city  for  rhyming  with  another  word  ;  that 
is,  the  word  with  which  the  flower  rhymes 
becomes  its  signification. 

La  Mottraie,  the  companion  of  Charles 
XII.,  brought  the  Eastern  language  of 
flowers  to  Europe ;  but  it  was  the  gifted 
I/ady  Mary  Wortley  Montague  who  first 
told  the  English-speaking  world  how  the 
fair  maidens  of  the  East  had  lent  a  mute 
speech  to  flowers,  and  could  send  a  letter  by 
a  bouquet.  Here  is  part  of  a  Turkish  love- 
letter  sent  by  her  in  a  purse  to  a  friend.  She 
says,  speaking  of  it :  "  There  is  no  color,  no 
flower,  no  weed,  no  fruit,  herb,  pebble,  or 
feather,  that  has  not  a  verse  belonging  to  it ; 
and  you  may  quarrel,  reproach,  or  send  let 
ters  of  passion,  friendship,  or  civility,  or 
even  of  news,  without  even  inking  your 
fingers." 

in  the  letter  the  following  flowers  are  em 
ployed  : 

SOP 


JONQUIL. — Have  pity  on  my  passion. 

ROSE. — May  you  be  pleased,  and  all  youi 
sorrows  be  mine. 

A  STRAW. — Suffer  me  to  be  your  slave. 

The  European  flower-language  was  utiL. 
ized,  and  almost  formed,  by  Aime"  Martin  ; 
and  the  earlier  works  on  the  subject  were 
only  translations  or  adaptations  from  the 
French:  but  English  writers  have  a  good 
deal  altered  and  modified  it  since;  and  as 
new  flowers  come  yearly  to  us  from  other 
lands,  every  fresh  vocabulary  many  contain 
additional  words  or  sentences,  even  as  our 
own  tongue  grows  by  grafts  from  other 
languages. 

The  vocabulary  which  is  given  below  is 
believed  to  be  complete  in  every  respect. 

The  Flower-Language. 

A  very  interesting  correspondence  may  be  main 
tained  by  means  of  bouquets.  We  give  below  several 
examples  of  this.  The  message  is  given  and  then  the 
names  of  the  flowers  needed  in  the  bouquet. 

i. 

May  maternal  1ove  protect  your  early  youth  in  inno 
cence  and joy ! 

Flowers  needed. 

Moss Maternal  love. 

Bearded  Crepis Protect. 

Primroses Early  Youth. 

Daisy •    .Innocence. 

Wood  Sorrel Joy. 

2. 

Your  humility  and  amiability  bave  won  my  lov» 
Flowers  needed. 

Broom Humility. 

White  Jasmine Amiability. 

Myrtle Love 

3-      • 

Let  the  bonds  of  marriage  unite  ub. 
Flowers  needed. 

Blue  Convolvulus Bonds. 

Ivy Marriage. 

A  few  whole  straws Unite  us. 


THE  LANGUAGE  AND  SENTIMENT  OF  FLOWERS. 


501 


A  FAREWEU,. 

Farewell  \  give  me  good  wishes.     Forget  me  not. 
Flowers  needed. 

Sprig  of  Spruce  Fir Farewell. 

Sweet  Basil .....Give   me  your  good 

wishes. 
Forget-Me-Not ...Forget  me  not. 

5- 

Your  patriotism,  courage,  and  fidelity  merit  ever 
lasting  remembrance. 

Flowers  needed. 

Nasturtium « Patriotism. 

Oak  leaves Courage. 

Heliotrope Fidelity. 

Everlasting,  or  Immortelles Everlasting  remem 
brance. 
6. 

A.  Red  Rose 1  love  you- 

7- 

AN  IMPERTINENCE. 
Your  insincerity  and  avarice  make  me  hate  you. 

Flowers  needed 
Cherry  Blossom,  or  Foxglove... /nstncerily. 

Scarlet  Auricula ..Avarice. 

Turk's  Cap Hatred. 

8. 

A  WARNING. 

Beware  of  deceit.     Danger  is  near.     Depart. 
Flowers  needed. 

Oleander Beware. 

White  Flytrap Deceit. 

Rhododendron Danger  is  near. 

Sweet  Pea Depart. 

9- 

A  REBUKE. 

Your  frivolity  and  malevolence  will  cause  you  to  be 
forsaken  by  all. 

Flowers  needed, 

London  Pride Frivolity. 

Lobelia Malevolence. 

Laburnum Forsaken. 

10. 

Be  assured  of  my  sympathy.      May  you  find  conso 
lation  ! 

Flowers  needed. 

Thrift ....Be  assured  of  my  sym 
pathy. 

Red  Poppy...., Consolation. 

ii. 

By  foresight  you  will  surmount  your  difficulties. 
Flowers  needed. 

Holly Foresight. 

Mistletoe , You  will  surmount  your 

difficulties. 


Modifications  of  the  Flower  Language. 

If  a  flower  be  given  reversed^  its  original 
signification  is  understood  to  be  contradicted, 
and  the  opposite  meaning  to  be  implied. 

A  rosebud  divested  of  its  thorns,  but  re 
taining  its  leaves,  convey  the  sentiment,  "  I 
fear  no  longer;  I  hope; "  thorns  signify  fears 
and  leaves  hopes.  < 

Stripped  of  leaves  and  thorns,  the  budf 
signifies,  "There  is  nothing  to  hope  or  fear." 

The  expression  of  flowers  is  also  varied  by 
changing  their  positions.  Place  a  marigold 
on  the  head,  and  itsignifies  "Mental  anguish;" 
on  the  bosom,  "Indifference." 

When  a  flower  is  given,  the  pronoun  /  is 
understood  by  bending  it  to  the  right  hand  ; 
thou,  by  inclining  it  to  the  left. 

"Yes,"  is  implied  by  touching  the  flower 
given  with  the  lips. 

"  No,"  by  pinching  off  a  petal  and  cast 
ing  it  away. 

"I  am,"  is  expressed  by  a  laurel-leaf  twisted 
round  the  bouquet. 

"  I  have,"  by  an  ivy-leaf  folded  together^ 

"  I  offer  you,''  by  a  leaf  of  the  Virginian 
creeper. 

THE  VOCABULARY. 

Abecedary Volubility. 

Abatina Fickleness. 

Acacia Friendship. 

Acacia,  Rose  or  White Elegance. 

Acacia,  Yellow Secret  love. 

Acanthus The  fine  arts.   Artifice,, 

Acalia Temperance. 

Achillea  Millefolia War. 

Achimenes  Cupreata Such  worth  is  rare. 

Aconite  (Wolfsbane) Misanthropy. 

Aconite,  Crowfoot Lustre. 

Adonis,  Flos Sad  memories. 

African  Marigold Vulgar  minds. 

Agnus  Castus Coldness.    Indifference* 

Agrimony Thankfulness.      Grati 
tude. 

Almond  (Common) Stupidity.  Indiscretion, 

Almond  (Flowering) Hope. 

Almond,  Laurel Perfidy. 

Allspice Compassion. 


5O2 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


Aloe , Grief.  Religious  su 
perstition. 

Aithsea  Frutex  (Syrian  Mallow)  Persuasion. 

Alyssum  (Sweet) Worth  bevond  beauty. 

Amaranth  (Globe) Immortality.  Unfad 
ing  love. 

Amaranth  (Cockscomb) Foppery.      Affectation. 

\maryllis Pride.  Timidity.  Spier*- 

did  beauty. 

Ambrosia Love  returned. 

American  Cowslip Divine  beauty. 

American  Elm Patriotism. 

American  Linden Matrimony. 

American  Starwort Welcome  to  a  stranger. 

Cheerfulness  in  old 
age. 

Amethyst Admiration. 

Andromeda Self -sacrifice. 

Anemone  (Zephyr  Flower) Sickness.   Expectation. 

Anemone  (Garden) Forsaken. 

Angelica Inspiration,  or  magic. 

Angrec , Royalty. 

Apricot  (Blossom) Doubt. 

Apple Temptation. 

Apple  (Blossom) ....Preference.  Fame 

speaks  him  great  and 
good. 

Appie,  Thorn Deceitful  charms. 

Apocynum  (Dogsbane) Deceit. 

Arbor  Vitae Unchanging  friend 
ship.  Live  for  me. 

Arum  (Wake  Robin) Ardor.    Zeal. 

Ash-leaved  Trumpet  Flower.... Separation. 

Ash  Mountain Prudence,  or  With  me 

you  are  safe. 

Ash  tree Grandeur. 

Aspen  Tree Lamentation,  or  fear. 

Aster  (China) Variety.  Afterthought. 

Asphodel My  regrets  follow  you 

to  the  grave. 

Auricula Painting. 

Auricula,  Scarlet Avarice. 

Austurtium Splendor. 

Azalea Temperance. 

Bachelor'siButtons ..Celibacy. 

Balm Sympathy. 

Balm,  Gentle Pleasantry. 

Balm  of  Gilead Cure.    Relief. 

Balsam,  Red Touch  me  not.  Impa 
tient  resolves. 

Balsam,  Yellow Impatience. 

Barberry Sharpness  of  temper. 

Basil Hatred. 

Bay  Leaf. I  chat^e  but  in  death. 

Bay  (R^se)  Rhododendron,,  ...Danger.    Beware. 


Bay  Tree „ , Glory. 

Bay  Wreath „ Reward  of  merit, 

Bearded  Crepis Protection. 

Beech  Tree Prosperity. 

Bee  Orchis Industry. 

Bee  Ophrys Error. 

Begonia Deformity. 

Belladonna Silence.     Hush! 

Bell  Flower,  Pyramidal Constancy. 

Bell  Flower  (small  white) Gratitude. 

Belvedere I  declare  against  you    • 

Betony Surprise. 

Bilberry Treachery. 

Bindweed,  Great Insinuation.    7~npor* 

tunity. 

Bindweed,  Small „ Humility. 

Birch Meekness. 

Birdsfoot,  Trefoil Revenge. 

Bittersweet;  Nightshade Truth. 

Black  Poplar.. Courage. 

Blackthorn Difficulty. 

Bladder  Nut  Tree Frivolity.  Amusement. 

Bluebottle  (Centaury). Delicacy. 

Bluebell Constancy.     Sorrowful 

regret. 
Blue-flowered  Greek  Valerian..^#/>/«r£. 

Bonus  Henricus Goodness. 

Borage Bluntness. 

Box  Tree Stoicism. 

Bramble Lowliness.    Envy.    Rt- 

morse. 

Branch  of  Currants You  please  all. 

Branch  of  Thorns Severity.     Rigor. 

Bridal  Rose Happy  love. 

Broom Humility.    Neatness. 

Browallia  Jamisonii Couldyou  bear  poverty* 

Buckbean Calm  repose. 

Bud  of  White  Rose Heart  ignorance  of  love. 

Buglos, Falsehood. 

Bulrush Indiscretion.    Docility. 

Bundle  of   Reeds,   with    their 

Panicles Music. 

Burdock Importunity.     Touch 

me  not. 
Bur Rudeness.     You  weary 

me. 
Buttercup  (Kinkcup) Ingratitude.    Childish' 

ness. 

Butterfly  Orchis... Gayety. 

Butterfly  Weed Let  me  go. 

Cabbage Profit. 

Cacalia Adulation. 

Cactus Warmth. 

Calla  y£thiopica Magnificent  beauty. 


THE  LANGUAGE  AND  SENTIMENT  OF  FLOWERS. 


Cfciceoiaria /  offer  you  pecuniary 

assistance,  or  I  offer 
you  my  fortune. 

Calycanthus Benevolence. 

Camelia  Japonica,  Red Unpretending  excel 
lence. 

Camelia  Japonica,  White Perfected  Loveliness. 

Camomile Energy  in  adversity. 

Campanula  Pyramida Aspiring. 

Canary  Grass Perseverance. 

Candytuft Indifference. 

Canterbury  Bell Acknowledgment. 

Cape  Jasmine 1  am  too  happy. 

Cardamiue Paternal  error. 

Carnation,  Deep  Red Alas!  for  my  poor 

heart. 

Carnation,  Striped Refusal. 

Carnation,  Yellow Disdain. 

Cardinal  Flower Distinction. 

Catchfly Snare. 

Catchfly,  Red Youthful  Love. 

Catchfly,  White Betrayed. 

Cattleya  ...  ^.Mature  charms. 

Cattleya  Pineli Matronly  grace. 

Cedar Strength. 

Cedar  of  Lebanon Incorruptible. 

Cedar  Leaf I  live  for  thee. 

Celandine  (Lesser) Joys  to  come. 

Cereus  (Creeping) Modest  genius. 

Centaury Delicacy. 

Champignon Suspicion. 

Chequered  Fritillary Persecution. 

Cherry  Tree,  White Good  education. 

Cherry  Tree,  White Deception. 

Chestnut  Tree Do  me  justice. 

Chinese  Primrose Lasting  love. 

Chickweed Rendezvous. 

Chicory Frugality. 

China  Aster Variety. 

China  Aster,  Double 1  partake  your  senti 
ments. 

China  Aster,  Single I  will  think  of  it. 

China  or  Indian  Pink Aversion. 

China  Rose Beauty  always  new. 

Chinese  Chrysanthemum Cheerfulness  under  ad 
versity. 

Chorozema  Variuni You  have  many  lovers. 

Christmas  Rose Relieve  my  anxiety. 

Chrysanthemum,  Red I  love. 

Chrysanthemum,  White Truth. 

Chrysanthemum,  Yellow Slighted  love. 

Cineraria Always  delightful. 

Cinquefoil Maternal  affection. 

Cimea Spell. 

Cistus,  or  Rock  Rose Popular  favor . 


Cistus,  Gum I  shall  die  to-morrow. 

Citron Ill-natured  beauty. 

Clarkia The  variety  of  your 

conversation  delights 
me. 

Clematis Mental  beauty. 

Clematis,  Evergreen Poverty. 

Clianthus Worldliness,  Self-seek 
ing. 

Clotbur Rudeness.    Pertinacity. 

Cloves Dignity. 

Clover,  Four-leaved Be  mine. 

Clover,  Red Industry. 

Clover,  White Think  of  me. 

Cobsea Gossip. 

Cockscomb,  Amaranth Foppery.  Affectation. 

Singularity. 

Colchicum,  or  Meadow  Saffron.My  best  days  are  past. 

Coltsfoot Justice  shall  be  done. 

Columbine Folly. 

Columbine,  Purple Resolved  to  win. 

Columbine,  Red Anxious  and  trem~ 

bling. 

Convolvulus o Bonds. 

Convolvulus,  Blue  (Minor) Repose.     Night. 

Convolvulus,  Major Extinguished  hopes. 

Convolvulus,  Pink Worth  sustained  by  ju 
dicious  and  tender 
affection. 

Corchorus Impatient  of  absence. 

Coreopsis Always  cheerful. 

Coreopsis  Arkansa Love  at  first  sight. 

Coriander Hidden  worth. 

Corn Riches. 

Corn,  Broken Quarrel. 

Corn  Straw Agreement. 

Corn  Bottle Delicacy. 

Corn  Cockle Gentility, 

Cornel  Tree Duration. 

Coronella Success  crown  your 

wishes. 

Costnelia  Subra The  charm  of  a  blush. 

Cowslip Pensiveness.  Winning 

grace. 

Cowslip,  American Divine  beauty. 

Crab  (Blossom) Ill-nature. 

Cranberry Cure  for  heartache, 

Creeping  Cereus Horror. 

Cress Stability.     Power. 

Crocus  Abuse  not. 

Crocus,  Spring Youthful  gladness. 

Crocus,  Saffron Mirth. 

Crown ,  Imperial Majesty.     Power. 

Crowsbill Envy. 

Crowfoot Ingratitude. 


504 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


Crowfoot  (Aconite-leaved) Lustre. 

Cuckoo  Plant Ardor. 

Cudweed,  American Unceasing     remem 
brance. 

Currant Thy  frown       7  kill  me. 

Cuscuta Meanness. 

Cyclamen Diffidence. 

Cypress Death.     Mourning. 

Daffodil Regard. 

Dahlia Instability. 

Daisy Innocence. 

Daisy,  Garden I  share  your  sentiments. 

Daisy,  Michaelmas Farewell,      or      after 
thought. 

Daisy,  Party-colored Beauty. 

Daisy,  Wild I  will  think  of  it. 

Damask  Rose Brilliant  complexion. 

Dandelion Rustic  oracle. 

Daphne Glory.     Immortality. 

Daphne  Odora Painting  the  lily. 

Darnel Vice. 

Dead  Leaves Sadness. 

Deadly  Night-shade Falsehood. 

Dew  Plant A  serenail?. 

Dianthus Make  haste. 

Diosma Your  simple  elegance 

charms  me. 

Dipteracanthus  Spectabilis Fortitude. 

Diplademia  Crassinoda You  are  too  bold. 

Dittany  of  Crete Birth. 

Dittany  of  Crete,  White Passion. 

Dock  Patience. 

Dodder  of  Thyme Baseness. 

Dogsbane Deceit.     Falsehood. 

Dogwood Durability. 

Dragon  Plant Snare. 

Dragon  wort Horror. 

Dried  Flax Utility. 

Ebony  Tree Blackness. 

Echites  Atropurpurea Be  warned  in  time. 

Eglantine  (Sweetbriar) Poetry.     I  wound  heal. 

Elder Zealousness. 

Elm Dignity. 

Enchanters'  Night-shade Witchcraft.    Sorcery. 

Endive Frugality. 

Escholzia Do  not  refuse  me. 

E  u  pator  i  um Delay. 

Everflowing  Candytuft Indifference. 

Evergreen  Clematis Poverty. 

Evergreen  Thorn Solace  in  adversity. 

Everlasting Never-ceasing  remem 
brance. 

Everlasting  Pea Lasting  pleasure. 

Fennel Worthy      all     praise. 

Strength. 


Fern Fascination.        Magic* 

Sincerity. 

Ficoides,  Ice  Plant Your  looks  freeze  me- 

Fig c Argument. 

Fig  Marigold lateness. 

Fig  Tree Prolific. 

Filbert  Reconciliation. 

Fir Time. 

Fir  Tree Elevation. 

Flax Domestic  industry. 

Flax-leaved  Goldenlocks Tardiness.  f 

Fleur-de-lis Flame.    I  burn. 

Fleur-de-L,uce Fire. 

Flowering  Fern Reverie. 

Flowering  Reed Confidence  in  Heaven* 

Flower-of-an-Hour Delicate  beauty. 

Fly  Orchis Error. 

Flytrap Deceit, 

Fool's  Parsley Silliness. 

Forget-Me-Not True  love. 

Foxglove Insincerity. 

Foxtail  Grass Sporting. 

Franciscea  Latifolia Beware  of  false  friends* 

French  Honeysuckle Rustic  beauty. 

French  Marigold Jealousy. 

French  Willow Bravery  and  humanity. 

Frog  Ophrys Disgust. 

Fuller's  Teasel Misanthropy 

Fumitory Spleen. 

Fuchsia,  Scarlet Taste. 

Furze,  or  Gorse Love  for  all  seasons. 

Garden  Anemone Forsaken. 

Garden  Chervil Sincerity. 

Garden  Daisy 1  partake  your   senti* 

ments. 

Garden  Mari  gold Uneasiness. 

Garden  Ranunculus You  are  rich  in  altrac* 

tions. 

Garden  Sage Esteem. 

Garland  of  Roses Reward  of  virtue. 

Gardenia Refinement. 

Germander  Speedwell Facility. 

Gera  n  i  uni ,  Dark Mela  ncholy. 

Geranium ,  Horse-shoe-leaf Stupidity. 

Geranium  Ivy Bridal  favor. 

Geranium ,  Lemon Unexpected  meeting. 

Geranium ,  Nutmeg Expected  meeting. 

Geranium,  Oak-leaved True  Friendship 

Geranium,  Pencilled Ingenuity. 

Geranium,  Rose-scented Preference. 

Geranium ,  Scarlet Comforting. 

Geranium ,  Silver-leaved Recall. 

Geranium,  Wild Steadfast  Piety. 

Gillyflower Bonds  of  affection* 

Gladioli... Ready  armed. 


THE  LANGUAGE  AND  SENTIMENT  OF  FLOWERS. 


505 


Glory  Flower Glorious  beauty. 

Goat's  Rue Reason. 

Golden  Rod Precaution. 

Gooseberry Anticipation. 

Gourd Extent.     Bulk. 

Grammanthus  Chloraflora Your  temper  is  too 

hasty. 

Grape,  Wild Charity. 

Grass Submission.     Utility. 

Guelder  Rose Winter.    Age. 

Hand  Flower  Tree Warning. 

Harebell Submission.     Grief. 

Hawkweed Quicksightedness. 

Hawthorn.. Hope. 

Hazel Reconciliation. 

Heartsease,  or  Pansy Thoughts. 

Heath Solitude. 

Helenium Tears. 

Heliotrope Devotion,  or  I  turn 

thee. 

Hellebore Scandal.     Calumny. 

Helmet  Flower  (Monkshood).. Knight-errantry. 

Hemlock You  will  be  my  death. 

Hemp Fate. 

Henbane Imperfection. 

Hepatica Confidence. 

Hibiscus Delicate  Flower. 

Holly Foresight. 

Holly  Herb Enchantment. 

Hollyhock Ambition.     Fecundity. 

Honesty Honesty.     Fascination. 

Honey  Flower Love  sweet  and  secret. 

Honeysuckle Devoted.    Affection. 

Honeysuckle  (Coral) The  color  of  my  fate. 

•Rr    ;ysuckle  (French). Rustic  beauty. 

Hop Injustice. 

Hornbeam Ornament. 

Horse  Chestnut ..Luxury. 

Hortensia You  are  cold. 

Houseleek Vivacity.  Domestic  In 
dustry. 

Houstonia Content. 

Hoya Sculpture. 

Hoyabella Contentment. 

Humble  Plant Despondency. 

Hundred-leaved  Rose Dignity  of  mind. 

Hyacinth Sport.     Game.    Play. 

Hyacinth,  Purple Sorrowful. 

Hyacinth,  White Unobtrusive  lovliness. 

Hydrangea A  boaster. 

Hyssop Cleanliness. 

Iceland  Moss Health. 

Ice  Plant Your  looks  freeze  me. 

Imbricate Uprightness.  Senti 
ments  of  honro. 


Imperial  Montague Power. 

Indian  Cress Warlike  Trophy. 

Indian  Jesmine  (Ipomcea) Attachment. 

Indian  Pink  (Double) Always  Lovely. 

Indian  Plum Privation. 

Iris Message. 

Iris,  German Flame. 

Ivy Friendship.      Fidelity* 

Marriage 
Ivy,  Sprig  of,  with  Tendrils Assiduous  to  please. 

Jacob's  Ladder Come  down. 

Japan  Rose Beauty  is  your  only  at 
traction. 

Jasmine Amiability. 

Jasmine,  Cape Transport  of  joy. 

Jasmine,  Carolina Separation. 

Jasmine,  Indian I  attach  myself  to  you. 

Jasmine ,  Spanish Sensuality. 

Jasmine,  Yellow Grace  and  elegance. 

Jonquil /  desire  a  return  of  af 
fection. 

Judas  Tree Unbelief.     Betrayal. 

Juniper Succor.     Protection. 

Justicia The  perfection  of  female 

loveliness. 

Kennedia Mental  beauty. 

King-cups Desire  of  riches. 

Laburnum Forsaken.      Pe  nsive 

beauty. 
Lady's  Slipper Capricious  beauty .  Win 

me  and  wear  me. 

Lagerstraemia,  Indian Eloquence. 

Lantana Rigor. 

Lapageria  Rosea There  is  no  unalloyed 

good. 

Larch Audacity.     Boldness. 

Larkspur Lightness.     Levity. 

Larkspur,  Pink Fickleness. 

Larkspur,  Purple Haughtiness. 

Laurel Glory. 

Laurel,  Common,  in  flower Perfidy. 

Laurel,  Ground Perseverance. 

Laurel,  Mountain Ambition. 

Laurel-leaved  Magnolia Dign ity. 

Laurestina A  token. 

Lavender Distrust. 

Leaves  (dead) Melancholy. 

Lemon Zest. 

Lemon  Blossoms Fidelity  in  love.  , 

Leschenaultia  Splendens You  are  charming. 

Lettuce Cold-hear  tedness. 

Lichen Dejection.     Solitude. 

Lilac,  Field Humility. 

Lilac,  Purple First  emotions  of  love* 


506 


MANUAL  OF  KK.ACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


Lilac,  White Youthful  innocence. 

Lily,  Day Coquetry. 

Lily.  Imperial ...Majesty. 

Lily,  White Purity.    Sweetness. 

Lily,  Yellow Falsehood.    Gayety. 

Lily  of  the  Valley Return   of   happiness. 

Unconscious   sweet 
ness. 

Linden  or  Lime  Trees Conjugal  love. 

Lint I  feel  my  obligations. 

ive  Oak Liberty. 

^iverwort Confidence. 

Liquorice,  Wild..., I  declare  against  you. 

Lobelia Malevolence. 

Locust  Tree Elegance. 

Locust  Tree  (Green) Affection    beyond  the 

grave. 

London  Pride Frivolity. 

Lote  Tree Concord. 

Lotus , Eloquence. 

Lotus  Flower. Estranged  love. 

Lotus  Leaf. Recantation. 

Love  in  a  Mist Perplexity. 

Love  lies  Bleeding Hopeless,  not  heartless. 

Lucern Life. 

Lupine Voraciousness. 

Madder Calumny 

Magnolia Love  of  nature. 

Magnolia,  Swamp Perseverance. 

Mallow Mildness 

Mallow,  Marsh Beneficence. 

Mallow,  Syrian Consumed  by  love. 

Mallow,  Venetian Delicate  beauty. 

Mallow  Creeana Will  you  share  my  for 
tunes  ? 

Manchineal  Tree Falsehood. 

Mandrake Horror. 

Maple Reserve. 

Marianthus Hope  for  better  days. 

Marigold Grief. 

Marigold ,  African Vuigar  Minds. 

Marigold.  French Jealousy. 

Marigold,  Prophetic Prediction. 

Marigold  and  Cypress Despair. 

Marjoram Blushes. 

Marvel  of  Peru Timidity. 

Meadow  Lychnis Wit. 

Meadow  Saffron My  best  days  are  past. 

Meadowsweet Uselessness. 

Mercury Goodness. 

Mesembryaiithemum Idleness. 

Mezereon Desire  to  please. 

Michaelmas  Daisy Afterthought. 

Mignonette Your  qualities  surpass 

vour  charms. 


Milfoil War. 

Milkvetch Your  presence  softm* 

my  pains. 

Milkwort Hermitage. 

Mimosa  (Sensitive  Plant) Sensitiveness. 

Mint Virtue. 

Mistletoe I  surmount  difficulties. 

Mitraria  Coccinea Indolence.     Dulness. 

Mock  Orange Counterfeit 

Monarda  Amplexicaulis Your  whims  are  quite 

unbearable. 

Monkshood A  deadly  foe  is  near. 

Monkshood  (Helmet  Flower). .Chivalry. 

Moonwort Forgetfulness. 

Morning  Glory Affectation. 

Moschatel Weakness. 

Moss Maternal  love. 

Mosses Ennui 

Mossy  Saxifrage Affection . 

Motherwort Concealed  love. 

Mountain  Ash Prudence. 

Mournin?  Bride Unfortunate   a  ttach- 

ment.    I  have  lost  all. 

Mouse-eared  Chickweed Ingenuous  simplicity. 

Mouse-eared  Scorpion  grass Forget  me  not. 

Moving  Plant Agitation.  ' 

Mudwort Happiness.     Tranquil- 

ity. 

Mulberry  Tree  (Black) I  shall  not  survive  you. 

Mulberry  Tree  (White) Wisdom, . 

Mushroom Suspicion,   or   I  can't 

entirely  trust  you. 

Musk  Plant Weakness. 

Mustard  Seed Indifference. 

Myrobalan Privation. 

Myrrh Gladness. 

Myrtle Love. 

Narcissus Egotism. 

Nasturtium Patriotism 

Nemophila Success  everywhere. 

Nettle,  Common  Stinging You  are  spiteful. 

Nettle,  Burning Slander. 

Nettle  Tree Conceit. 

Night- blooming  Cereus Transient  beauty. 

Night  Convolvulus Night. 

Nightshade Falsehood. 

Oak  Leaves Bravery. 

Oak  Tree Hospitality. 

Oak  (White) Independence. 

Oats The   witching  soul  oj 

music. 

Oleander Beware. 

Olive Peace. 

Orange  Blossoms Your  purity  equals  youl 

loveliness 


THE  LANGUAGE  AND  SENTIMENT  OF  FLOWERS. 


507 


Orange  Flowers Chastity.      Bridal  fes 
tivities. 

Orange  Tree Generosity. 

Orchis A  belle. 

Osier Frankness. 

Osmunda Dreams. 

Ox  eye Patience. 

Palm Victory. 

Pansy Thoughts. 

(Parsley Festivity. 

Pasque  Flower You  have  no  claims. 

Passion  Flower ..Religious  snperstition, 

When  the  flower  is 
reversed,  or  Faith  if 
erect. 

Patience  Dock Patience. 

Pea.  Everlasting An  appointed  meeting. 

Lasting  pleasure. 

Pea,  Sweet Departure. 

Peach Your  qualities,  hke 

your  charms,  are 
unequalled. 

Peach  Blossom I  am  your  captive. 

Pear Affection. 

Pear  Tree Comfort. 

Penstemon  Azureum High-bred. 

Pennyroyal Flee  away. 

Peony  .., Shame.     Bashfulness. 

Peppermint Warmth  of  feeling. 

Periwinkle,  Blue Early  friendship . 

Periwinkle,  White Pleasures  of  memory. 

Persicaria Restoration. 

Persimmon ......  Bury  me  amid  Na 
ture's  beauties. 

Peruvian  Heliotrope Devotion. 

Petunia Your  presence  soothes 

me. 

Pheasant's  Eye Remembrance. 

Phlox Unanimity. 

Pigeon  Berry Indifference. 

Pimpernel Change.     Assignation. 

Pine Pity. 

Pine-apple You  are  perfect. 

Pine,  Pitch  Philosophy. 

Pine,  Spruce....: Hope  in  adversity. 

Pink Boldness. 

Pink,  Carnation Woman's  love. 

Pink,  Indian,  Double Always  lovely. 

Pink,  Indian,  Single Aversion. 

Pink,  Mountain Aspiring. 

Pink,  Red,  Double Pure  and  ardent  love. 

Pink,  Single Pure  love. 

Pink,  Variegated Refusal. 

Pink.  White Ingenious  ness.   Talent. 

Plantain White  man's  footsteps. 


Plane  Tree Genius. 

Plum,  Indian Privation. 

Plum  Tree ...Fidelity. 

Plum,  Wild Independence. 

Plumbago  Larpenta Holy  wishes. 

Polyanthus Pride  of  riches. 

Polyanthus,  Crimson The  heart's  mystery. 

Polyanthus,  Lilac Confidence. 

Pomegranate Foolishness. 

Pomegranate  Flower Mature  elegance. 

Poor  Robin Compensation,  or  its 

equivalent. 

Poplar,  Black Courage. 

Poplar,  White Time. 

Poppy,  Red .Consolation. 

Poppy,  Scarlet Fantastic  extrava 
gance. 

Poppy,  White Sleep.    My  bane. 

Potato Benevolence. 

Potentilla /  claim,  at  least,  your 

esteem. 

Prickly  Pear Satire. 

Pride  of  China Dissension. 

Primrose Early  youth  and  sad 
ness. 

Primrose,  Evening Inconstancy. 

Primrose,  Red Unpatronized  merit. 

Privet Prohibition. 

Purple  Clover Provident. 

Pyrus  Japonica Fairies'  fire. 

Quaking-grass Agitation. 

Quamoclit Busybody. 

Queen's  Rocket You  are  the  queen  of 

coquettes,    fashion. 
Quince Temptation. 

Ragged-robin Wit. 

Ranunculus You  are  radiant  with 

charms. 

Ranunculus,  Garden You  are  rich  in  at 
tractions. 

Ranunculus,  Wild Ingratitude. 

Raspberry Remorse. 

Ray  Grass Vice. 

Red  Catchfly.... Youthful  love. 

Reed Complaisance.     Music. 

Reed,  Split Indiscretion. 

Rhododendron  (Rosebay) Danger.     Beware. 

Rhubarb Advice. 

Rocket.  Rivalry. 

Rose Love. 

Rose,  Austrian Thou  art  all  that  is 

lovely. 

Rose,  Bridal Happy  love. 

Rose,  Burgundy Unconscious  beauty. 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


Rose,  Cabbage Ambassador  of  love. 

Rose,  Campion Only  deserve  my  love. 

Rose,  Carolina Love  is  dangerous. 

Rose,  China Beauty  always  new. 

Rose,  Christmas Tranquillize  my  anx 
iety. 

Rose,  Daily Thy  smile  I  aspire  to. 

Rose,  Damask Brilliant  Complexion. 

Rose,  Deep  Red Bashful  shame. 

Rose,  Dog Pleasure  and  Pain. 

Rose,  Guelder Winter.    Age. 

Rose,  Hundred-leaved Pride. 

Rose,  Japan Beauty  is  your  only  at 
traction. 

Rose,  Maiden  Blush If  you  love  me  you  will 

find  it  out. 

Rose,  Montiflora Grace. 

Rose  Mundi Variety. 

Rose,  Musk Capricious  beauty. 

Rose  Musk,  Cluster Charming. 

Rose,  Single Simplicity. 

Rose,  Thornless Early  attachment. 

Rose,  Unique Call  me  not  beautiful. 

Rose,  White I  am  worthy  of  you. 

Rose,  White  (withered) Transient  impressions. 

Rose,  Yellow Decrease  of  love.  Jeal 
ousy. 

Rose,  York  and  Lancaster War. 

Rose,  Full-blown  placed  over 

two  Buds Secrecy. 

Rose,  White  and  Red  together.  Unity. 

Roses,  Crownof. Reward  of  virtue. 

Rosebud,  Red Pure  and  lovely. 

Rosebud,  White Girlhood. 

Rosebud,  Moss Confession  of  love. 

Rosebud,  (Rhododendron) Beware.    Danger. 

Rosemary Remembrance. 

Rudbackia Justice. 

Rue Disdain. 

Rush Docility. 

Rye  Grass Changeable  disposition. 

Saffron Beware  of  excess. 

Saffron  Crocus Mirth. 

Saffron,  Meadow My  happiest  days  are 

past. 

Sage Domestic  virtue. 

Sage,  Garden Esteem. 

Sainfoin Agitation. 

Saint  John's  Wort Animosity. 

Salvia,  Blue , Wisdom. 

jalvia,  Red Energy. 

Saxifrage,  Mossy Affection. 

Scabious Unfortunate  love. 

Scabious,  Sweet Widowhood. 

Scarlet  Lychnis. ., , Sunbeaming  eyes. 


Schinus Religious  enthusiasm. 

Scotch  Fir. Elevation. 

Sensitive  Plant Sensibility. 

Senvy Indifference. 

Shamrock Light-heartedness. 

Shepherd's  Purse I  offer  you  my  all. 

Siphocampylos Resolved  to  be  noticed. 

Snakesfoot Horror. 

Snapdragon Presumption,  alstl 

"No." 

Snowball Bound. 

Snowdrop Hope. 

Sorrel Affection. 

Sorrel,  Wild Wit  ill-timed. 

Sorrel,   Wood Joy. 

Southernwood Jest.     Bantering. 

Spanish  Jasmine Sensuality. 

Spearmint Warmth  of  sentiment. 

Speedwell Female  fidelity. 

Speedwell,  Germander.. Facility. 

Speedwell,  Spiked Semblance. 

Spider  Ophrys..... Adroitness. 

Spiderwort Esteem,  not  love. 

Spiked  Willow  Herb Pretension. 

Spindle  Tres „ Your  charms  are  en 
graven  on  my  heart. 

Star  of  Bethlehem Purity. 

Starwort Afterthought. 

Starwort,  American Cheerfulness  in  old  age. 

Stephanotis Will  you   accompany 

me  to  the  East? 

Stock Lasting  beauty. 

Stock,  Ten  Week Promptness. 

Stonecrop Tranquillity. 

Straw,  Broken Rupture  of  a  contract. 

Straw,  Whole ,. Union. 

Strawberry  Blossoms ..Foresight. 

Strawberry  Tree Esteem,  not  love. 

Sultan  Lilac I  forgive  you. 

Sultan,  White Sweetness. 

Sultan,  Yellow Contempt. 

Sumach,  Venice... * Splendor. 

Sunflower,  Dwarf , Adoration. 

Sunflower,  Tall Haughtiness. 

Swallow-wort Cure  for  heartache. 

Sweet  Basil Good  wishes. 

Sweetbriar ,  American Simplicity. 

Sweetbriar,  European I  wound  to  heal. 

Sweetbriar,  Yellow Decrease  of  love. 

Sweet  Pea Delicate  pleasures. 

Sweet  Sultan Felicity. 

Sweet  William Gallantry. 

Sycamore Curiosity. 

Syringa Memory. 

Syringa,  Carolina Disappointment. 


THE  LANGUAGE  AND  SENTIMENT  OF  FLOWERS. 


509 


Tamarisk Crime. 

Tansy  (Wild) I  declare  war  against 

you. 

Teasel Misanthropy. 

Tendrils  of  Climbing  Plants....7Y<?.J. 

Thistle,  Common Austerity. 

Thistle,  Fuller's Misanthropy. 

Thistle,  Scotch Retaliation. 

Thorn,  Apple Deceitful  charms. 

Thorn,  Branch  of. Severity. 

Thrift Sympathy. 

Throatwort Neglected  beauty. 

Thyme Activity  or  courage. 

Tiger  Flower For  once  may  pride  be 
friend  me. 

Traveller's  Joy Safety. 

Tree  of  Life Old  age. 

Trefoil Revenge. 

Tremella  Nestoc Resistance. 

Trillium  Pictum Modest  beauty. 

Triptillium  Spinosum Be  prudent. 

Truffle Surprise. 

Trumpet  Flower Fame. 

Tuberose Dangerous  pleasures. 

Tulip,  Red Declaration  of  love. 

Tulip ,  Variegated Beautiful  eyes. 

Tulip,  Yellow Hopeless  love. 

Turnip Charity. 

Tussilage  (Sweet-scented) Justice  shall  be  done 

you. 

Valerian An  accommodating 

disposition. 

Valerian,  Greek Rupture. 

Venice,  Sumach Intellectual  ex£ellence. 

Splendor. 

Venus'  Car Fly  with  me. 

Venus'  Looking-glass Flattery. 

Venus'  Trap Deceit. 

Verbena,  Pink Family  union. 

Verbena,  Scarlet Unite  against  evil,  or 

Church  unity. 

Verbena,  White Pray  for  me. 

Vernal  Grass Poor,  but  happy. 

Veronica Fidelity. 

Veronica  Speciosa Keep  this  for  my  sake. 

Vervain Enchantment. 

Vine Intoxication. 


Violet,  Blue Faithfulness. 

Violet,  Dame Watchfulness. 

Violet,  Sweet Modesty. 

Violet,  Yellow Rural  happiness. 

Virginia  Creeper I  cling  to  you  both  in 

sunshine  and  shade. 

Virgin's  Bower Filial  love. 

Viscaria  Oculata Will  you  dance  with 

me? 

Volkamenia May  you  be  happy! 

Walnut Intellect.    Stratagem. 

Wall-flower Fidelity  in  adversity.     . 

Watcher  by  the  Wayside Never  despair. 

Water  Lily Purity  of  heart. 

Water  Melon Bulkiness. 

Wax  Plant Susceptibility. 

Wheat  Stalk Riches. 

Whin Anger. 

White  Jasmine Amiability. 

White  Lily Purity  and  modesty. 

White  Mullein   Goodnature. 

White  Oak Independence. 

White  Pink Talent. 

White  Poplar Time. 

White  Rose  (dried) Death  preferable  to  loss 

of  innocence. 

Whortleoerry Treason. 

Willow,  Creeping Love  forsaken 

Willow,  Water Freedom. 

Willow,  Weeping Mourning. 

Willow  Herb Pretension. 

Willow,  French Bravery  and  humanity. 

Winter  Cherry Deception. 

Wisteria Welcome,  fair  stranger 

Witch  Hazel A  spell. 

Woodbine Fraternal  love. 

Wood  Sorrel '-Joy-  Maternal  tender 
ness. 

Wormwood Absence. 

Xanthium Rudeness.    Pertinacity 

Xerantemum  Cheerfulness  under  ad 
versity. 

Yew Sorrow. 

Zephyr  Flower Expectation. 

Zinnia Thoughts     of     absent 

friends. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 


OMB  should  be  bright  and  happy ;  it 
should  have  everything  to  make  it 
cheerful  and  pleasant.  Flowers  are 
decorated  with  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow ; 
plants  breathe,  and  their  breath  is  perfume. 
To  cultivate  these  is  not  only  a  pleasant  pas 
time;  they  give  beauty  to  the  house  and 
garden. 

Tlie  Beautiful  Flowers. 

Blooming,  blooming  everywhere, 

In  country  and  in  town  ; 
Blooming  for  the  good  and  wise, 
Looking  out  in  rare  surprise, 
Laughing  with  a  tender  look, 
Nodding  from  some  cosy  nook, 
Dreaming  by  some  idle  brook, 
Every  flower  an  open  book, 
Every  one  a  precious  prize, 
Smiling  through  the  varied  4y»«e— 

Scarlet  and  gold  and  brown- 
God's  sweet  thoughts  of  gracious  o«.re. 

Blooming,  blooming,  everywhere, 
Where  quiet  reigns,  or  strife  ; 

Lifting  faces  fair  as  day, 

Happy  greeting  on  our  way  ; 

Blooming  where  the  children  play, 

Blooming  where  fond  lovers  stray, 

Blooming  in  the  hush  of  night, 

Trailing  robes  of  crystal  light 

O'er  the  garden's  green  aud  gold ; 

Blooming  for  the  young  and  old, 

Blooming  for  the  wasted  hand, 

Blooming  free  in  all  the  land ; 

Fringing  the  world  so  noiselessly, 

Lent  to  us  most  bountifully  ; 
Frail  blossoms  full  of  life, 

God's  sweet  thoughts  of  gracious  care! 

Blooming,  blooming  everywhere, 

In  haunts  of  woe  and  sin ; 
Still  their  mission  they  fulfil, 
Born  to  do  our  Father's  will — 
Little  tokens  from  above, 
Little  fragments  of  his  love, 

510 


Who  can  tell  what  soul  shall  take 
Some  new  courage  for  their  sake, 
Bearing  midst  the  sun  and  showers 
Increase  from  these  fragile  flowers? 
Thus,  the  blossoms'  souls  abide, 
When  the  gates  above  swing  wide, 
And  he  bears  with  him  the  while, 
Mem'ry  of  the  bright  flowers'  smile- 
As  pilgrim  enters  in — 
God's  sweet  thoughts  of  gracious  care. 

MRS.  CHARLOTTE;  E.  FISHER. 

Our  American  woods  are  tangled  -with 
creeping  vines;  our  meadows  are  beautifuJ 
with  blossoms;  rough  country  roads  art 
ornamented  with  flowering  shrubs ;  our  hot 
houses  look  like  tropical  gardens.  Immenst 
sums  of  money  are  invested  in  these  floral 
beauties  whose  glory  lasts,  perhaps,  only  foi 
a  day,  but  they  more  than  pay  for  them 
selves,  and  the  world  would  be  dismal  with 
out  them. 

The  following  are  some  plain  directions 
for  the  care  and  culture  of  the  choicest  of 
these  treasures  of  nature. 

THE  LILY. 

All  the  species  of  this  splendid  genus, 
with  which  we  are  acquainted,  may  be  con 
sidered  worthy  of  a  place  in  every  good  col 
lection  of  plants.  Many  of  the  species  are 
well-known,  while  a  greater  number  are  not 
often  seen  in  our  gardens. 

The  Lily  is  an  interesting  flower  to  the 
young  florist  as  well  as  the  botanist,  on  ac 
count  of  the  simplicity  of  its  structure  and 
magnitude  and  distinct  character  of  its  differ 
ent  parts  and  organs.  The  root  of  the  Lily, 
or  what  is  generally  denominated  the  root, 
is  a  scaly  bulb,  the  scales  being  laid  ovei 


CARE  AND  CULTURE  OF  PLANTS. 


each  other,  inclosing  the  germ,  or  bud.  The 
bulb  is  not  a  root,  strictly  speaking,  but  a 
bud  containing  the  embryo  of  the  future 
plant.  The  roots  are  thrown  out  from  the 
bottom  of  these  bulbs,  or  buds,  and,  unlike 
the  fibres  of  the  Tulip,  are  perennial ;  and  on 
their  strength  depends,  in  a  great  measure, 
the  vigor  of  the  future  plant. 

Bulbs,  long  kept  out  of  ground,  are  very 
much  weakened,  and  a  number  of  years  will 
elapse  before  they  recover  strength  to  bloom 
in  great  perfection.  After  the  flowering  of 
the  Lily,  in  August,  the  foliage  of  many 
species  decays;  the  bulbs  then  are  in  the 
most  perfect  state  for  transplanting.  If  they 
are  permitted  to  remain  long  after  this,  and 
the  foliage  begins  to  start  again,  they  will 
not  bloom  so  strong  the  next  year.  The  Lily 
should  not  be  moved  any  oftener  than  neces 
sary.  It  is  not  like  the  Tulip  and  many 
other  bulbs, which  are  not  injured,  but  rather 
improved,  by  taking  them  up  annually  after 
flowering. 

The  Lily  will  do  well  in  any  well  pre 
pared  border  or  bed.  To  have  them  in  per- 
pection,  the  soil  should  be  excavated  eighteen 
inches  deep,  and  filled  with  a  compost  of 
peat  or  swamp  muck,  undecayed  manure  or 
leaf  mould,  a  foot  deep ;  the  remaining  six 
inches  may  be  peat  and  rich  mould.  The 
bulbs  of  strong  growing  Lilies  may  be 
planted  from  four  to  five  inches  deep ;  and 
weaker  sorts  from  three  to  four  inches.  In 
they  borders,  three  bulbs,  of  the  stronger- 
growing  varieties,  are  enough  for  one  group, 
or  five,  of  the  weeker  sorts.  They  have  a 
pleasing  effect  when  planted  in  masses ;  or 
they  may  be  planted  in  beds.  Most  of  the 
species  are  quite  hardy ;  but  they  will  all  be 
benefitted,  and  bloom  more  strongly,  pro 
vided  they  receive  a  covering  of  rotten 
manure  before  winter  sets  in. 

The  Old  White   Lily. — This   species   has 


always  been  considered  the  emblem  of  white 
ness,  and  is  too  well-known  to  require  any 
description,  A  mass  of  White  Lilies  is 
always  beheld  with  admiration,  and  they 
perfume  the  air  with  their  delicious  fragrance. 
The  White  Lily  is,  therefore,  indispensable, 
and  should  be  found  in  every  garden.  It 
sometimes  attains  the  height  of  three  or  four  * 
feet,  and  is  in  flower  about  the  first  of  July. 

Turk's  Cap  Lily. — There  are  many  varie 
ties  of  this  species;  some  with  pure  white, 
others  with  purple,  spotted,  or  variegated 
flowers.  The  petals  are  very  much  reflexed, 
giving  them  the  appearance  of  caps.  In 
strong  soil,  and  the  roots  well  established, 
the  stems  are  sometimes  thrown  up  from 
three  to  five  feet,  producing  twenty  or  thirty 
flowers,  flowering  in  July. 

The  Gold-striped  Lily. — There  are  twa 
varieties  of  garden  White  Lily  with  striped 
leaves,  one  having  yellow,  the  other  white 
striped  foliage ;  both  pretty  in  a  collection. 

The  Umbel-flowered  Orange  Z,z7y.--This  if 
a  strong-growing  species,  producing'  quite  a 
number  of  large,  upright  orange  flowers, 
with  rough  interior.  In  contrast  with  the 
White  Lily,  it  makes  an  imposing  appear-, 
ance.  It  flowers  about  the  first  of  July. 

Tiger-spotted  Lily. —  A  very  common, 
strong-growing  species;  but  very  showy, 
having  fine,  reflexed,  orange  flowers,  with 
black  spots.  It  has  the  peculiarity  of  pro 
ducing  small  bulbs  in  the  axils  of  the  leaves. 
It  grows  from  four  to  six  feet  high,  flowering 
in  August,  and  is  a  suitable  plant  for  tht 
shrubbery  as  well  as  the  border.  It  is  ver) 
easily  propagated,  as  all  the  axil  bulbs,  whe* 
planted  in  the  ground,  soon  produce  flower 
ing  plants. 

Lily  of  the  Valley. — An  elegant  and  deli 
cate,  sweet-scented  plant,  which  for  ages  has 
been  a  favorite  flower,  and  highly  prized. 
It  succeeds  well  in  the  shade  in  any  soil,  and 


512 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


soon  spreads  itself,  by  its  slender,  creeping 
roots,  beyond  the  desire  of  the  cultivator. 
It  flowers  in  May  and  June. 

The  Japan  Lily.  — This  magnificent  species 
of  Lily,  and  its  varieties  were  formerly 
treated  as  green-house  plants.  They  are 
"found  to  be  as  hardy  as  our  common  Lilies, 
and  will,  therefore,  prove  a  great  acquisition 
to  the  garden.  These  Lilies  emit  an  ex 
quisite  odor. 

Few  plants  are  more  handsome  or  attract 
ive  than  the  Japan  Lilies.  They  produce  a 
gorgeous  display,  either  in-doors  or  out ;  and 
as  they  are  quite  hardy,  they  may  be  liberally 
planted  in  the  open  border,  and  thus  consti 
tute  one  of  our  best  autumnal  flower-garden 
plants. 

Their  propagation  is  simple  and  certain. 
The  bulbs  may  be  separated,  and  each  scale 
will  eventually  form  a  new  bulb.  This 
separation  should  be  effected  when  the  flower 
stems  are  withered.  The  scales  should  be 
stuck  into  pans  of  silver  sand,  and  placed  in 
a  cold  frame  or  pit.  After  remaining  one 
season  in  this  position,  they  should  be  planted 
in  a  prepared  bed  of  peat  moss,  and  a  little 
silver  sand  intermixed  with  it ;  thus  treated, 
the  bulbs  will  soon  grow  large  enough  to 
flower. 

VERBENAS. 

This  plant  is  a  native  of  Buenos  Ayres, 
growing  through  a  very  extensive  tract  of 
country.  The  dazzling,  brilliant,  scarlet 
flowers  cannot  be  exceeded  by  any  other 
plant  yet  introduced  into  this  country ;  and 
I  blooming  from  May  to  November,  in  the 
open  air,  with  us,  makes  it  one  of  the  most 
desirable  plants  in  cultivation. 

Innumerable  splendid  varieties  have  been 
raised,  of  every  color  and  tint,  excepting 
yellow  and  blue.  Some  varieties  are  of  a 
bluish-purple,  ruby-purple,  lilac  and  dark- 
purple,  rose,  scarlet,  crimson,  white,  white 


with  red  eye,  scarlet  wi  Ji  purple  eye,  rosy 
with  red  eye,  shaded,  striped,  etc.,  in  fact, 
every  shade  of  the  colors  named.  The  habits 
of  all  are  similar,  naturally  prostrate  and 
creeping  plants,  taking  root  freely  wherever 
the  stems  come  in  contact  with  the  ground, 
and  sending  forth  innumerable  clusters  of 
their  many-hued,  brilliant  flowers  from  May 
to  November. 

It  is  kept  with  difficulty  through  the 
winter,  except  in  rooms  or  in  the  green 
house.  In  the  cellar  the  roots  soon  perish ; 
nor  are  any  of  them  quite  hardy  enough  to 
stand  the  winter. 

They  are  all  so  easily  raised  from  cuttings 
that  they  can  be  obtained  at  any  green -house, 
for  about  two  dollars  a  dozen  for  small  plants, 
which,  when  turned  into  the  ground  in 
June,  soon  make  large  plants,  and  by  Octo 
ber  will  be  three  feet  across.  They  continue 
to  flower  after  severe  frosts,  and  are  among 
the  last  lingering  flowers  of  autumn. 

They  flower  from  seed  sown  in  the  open 
ground,  in  May,  the  same  season,  commenc 
ing  their  bloom  in  August.  Seedling  plants 
produce  seed  in  abundance,  but  those  that 
have  been  a  long  time  propagated  from  cut 
tings  lose  that  power  in  a  great  measure. 
There  is  no  end  to  the  variety  from  seedling 
plants.  To  have  them  come  early  in  flower, 
the  seed  may  be  brought  forward  in  the 
frame.  No  plant  equals  the  Verbena  for 
masses,  particularly  when  grown  in  beds  cut 
out  on  lawns,  as  the  brilliancy  of  the  flowers 
contrasts  finely  with  the  green  grass. 
PETUNIAS. 

Few  things  in  the  garden  will  make  more 
show  throughout  the  entire  season,  even  after 
quite  severe  frosts,  than  a  bed  of  Petunias 
from  a  paper  of  seed  marked  "Choicest 
Mixed  from  Show  Flowers."  They  will  pro 
duce  a  profusion  of  flowers,  charming  one 
fiom  day  to  day  with  their  variations  of 


CARE  AND  CULTURE  OF  PLANTS. 


markings,  and  of  color.  Some  retain  their 
distinctive  characteristics,  while  with  others 
they  are  changeful  as  the  kaleidoscope. 
Stripes,  blotches,  sprays,  white  throats,  green 
edges,  they  are  lovely.  Then  there  are  the 
double  sorts  ;  purple  with  white  spots,  white 
with  purple;  rose  color,  white,  purplish-crim- 
-  son  margined  with  white ;  lilac  veined  with 
purple;  white  with  stripes  of  purple  in  the 
center  of  each  petal,  some  exquisitely  fringed; 
large  and  full  as  a  rose,  and  some  almost  as 
sweet. 

Tne  Petunia  is  divided  into  three  distinct 
classes,  the  Grand iflora,  Small  Flowered  and 
Double. 

The  Grandiflora  varieties  have  a  strong 
succulent  growth,  the  flowers  are  not  so 
numerous  as  some  others,  but  are  very  large 
and  double,  frequently  measuring  three  inches 
in  diameter,  and  some  kinds  are  exquisitely 
marked  with  various  shades  of  violet,  purple, 
maroon  and  scarlet  upon  white  ground  ; 
some  striped,  others  bordered,  some  marbled, 
some  deeply  fringed.  The  double  Petunia 
gives  no  seed,  and  it  is  only  by  fertilizing 
single  flowers  with  the  pollen  of  the  double 
that  seed  can  be  obtained.  But  Petunias  of 
all  kinds  are  easily  multiplied  by  cuttings. 

The  small  Flowered  class  are  those  that 
make  our  gardens  so  attractive  with  their 
varied  hues  and  markings.  Some  of  the 
new  hybrids  are  of  wonderful  beauty. 

A  new  double- fringed  Petunia  is  named 
after  President  Garfield.  It  is  thus  described: 
Color,  light  purple  veined  with  deep  purple 
magenta,  edged  with  a  broad  band  of  an 
exquisite  shade  of  green.  Very  novel  in  its 
appearance  and  a  new  color  in  double  Petu 
nias  ;  flower  very  large  and  deep  fringed.  | 
Plants  strong  and  vigorous ;  one  of  the  finest 
sorts  ever  offered,  and  worthy  of  a  place  in 
every  garden.  It  is  a  floral  beauty  of  the 
highest  order. 
33 


VIOLETS. 

"  Violets,  sweet  tenants  of  the  shade, 
In  purple's  richest  pride  arrayed, 

Your  errand  here  fulfill  ; 
Go  bid  the  artist's  simple  stain 
Your  lustre  imitate  in  vain, 

And  match  your  Makers  skill." 

This  is  an  extensive  genus  of  plants,  of 
dwarf  habits,  suitable  for  border  or  rock- 
work.  There  are  many  indigenous  species 
which  flourish  well  in  the  gaiden,  and  will 
repay  the  '.rouble  of  collecting  them  from 
the  woods  meadows,  and  pastures. 

The  Sweet-scented  Vwlei  should  not  be 
wanting  m  any  collection  of  plants,  on  ac 
count  of  its  fragrance  and  early  appearance. 
A  single  flower  will  perfume  a  large  room. 
The  flowers  appear  in  April,  and  continue 
through  May.  There  are  the  single  white 
and  single  blue,  and  the  double  blue  and 
white  varieties ;  the  double  sorts  are  the  most 
desirable ,  they  succeed  best  in  a  shady,  shel 
tered  place,  and  are  rapidly  multiplied  by 
divisions  of  the  plant. 

PANSIES. 

"  Open  your  eyes,  my  Pansies  sweet, 

Open  your  eyes  for  me. 
Where  did  you  get  that  purple  hue  ? 
Did  a  cloudlet  smile  as  you  came  through  t 
Did  a  little  sunbeam  bold 
Kiss  on  your  lips  that  tint  of  gold  f 

Tell  me  the  mystery. " 

The  Heart's  Ease,  or  Pansy,  is  a  general 
favorite — an  old  acquaintance  with  every  one 
who  has  had  anything  to  do  with  a  flower- 
garden.  It  begins  to  open  its  modest  but 
lively  flowers  as  soon  as  the  snow  clears  off 
in  the  spring,  and  continues  to  enliven  the 
garden  till  the  snow  comes  again.  The  flow 
ers  are  in  the  greatest  perfection  in  May  and 
June.  The  burning  sun  of  summer  is  un 
favorable  for  their  greatest  beauty ;  but  in 
autumn  they  are  fine  again.  The  Pansy  is 
properly  a  biennial,  but  can  be  perpetuated 
by  cuttings  or  divisions  of  the  root. 


5»4 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


To  produce  a  bed  of  choice  Pansies,  select 
a  north  aspect,  with  a  cool  bottom.  Soil  of 
medium  texture,  and  moderately  enriched, 
should  be  preferred  for  the  production  of 
large  flowers.  Keep  the  soil  frequently  stirred 
around  them,  and  be  careful  that  the  border 
is  free  from  wire  worm.  If  the  plants  are 
put  out  in  September,  they  will  be  estab 
lished  before  winter;  and  I  have  frequently 
found  that  plants  so  treated,  get  through  the 
winter  quite  as  well  as  those  coddled  in 
frames.  As  their  propagation  is  easy,  depend 
exclusively  upon  young  plants  for  the  fol 
lowing  season's  bloom.  Seeds  should  only  be 
saved  from  beds  of  selected  flowers  possessing 
the  best  qualities ;  for  it  is  only  by  following 
this  up,  that  improved  kinds  to  any  extent 
may  be  obtained ;  and,  as  seed  is  readily  pro 
duced,  it  is  not  worth  while  saving  that  from 
doubtful  or  indifferent  sorts. 

THE  ASTER. 

This  large  genus  of  plants  embraces  more 
than  ninety  species,  all  inhabitants  of  the 
United  States;  some  of  them  very  hand 
some;  giving  life  and  beauty  to  our  fields 
and  woods,  during  the  autumnal  months,  by 
the  profusion  of  the  various  shades  of  their 
blue,  purple,  or  white  flowers.  Most  of  the 
family  are  perennials,  easily  transplanted 
when  in  flower,  provided  they  are  cut  down 
to  the  ground,  and  may  be  planted  among 
the  shrubbery  or  borders,  and  will  add  grace 
and  beauty  to  the  garden. 

A  number  of  perennial  species  are  in  cul 
tivation  as  garden  flowers,  of  which  the  New 
England  Aster  and  the  Michaelmas  Daisy, 
both  natives  of  North  America,  are  perhaps 
the  most  common,  and,  with  some  of  the 
other  species,  are  prized  as  among  the  com 
paratively  few  flowers  to  be  seen  at  that  dull 
season  when  the  autumn  is  giving  place  to 
winter.  But  the  best  known  and  most  val 


ued  of  all  the  Asters  is  the  China  Aster,  a 
summer  annual,  of  which  many  varieties  are 
in  cultivation.  It  was  brought  from  China 
to  France  by  a  missionary  in  the  i8th  cen 
tury,  but  has  been  much  improved  and  varied 
by  culture.  The  plant  delights  in  a  rich  free 
soil.  It  blossoms  from  July  to  the  end  of 
autumn  and  adds  much  to  the  liveliness  o£ 
the  flower-garden. 

THE  CHRYSANTHEMUM. 

Long  before  this  genus  of  plants  was 
known  in  Europe  or  America  the  gardeners 
of  China  and  Japan  were  enthusiastic  culti 
vators  of  it,  and  it  gives  its  name  in  the  latter 
country  to  the  highest  order  of  honor,  "  The 
Order  of  the  Golden  Flower."  The  colors 
are  exceedingly  various  and  beautiful,  and 
the  form  of  the  flowering  head  in  some 
varieties  is  marked  by  the  most  perfect  sym 
metry,  while  in  others  it  assumes  a  medusa- 
like  character. 

The  Paris  Daisy  or  Marguerites  have  re 
cently  become  popular  as  greenhouse  or 
bedding  plants.  The  circumstance  that  it 
may  be  had  in  flower  during  the  late  autumn 
months  and  far  into  the  winter,  coupled  with 
its  profuse  flowering  and  simple  requirements 
for  its  culture,  renders  the  Chrysanthemum 
a  universal  favorite.  There  are  numerous, 
varieties,  sufficient  to  form  an  attractive 
exhibit;  in  many  places  the  "Chrysanthe 
mum  Show"  attracts  great  numbers  of  spec 
tators. 

Cuttings  are  struck  in  November,  Decem 
ber  and  January.  They  require  no  heat,  but 
merely  protection  from  frost,  and  till  they 
take  root  they  must  be  kept  in  a  close  case 
away  from  draughts.  The  soil  they  require  ' 
is  a  rich  loam,  with  decomposed  manure, 
a  third  of  the  latter  to  two-thirds  of  the 
former.  They  should  be  placed  out  of  doors 
from  May  till  the  time  of  killing  autumnal 


CARE  AND  CULTURE  OF  PLANTS. 


515 


frost,  when  they  ought  to  be  housed  to  pro 
tect  them  from  freezing. 

MIGNONETTE. 

This  fragrant  hardy  annual  is  too  well 
known  to  need  any  description.  A  bed  of  it 
should  be  found  in  every  garden.  It  con 
tinues  to  bloom  and  send  forth  its  sweetness 
all  the  season,  perfuming  the  whole  region 
about  the  premises.  Self-sown  plants  begin 
to  produce  flowers  in  June.  The  plants  are 
in  great  demand  in  and  about  cities,  being 
sold  in  pots  and  in  bouquets.  It  is  a  native 
of  North  Africa.  The  name  is  French  and 
signifies  "  Little  Darling." 

SWEET  PEA. 

"  Peas  of  all  kinds  diffuse  their  odorous  powers 
Where  Nature  pencils  butterflies  on  flowers." 

Lathyrus  odoratus  is  one  of  the  most 
beautiful,  and  also  one  of  the  most  fragrant, 
of  the  species,  and  is  deservedly  one  of  the 
most  popular  annuals  which  enrich  the 
flower-garden.  The  varieties  are,  white, 
rose,  scarlet,  purple,  black,  and  variegated. 
Each  variety  should  be  sown  by  itself,  in 
circles  about  a  foot  in  diameter,  three  or  four 
feet  from  any  other  plant.  When  the  young 
plants  require  support,  a  light,  neat  stake,  or 
rod,  should  be  stuck  into  the  centre  of  the 
circle,  to  which  they  should  be  slightly 
fastened  as  they  advance  in  height.  Some 
are  in  the  habit  of  supporting  them  with 
brush,  which  looks  very  unsightly  before  it 
is  covered  with  the  vines. 

The  Sweet  Pea  will  grow  five  or  six  feet 
high,  in  rich  ground,  and  continue  in  bloom 
from  July  to  October.  The  seed  should  be 
sown  as  soon  as  the  ground  is  in  order  in  the 

spring. 

AMARYLLIS. 

Amaryllis  formosissima,  or  Jacobean  Lily, 
is  a  flower  of  great  beauty.  It  is  a  tender 
bulb,  but  succeeds  well  when  planted  in  May, 


in  the  open  border,  in  a  rich,  sandy  soil. 
The  top  of  the  bulb  should  hardly  be  covered 
with  earth.  The  flowers  are  large  and  of  a 
very  deep  red.  The  under  petals  hang  down, 
the  upper  curl  up,  and  the  whole  flower 
stands  nodding  on  one  side  of  the  stalk# 
making  a  fine  appearance.  The  bulb  rarely 
produces  more  than  two  flowers,  and  more 
frequently  but  one,  about  one  foot  high, 
flowering  in  June  or  July.  Upon  the  ap 
proach  or  freezing  weather,  the  bulbs  must 
be  taken  up,  dried,  and  put  away  in  dry  saw 
dust,  where  they  will  be  secure  from  frost, 

Aulica  Stenoplalon  is  a  magnificent  specie^ 
having  large  orange  crimson  flowers,  beauti 
fully  veined  with  scarlet.  This  grand  novelty 
was  discovered  in  1877  in  one  of  the  West 
India  Islands.  The  flowers  are  perfectly 
double,  and  the  color  is  rich,  fiery  orange  red. 

THE  WAX  PLANT. 

This  plant  is  a  native  of  tropical  Asia, 
where  it  is  partially  parasitical,  its  roots 
penetrating  the  bark  of  the  trees  which  sup 
port  i4-.  It  was  introduced  into  England  in 
1802.  There  are  several  species,  but  only 
one  is  generally  cultivated.  Hoya  Carnosa 
has  thick  waxy  leaves,  and  bears  umbels  of 
beautiful  flesh-colored  flowers  which  are  very 
wax-like  in  appearance.  It  is  an  excellent 
plant  for  house  cultu'  s  as  it  stanrs  the  ex 
tremes  of  heat  and  cjld  better  t-ian  most 
plants,  and  is  not  eas.i/  injured  Ly  neglect. 
It  can  be  trained,  to  cli^ib  on  trellis  work  to- 
almost  any  height,  and  when  in  bloom,, 
which  continues  for  half  the  year,  it  is  a 
very  interesting  plant. 

There  are  several  varieties  of  Hoya,  but 
one  only  is  generally  cultivated.  Silver 
Variegated  Foliage  is  very  handsome,  but  is 
of  slow  growth  and  difficult  to  propagate. 
Imperialis  is  a  new  variety  with  beautiful 
foliage  and  scarlet  flowers.  Cunningham  has 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


fight  green   leaves,    deeper   colored   flowers 
than  the  Carnosa  and  is  a  rapid  grower. 

They  succeed  best  in  peat,  with  some 
fibrous  soil  and  sand.  They  must  have  per 
fect  drainage,  and  require  a  period  of  rest. 
Hoya  Carnosa  is  easily  propagated  from  cut 
tings.  A  very  good  method  is  to  wrap  a  cut 
ting  in  moss,  keeping  it  moist  until  the  roots 
» tre  well  started. 

GERANIUMS. 

A  lady  who  has  been  very  successful  witn 
her  flower-garden,  and  has  a  rare  collection 
of  Geraniums,  writes  as  follows :  "As  Gera 
niums  are  not  at  all  fastidious  about  soil,  I 
take  whatever  is  available,  mix  a  small  quan 
tity  of  sand  with  it  to  make  it  Liable,  enrich 
ing  with  old  manure.  I  nearly  nil  the  pot, 
and  then  make  a  hole  in  the  center,  set  in 
the  plant,  press  the  earth  firmly  around  it, 
fill  to  the  top  and  press  down  again,  water, 
and  set  the  pot  in  a  cool  and  shady  place  for 
several  days,  then  bring  to  the  light  for 
a  few  hours,  gradually  accustoming  them  to 
the  sunshine,  until  they  become  fully  estab 
lished  in  their  new  quarters.  When  the 
weather  is  sufficiently  warm,  I  plunge  the 
pots  in  the  border  for  the  summer,  covering 
the  pots  entirely.  I  choose  a  cloudy  day  if 
possible ;  if  otherwise,  I  do  the  work  late  in 
the  afternoon,  so  that  the  intense  sunshine 
may  not  at  first  beat  upon  them.  I  prefer 
massing  these  new  plants  by  themselves,  as 
the  effect  is  more  pleasing  than  when  inter 
mixed  with  other  kinds, 

"The  Geranium  bed  is  the  most  attractive 
one  of  my  garden.  It  is  always  full  of 
bloom,  and  the  varied  hues  commingled  are 
very  attractive.  I  remove  all  decayed  leaves 
and  the  trusses  as  soon  as  the  flowers  have 
faded.  Frequently  there  will  be  a  few  de 
cayed  pips  marring  the  beauty  of  a  fine  truss, 
amid  these  I  carefully  remove.  All  of  my  large 


stock  Geraniums  which  have  been  wintered 
two  years,  I  set  by  themselves,  and  they  fur 
nish  an  abundance  of  flowers  for  bouquets, 
and  cuttings  for  new  plants.  Where  one  has 
a  plenty  of  garden  room,  they  need  not  mind 
having  several  choice  Geraniums  of  a  kind 

"  Slips  will  root  well  during  the  summer 
months,  if  set  in  the  earth  near  the  parent 
stock,  where  they  are  shaded  from  the  direct 
rays  of  the  sun.  Care  must  be  had  to  set 
the  cuttings  well  down  in  the  soil,  and  firm 
the  earth  compactly  around  them.  In  this 
way  one  can  obtain  with  little  care  nice 
plants  for  the  winter  window  garden,  which 
will  be  more  shapely  than  those  which  have 
become  very  branchy.  Geraniums  are  ill- 
growing  plants  unless  pruned  and  trained 
with  skill.  But  they  are  so  easily  cultured, 
adapting  themselves  to  most  any  situation 
whether  of  shade  or  sunshine,  are  so  hardy, 
and  bloom  so  freely,  that  we  can  but  admire 
them  though  they  yield  no  fragrant  flowers. 

"There  are  many  varieties  of  scented- 
leaved  Geraniums,  and  these  mixed  with  the 
odorless  blossoms  are  almost  an  equivalent 
Then  the  beautiful  "Golden  Bronzed  Zoned" 
Geraniums,  and  the  "  Silver  Margined"  and 
"  Tricolored,"  are  so  beautiful  in  foliage, 
while  Happy  Thought,  with  its  creamy  yel 
low  )eaf  margined  with  green ;  Distinction, 
with  deep  green  leaves  zoned  with  black ;  Afrs. 
Pollock  with  bronze  red  zone  belted  with 
bright  crimson  margined  with  golden  yellow, 
are  exceedingly  ornamental.  Beside  these 
there  are  many  perhaps  equally  attractive,  not 
often  named  in  the  general  collection.  Freak 
of  Nature,  first  sent  out  last  year,  is  an  im 
provement  on  Happy  Thought  the  center  of 
pure  white  narrowly  margined  with  light 
green ;  flowers  light  scarlet ;  habit  very 
dwarf  and  spreading.  It  originated  with  Mr. 
Gray  of  England,  and  was  awarded  three 
first-class  certificates. 


CARE  AND  CULTURE  OF  PLANTS. 


"Of  the  numerous  classes  into  which 
Geraniums  are  divided,  few  only  are  given 
usually  by  florists.  There  are  the  Orna 
mental  Foliage  of  which  we  have  cited  a  few 
examples,  and  the  Golden  Tricolors,  Silver 
Tricolors,  Golden  Bronze,  Nosegay  and 
Lilliputian  Zonale ;  double  and  single  Gera 
niums. 

"New  Life  originated  with  Mr.  H.  Can- 
nell,  o'  Swanley,  England,  in  our  Centennial 
year,  and  he  sent  out  the  first  thousand  by 
subscripton  only,  at  $5  each — not  one  sold 
till  the  thousand  were  engaged !  Now  you 
can  purchase  it  at  prices  ranging  from  ten 
cents  to  thirty.  It  is  unique  in  color,  being 
splashed,  striped,  and  flecked  with  salmon 
and  white  on  an  intense  scarlet  ground.  It 
s  sometimes  freakish,  having  pips  with  some 
petals  salmon,  others  partly  white  and  partly 
scarlet,  others  pure  scarlet.  But  this  very 
freak  is  charming,  for  with  beautifully 
striped  trusses  there  will  be  others  thus  spor 
tive.  Its  habit  is  dwarf,  compact,  and  its 
dark  leaves  zoned  with  black  are  very  hand 
some.  It  cannot  be  surpassed  as  a  free 
bloomer. 

"Of  the  Sweet-scented  Geraniums,  we 
have  none  equal  to  the  hybrid,  Mrs.  Taylor, 
for  beauty  of  foliage  and  of  flower.  It  is  a 
fine  grower,  and  for  green  to  mix  with  flow 
ers  it  is  admirable.  Dr.  Livingstone,  a  more 
recent  novelty,  is  very  handsome  and  frag 
rant.  Rose  and  Lemon  scented  are  deli 
cious.  Lady  Plymouth  is  a  variegated  rose ; 
leaves  bronzy  green,  fringed  with  creamy 
white,  sometimes  assuming  a  pink  tinge; 
very  ornamental.  London  Blue  is  a  very  rare 
variety  of  scented  Geranium,  of  heavy  creep 
ing  growth,  with  large  crimped  or  curled 
leaves  covered  thickly  with  fine  spines  or 
hairs,  and  seldom  blooms." 

This  practical  information  will  prove  val 
uable  to  all  flower-gardeners. 


THE  SNOW-DROP. 

The  Snow-drop  is  the  earliest  flower  of  all 
the  garden  tribe,  and  will  even  show  her 
head  above  the  snow,  as  if  to  prove  her  ri 
valry  with  whiteness.  Every  third  year  the 
roots  should  be  taken  up,  in  June  or  July, 
when  the  leaves  are  decayed,  and  kept  in  a 
dry  place  till  August,  when  they  should  be 
replanted.  The  bulbs  are  very  small.  To 
make  them  look  well  and  to  produce  a  pretty 
effect  when  in  bloom,  about  twenty  should 
be  planted  together  in  a  clump,  one  and  one- 
half  or  two  inches  deep.  There  is  a  variety 
with  double  flowers;  both  sorts  desirable; 
about  six  inches  high  in  March  and  April. 

"  The  Snow-drop,  who,  in  habit  white  and  plain. 
Comes  on,  the  herald  of  fair  Flora's  train." 

There  is  a  flower  called  the  Leucojum,  oa 
Great  Snow-drop,  very  similar  to  this,  bjat 
twice  the  size.  Of  this  there  are  three 
kinds:  the  Spring,  the  Summer,  and  the 
Autumnal  Snow-drop.  The  bulbs  are  much 
larger;  should  be  planted  five  inches  from 
each  other,  four  inches  deep.  "We  look 
upon  the  Snow-drop  as  a  friend  in  adversity, 
sure  to  appear  when  most  needed." 

"  Lone  flower,  hemmed  in  with  snows,  and  white  as 
thev." 

THE  GLADIOLUS. 

Gladiolu^  communis  is  a  hardy,  showy  bor 
der-flower,  of  which  there  are  several  varieties 
in  cultivation,  viz.,  white,  purple,  and  red. 
They  should  be  planted  in  October,  on  a  rich 
sandy  soil,  about  two  and  a  half  inches  deep, 
and  require  little  protection,  except  the  purple 
variety.  They  have  a  flag-like  foliage,  and 
produce  their  flowers  on  long,  one-sided 
spikes,  or  racemes,  about  two  feet  high,  in 
June  and  July. 

Gladiolus  byzanteum  is  also  hardy,  and  re 
quires  the  same  treatment ;  flowers  purplish- 
red.  The  Gladiolus  family  includes  many  bril- 


5i8 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


liant  species  and  varieties;  most  of  them 
green-house  plants.  Many  of  them,  however, 
succeed  well  in  the  open  ground,  when  planted 
in  the  border  in  May ;  but  it  is  necessary  to 
take  them  up  in  October,  and  keep  the  roots 
dry,  and  from  the  frost,  till  the  time  of  plant 
ing  again.  All  the  species  delight  in  a  rich, 
light,  sandy  loam,  and  should  not  be  planted 
more  than  one  and  a  half  inches  under  the 
surface. 

Among  the  choice  varieties  are  Calypso, 
Cleopatra,  Eldorado,  James  Carter  and  Lord 
Byron. 

Gandavensis  produces  long  spikes  of  the 
most  vivid  scarlet  flowers.  It  has  flowering 
stems  four  and  five  feet  high,  which  throw 
out  a  succession  of  spikes  of  its  rich  and 
brilliant  blossoms. 

Floribunda  is  another  beautiful  species,  r  Ah 
a  profusion  of  delicate  pink  flowers,  marked 
with  purple,  about  two  or  three  feet  high,  in 
August.  The  treatment  of  all  the  tender 
varieties  is  similar;  if  they  are  planted  in 
pots,  forwarded  in  a  hot  bed,  and  turned  into 
the  open  ground  in  June,  they  flower  some 
what  earlier,  and  grow  stronger. 

THE   HYACINTH. 

The  Hyacinth  is  a  highly  esteemed  florist's 
flower,  of  easy  culture,  of  which  more  than 
.one  thousand  varieties  are  cultivated  in  Hol 
land,  forming  quite  an  important  item  in  the 
exports  of  that  country,  and  whence,  Great 
Britain,  the  United  States,  and  all  Europe, 
receive  their  annual  supplies,  and,  in  fact, 
.all  parts  of  the  world.  Hyacinths  are  dou 
ble  and  single  ;  of  various  colors,  embracing 
every  shade  of  red,  from  a  deep  crimson  pink 
/down  to  white;  of  blue,  from  white  to  almost 
Tblack,  and  some  few  yellow  and  salmon  color; 
but  theshades  of  yellow  are  not  very  brilliant, 
and  appear  yellow  only  in  contrast  with  the 
*vhite. 


Some  of  the  white,  and  other  light  varie* 
ties,  have  red,  blue,  purple  or  yellow  eyes, 
which  add  much  to  the  beauty  of  the  flower; 
and  others  are  more  or  less  striped  or  shaded; 
and  some  are  tipped  with  green.  The  double 
varieties  are  generally  considered  the  finest, 
but  many  of  the  single  sorts  are  equally 
desirable,  as  what  is  deficient  in  size  of  the 
bell  is  made  in  the  greater  number  of  them; 
some  of  the  single  sorts  are  the  richest  in 
color. 

Strong  bright  colors  are,  in  general,  pre 
ferred  to  such  as  are  pale ;  there  are,  however, 
many  rose-colored,  pure  white  and  light  blue 
Hyacinths,  in  high  estimation.  Hyacinths 
begin  to  flower  the  last  of  April  in  this 
climate,  and  if  shaded  by  an  awning  from 
hot  suns,  may  be  kept  in  perfection  the  greater 
part  of  a  month.  They  never  require  water 
ing  at  any  season;  keep  them  free  from  weeds; 
as  the  stems  advance  in  height,  they  should 
be  supported  by  having  small  sticks,  or  wires, 
painted  green,  stuck  into  the  ground  back 
of  the  bulb,  to  which  they  should  be  neatly 
tied ;  otherwise,  they  are  liable  to  fall  down 
by  the  weight  of  the  bells,  and,  as  the  stem 
is  very  brittle,  it  is  sometimes  broken  off 
when  exposed  to  storms. 

The  most  suitable  time  to  plant  Hyacinths 
is  in  October  or  November.  The  finer  sorts 
will  appear  to  the  best  advantage  in  beds, 
while  the  more  common  varieties  may  be 
distributed  about  the  borders  where  most 
convenient.  The  dimensions  of  the  bed 
should  be  marked  out,  and  the  soil  taken 
entirely  away  to  the  depth  of  two  feet ;  the 
earth  on  the  bottom  should  then  be  dug  and 
well  pulverized,  and  the  space  above  filled 
with  the  best  garden  mould,  free  from  vermu 
of  every  description,  and  largely  composed 
of  rich  decayed  manure. 

In   California  there  grows  what  is  called 
the  Twining    Hyacinth.       It  grows    in    the 


CARE  AND  CULTURE  OF  PLANTS. 


519 


mountains  and  twines  about  the  bushes, 
sometimes  growing  eight  or  ten  feet.  After 
it  gets  to  the  top  of  the  bush  and  rests  awhile, 
it  lets  go  of  the  earth  and  goes  on  blooming 
for  months  regardless  of  the  burning  sun. 
The  flower  stem  breaks  off  near  the  ground, 
.ind  the  flowers  are  kept  swinging  in  the  air, 
supported  only  by  the  bush  about  which  it 
twines.  The  color  is  deep  rose  and  is  very 
pretty. 

Purple  Hyacinth  Bean. — A  fine,  tender 
annual  climber,  growing  from  eight  to  fifteen 
feet  in  a  season,  Treatment  very  much  like 
the  common  bean.  Flowers  in  clustered 
spikes.  There  is  a  variety  with  white  flowers. 

TULIPS. 

Tulips  ought  to  have  a  place  in  every 
garden.  They  make  a  brilliant  show  in  the 
spring  when  the  beds  are  bare  of  other 
flowers,  and  afford  bloom  for  a  long  time,  if 
a  good  assortment  is  selected.  The  pretty 
little  dwarf  Due  Van  Thols  are  early  bloomers 
and  are  very  gay.  They  are  admired  also 
for  the  house,  and  by  planting  in  September, 
will  come  into  flower  in  December.  There 
are  early  single  and  double  Tulips,  and  also 
late  bloomers,  so  that  by  having  a  variety, 
the  border  may  look  gay  for  a  long  time. 
Parrot  Tulips  are  large  and  very  brilliant  in 
color,  and  picturesque  in  appearance. 

All  of  these  varieties  succeed  in  ordinary 
garden  soil.  They  ought  to  be  planted  in 
October  or  November,  about  four  to  six 
inches  apart,  and  about  four  inches  under 
the  surface.  Before  severe  frosts  they  need 
to  be  protected  by  branches  of  evergreen, 
straw  or  leaves.  After  blooming,  and  the 
leaves  have  died  down,  they  can  be  taken  up, 
dried  and  stored  till  autumn,  if  the  bed  is 
needed  for  other  flowers. 

The  bulb  catalogues  issued  by  leading 
florists  in  the  autumn,  and  sent  free  to  all 


applicants,  will  enable  you  to  select  just  what 
you  want. 

CARNATIONS  AND  PICOTEES. 

The  Carnation  and  Picotee  differ  only  in 
the  arrangement  of  the  color,  or  markings. 
The  distinction  is  made  by  florists,  and  is  of 
course  arbitrary.  Seeds  saved  from  one  plant, 
may  produce  both  Carnations  and  Picotee,  or ' 
even  from  the  same  seed-pod.  In  an  old 
work  in  our  possession,  the  distinction  is  as 
stated,  but  for  long  years  any  flower  with  an 
irregular  edge  has  been  considered  unworthy 
of  propagation.  The  Carnation  should  have 
broad  stripes  of  color  running  through  from 
the  center  to  the  edge  of  the  petals.  The 
Picotee  has  only  a  band  of  color  on  the  edge 
of  each  petal. 

There  are  two  classes  of  Carnations,  and 
thousands  of  varieties.  The  class  of  Per 
petual  Bloomers  are  called  Monthly  and  Tree 
Carnations.  The  Garden  Carnations  are 
hardy,  and  can  be  left  in  the  garden  during 
winter  by  giving  them  a  covering  of  leaves, 
straw,  or  evergreen  boughs.  They  are  easily 
raised  from  seed.  Sown  in  June  or  July, 
will  make  good  robust  plants  before  frost, 
which  will  bloom  the  following  summer. 
Some  of  them  will  be  single,  perhaps,  and 
these  can  be  removed. 

Those  of  superior  merit  may  be  multiplied 
by  layering.  This  method  is  to  select  good 
healthy  shoots  that  have  not  bloomed,  and 
make  a  cut  midway  between  two  joints. 
First  cut  half  way  through  the  shoot,  then 
make  a  slit  lengthwise  to  a  joint.  Remove 
the  earth  a  few  inches  in  depth,  and  press 
the  branch  down  so  that  this  slit  will  open, 
and  then  cover  with  the  soil.  Roots  will 
form  where  the  cut  was  made,  and  thus  a 
new  plant  will  be  formed,  which  can  be 
removed  in  the  autumn  or  spring.  Midsum 
mer  is  the  best  time  to  do  this,  and  by 


520 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


adopting  this  method  good,  healthy    plants 
are  secured. 

The  plants  should  be  well  watered  a  day 
or  two  before  layering  is  commenced,  and 
immediately  afterward — then  only  occasion 
ally.  They  are  frequently  propagated  by 
cuttings,  which  can  be  rooted  in  wet  sand, 
or  in  light  sandy  soil. 

Perpetual  Bloomers, 

Or  Monthly  Carnations,  can  be  easily  ob 
tained  of  the  florists  for  summer  or  winter 
blooming ;  the  former  purchased  in  the 
spring  and  the  latter  in  the  autumn.  If  one 
raises  their  own  stock,  it  is  not  best  to  allow 
those  to  bloom  much  during  the  summer 
that  are  wanted  for  winter  flowering.  It  is 
well  to  sink  the  pots  in  a  good  sunny  place 
in  the  garden,  and  when  they  run  up  and 
show  signs  of  bedding,  cut  back  the  stalk  so 
that  it  may  become  more  compact  and 
branchy,  then  the  buds  in  the  late  autumn 
or  winter,  will  be  much  more  numerous. 

The  best  for  winter  blooming  are  La 
Purite  (carmine),  President  de  Grow  (white), 
Peerless  (white,  striped  with  pink)  and  Peter 
Henderson,  of  the  well  -known  varieties.  Of 
those  of  recent  introduction,  Lady  Emma  is 
excellent.  Lord  Clyde  has  for  several  years 
proved  to  be  an  excellent  winter  bloomer. 
It  is  of  a  very  robust  growth,  like  its  parent 
the  Edwardsii,  but  of  a  more  dwarf,  low- 
flowering  habit.  The  ground-work  is  white, 
thickly  striped  with  carmine,  and  a  frequent 
blotch  of  maroon ;  very  floriferous,  each  stem 
bearing  from  six  to  eight  flowrets.  Lydm  is 
another  of  the  recent  novelties,  and  is  very 
handsome.  ^  Flowers  very  large  and  intensely 
double,  of  a  rich  rosy,  orange  color  blotched 
and  flecked  with  carmine.  Crimson  King  is 
one  of  the  largest  Carnations,  very  full, 
bushy  habit,  and  robust,  color  crimson-scar- 
jet.  A  pure  bright  scarlet  is  rare;  when 


therefore,  Firebrand,  a  novelty  of  1880,  was 
announced  as  a  bright  scarlet,  It  produced 
quite  a  sensation.  It  is  very  highly  com 
mended  by  those  who  have  seen  it.  Grace 
Wilder,  Princess  Louise  and  Fred  Johnson, 
are  new  hybrid  seedlings  now  offered  for  the 
first  time  to  the  public. 

DIANTHUS. 

The  word  is  derived  from  the  Greek  wori» 
Dios,  divine,  and  Anthos,  a  flower,  God's 
flower  or  flower  of  Jove.  There  are  several  spe 
cies,  and  many  varieties  of  Dianthus ;  Dian- 
thus  Caryophyllus  is  what  is  common  known 
as  the  Clove  Pink,  and  from  it  have  been  pro 
duced  the  double  varieties  called  Carnations 
and  Picotees.  The  plant  in  its  wild  state  is 
found  growing  on  the  south  side  of  the  Swiss 
Alps,  at  a  low  altitude,  where  the  winters  are 
not  severe.  The  common  perennial  garden 
Pink  is  Dianthus  Plumarias.  The  old  and 
well-known  Chinese  Pink,  Diantlms  Chinen- 
sis,  is  a  biennial,  flowering  the  first  season 
from  seed  sown  in  spring,  lives  during  the 
winter,  blooms  the  second  year,  and  then 
dies. 

New  and  superb  varieties  have  been  intro 
duced  of  late  years  from  Japan,  and  Dianthus 
Lacinmtus,  and  Dianthus  Heddewigii,  both 
single  and  double,  make  a  splendid  display, 
and  are  among  the  most  desirable  of  our 
garden  flowers.  Dianthus  Diadematus  is  of 
dwarf  habit,  very  profuse  in  blooming, 
and  the  flowers  are  of  various  hues,  front 
white  to  dark  maroon,  and  also  beautifully 
marbled  and  spotted.  Of  the  recent  novel 
ties  Eastern  Queen  and  Crimson  Belle  are 
superb.  "Eastern  Queen"  is  beautifully 
marbled;  the  broad  bands  of  rich  mauve 
upon  the  paler  surface  of  the  petals  are  very 
striking.  "Crimson  Belle,"  as  its  name  im 
plies,  is  of  a  rich  crimson  hue,  with  dark 
markings ;  very  large  and  finely  fringed. 


CARE  AND  CULTURE  OF  PLANTS. 


For  early  blooming  it  is  well  to  sow  seed 
as  early  as  April.  June  sowing  will  secure 
good  hardy  plants  for  the  following  season. 
When  there  is  a  profusion  of  bloom,  it  is 
well  to  remove  a  portion  of  the  flowers,  so 
that  the  plants  may  not  become  exhausted, 
and  the  seed  pods  beyond  what  are  desired 
for  ripening,  ought  also  to  be  cut  off. 
DAHLIAS. 

The  genus  Dahlia  comprises  but  few  spe 
cies,  all  natives  of  the  mountains  of  Mexico, 
whose  range  is  from  5000  to  10,000  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.  About  one  hun 
dred  years  ago  a  Spanish  botanist  introduced 
seeds  of  the  Dahlia  into  his  native  country, 
And  named  the  genus  in  honor  of  a  Swedish 
botanist,  Dahl.  The  first  seed  imported 
seemed  to  be  variable  and  not  very  promis 
ing.  About  seventy  years  since,  Humboldt 
sent  fresh  seed  to  Germany.  Soon  after  this, 
both  seeds  and  bulbs  were  introduced  into 
England  and  France,  and  began  to  attract 
considerable  attention,  some  enthusiast  being 
rash  enough  to  hazard  the  assertion  that 
"  there  are  considerable  reasons  for  thinking 
that  the  Dahlia  will  hereafter  be  raised  with 
double  flowers." 

About  1812  probably  the  first  double 
Dahlia  was  grown,  but  for  several  years  after 
this  both  double  and  single  varieties  were 
figured  in  colored  plates,  and  exhibited  at 
horticultural  shows.  That  the  single  vari- 
ties  were  prized  is  not  strange,  for  the  double 
were  not  very  good,  and  even  as  late  as 
1818,  published  figures  showed  very  imper 
fect  flowers. 

The  improvement  of  the  Dahlia  after  this 
was  rapid,  and  its  popularity  quite  kept  pace 
with  its  improvement.  Dahlia  exhibitions 
were  held  in  England  and  on  the  continent, 
which  were  crowded  by  enthusiastic  admirers 
of  this  wonderful  Mexican  flower.  For 
many  years  the  Dahlia  maintained  its  popu 


larity,  but  there  is  a  fashion  in  flowers,  as  itj 
almost  everything,  and  for  a  time  the  Dahlia 
became,  to  a  certain  extent,  unfashionable, 
and  this  was  well ;  for  it  placed  the  flower 
upon  merit  alone,  and  growers  were  com 
pelled  to  introduce  new  and  superior  varie 
ties  to  command  either  attention  or  sale  for 
their  favorite  flower. 

A  taste  for  old  styles  is  now  the  "correct 
thing,"  and  so  we  have  imitations  of  ancient 
earthenware,  furniture,  etc.,  and  import 
original  Chinese  Aster  seed,  and  also  obtain 
roots  of  the  single  Dahlia  from  Mexico. 

There  are  three  pretty  distinct  classes,  the 
Show  Dahlias,  the  Dwarf  or  Bedding,  and 
the  Pompon  or  Bouquet,  and  to  this  we  may 
add  the  Fancy  Dahlia.  The  Shmv  Dahlia 
grows  from  three  to  four  feet  in  height,  and 
embraces  all  our  finest  sorts,  fit  for  exhibi 
tion  at  horticultural  shows,  from  which  the 
name  is  derived  ;  the  flowers  range  in  size 
from  two  and  a  half  to  five  inches  in  dia 
meter.  The  striped,  and  mottled  and  spotted 
varieties  belonging  to  the  Show  section  are 
called  Fancy,  and  though  not  as  rich,  nor 
usually  as  highly  prized  as  the  selfs,  or  those 
of  one  color,  are  very  attractive.  The  Dwarf 
or  Bedding  Dahlia  grows  about  eighteen 
inches  in  height,  and  makes  a  thick,  compact 
bush,  and  covers  a  good  deal  of  surface ; 
flowers  of  the  size  of  Show  Dahlias.  They  are 
therefore  very  desirable  for  bedding  and 
massing. 

The  Pompon  or  Bouquet  Dahlia  makes  a 
pretty,  compact  plant,  about  three  feet  in 
height.  The  leaves  are  small,  and  the  flowers 
from  one  to  two  inches  in  diameter.  Many 
expect  to  find  small  flowers  on  their  Dwarf 
Dahlias,  and  feel  disappointed  because  they 
are  of  the  ordinary  size,  not  knowing  that 
it  is  the  plant,  and  not  the  flower,  that  is 
dwarfed,  and  that  only  the  Pompon  gives 
the  small  flower.  The  word  Pompon  is 


522 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


French  for  topknot  or  trinket,  meaning 
about  the  same  as  the  English  word  cockade. 
The  English  term  Bouquet  is  very  appro 
priate,  as  the  flowers  are  so  small  they  are  very- 
suitable  for  bouquets.  Being  of  a  spreading 
habit,  they  cover  a  good  deal  of  ground. 
Unlike  most  of  our  bedding  out  plants,  they 
do  best  in  poor  soil ;  if  rich,  they  grow  to 
branches  and  leaves  so  much,  they  bloom 
sparingly  and  late. 

Generally  those  who  plant  Dahlias  pur 
chase  the  tuberous  roots,  because  they  give 
good  strong  plants,  that  flower  freely  without 
trouble  or  risk.  They  are  smaller  and  better 
than  the  large,  coarse  roots  usually  grown, 
because  they  are  raised  from  cuttings,  and 
generally  form  their  roots  in  pots.  When  a 
tuber  is  planted,  a  number  of  buds  that 
cluster  around  its  top  will  push  and  form 
shoots,  and  if  too  numerous,  a  portion  should 
be  removed ;  indeed,  one  good,  strong  plant 
will  suffice,  and  then  the  plant  will  become 
a  tree  instead  of  a  bush.  Even  then,  if  the 
top  become  too  thick,  a  little  thinning  of 
the  branches  will  be  of  advantage. 

If  the  young  shoots  that  start  from  the  ; 
neck  of  the  bulb,  are  cut  off  near  a  joint  and  j 
placed  in  a  hot-bed  in  sandy  soil,  they  will  ! 
root,  form  good  plants,  and  flower  quite  as 
well  as  plants  grown  from  the  tuber ;  this, 
however,  requires  some  care  and  experience, 
and   amateurs    generally  will   succeed  best  j 
with  bulbs. 

New  varieties  of  Dahlias,  of  course,  are  j 
from  seed.  Some  of  them  prove  good,  others 
fair,  and  a  portion  utterly  worthless.     As  a  | 
general  rule,  we  would  not  advise  amateurs 
to  trouble  with  seeds,  although  there  is  plea 
sure  in  watching  the  birth  and  development 
of  a  new  and  beautiful  variety. 

The  seed  of  Dahlias  may  be  sown  in  pots 
in  early  spring  or  end  of  winter,  in  a  light, 
foamy  soil ;  they  will  germinate  quickly, 


and  as  soon  as  they  begin  to  show  their  sec 
ond  leaves  they  should  be  pricked  out  into 
other  pots  or  boxes,  so  that  they  may  have 
plenty  of  room  and  air — they  are  very  liable 
to  damp  off  if  at  all  crowded.  After  pricking 
out  they  should  be  kept  in  a  thrifty,  growing 
condition,  by  proper  attention  to  watering 
and  temperature  ;  the  temperature  should  be 
maintained  as  near  70  °  as  possible,  and  the 
watering  be  sufficient  to  preserve  a  moderate 
moisture. 

If  the  green  fly  attack  them,  it  will  be 
best  to  treat  them  to  a  very  weak  dilution 
of  tobacco  water  ;  the  young  succulent  plants 
are  very  sensitive  to  smoke,  and  it  is  best  not 
to  fumigate  them.  In  about  two  months  the 
young  plants  should  be  large  enough  to  pot 
off  singly,  or  to  be  transplanted  into  a  frame 
or  bed,  where  protection  can  be  given  their 
from  the  cold  of  night-time,  or  from  late 
frosts.  As  soon  as  all  danger  is  past  they 
can  be  transplanted  into  their  summer  quar 
ters,  and  should  stand  at  least  three  feet 
apart.  The  soil  where  they  are  to  grow 
should  be  rich  and  mel  low.  In  August 
tney  will  come  into  flower,  and  those  hav 
ing  blooms  worthy  of  cultivation  can  be 
retained,  and  the  others  destroyed.  Only 
a  small  proportion  of  the  plants  grown 
from  common  seed  produce  flowers  equal 
to  those  now  in  cultivation,  but  when  seed 
is  saved  from  a  choice  collection  of  named 
varieties,  the  chances  are  that  a  large  pro 
portion  of  the  plants  will  produce  very 
good  flowers. 

The  Dahlia  is  called  gross  feeder,  but  it  is 
not.  It  loves  moisture  rather  than  rich  ele 
mentary  food.  In  clay  it  finds  the  best  con 
stituents  of  its  development — moisture,  silex, 
lime  and  alumnia.  So  we  say  to  those  who 
love  this  queenly  flower,  if  you  would  see  the 
queen  in  all  her  glory,  plant  in  a  comparative 
heavy  soil,  no  manure,  and  reduce  the  stalks 


CARE  AND  CULTURE  OF  PLANTS. 


523 


to  one  for  each  tuber,  set  the  stakes  firmly, 
to  keep  the  stalks  from  swaying,  and  if  the 
season  is  dry,  give  the  'buVos  a.  soaking  with 
water  every  evening  during  the  drought. 
My  word  for  it  you  will  then  be  proud  of 
your  success. 

The  Pompon,  or  Bouquet  Dahlia  is  a 
•  favorite  variety  of  this  genus.  The  little 
round  balls  of  bloom  are  so  pretty  and  trim. 
Beatrice,  blush  tinted  with  violet ;  Dr.  Stein, 
deep  maroon,  striped  and  mottled  ;  Gold- 
finder,  golden  yellow  ;  Little  Philip,  creamy- 
buff  edged  with  lilac;  Little  Valentine,  crim 
son  ;  Mein  Streifting,  salmon,  stripped  with 
crimson;  Pearl,  white;  Prima  Donna,  white, 
fimbriated ;  Perfection,  deep  maroor 
Ping-le  Dahlias. 

Anything  for  a  change  from  the  common 
order  of  things,  seems  to  be  the  fashion  now- 
a-days,  in  flowers  as  well  as  in  house  build 
ing  and  house  furnishing.  The  antique,  the 
antique,  is  the  rage  !  So  after  years  of  labor 
and  hybridization  to  bring  the  Dahlia  up 
from  its  native  state  of  single  blessedness,  to 
its  enormous  cauliflower  blooms,  there  comes 
a  reaction  and  now  single  Dahlias  are  praised 
as  "the  most  beautiful  of  all  flowers,"  "the 
par  excellence,  the  Londoner's  flower!"  Well, 
let  the  English  florists  thus  praise  its  beauty 
if  they  want  to,  but  we  opine  that  on  this 
side  of  the  great  ocean  it  will  never  be  con 
sidered  "the  most  beautiful  of  all  flowers," 
however  attractive  some  of  them  may  be, 
and  well  adapted  for  bouquets.  There  is  110 
danger  of  their  superceding  the  doubles, 
but  it  is  well  to  have  both  when  one  can 
afford  it ;  their  present  high  price  puts  them 
beyond  the  reach  of  those  whose  purses  are 
not  well  filled,  but  in  a  year  or  two,  when 
the  novelty  is  worn  off,  they  can  be  pur 
chased  at  half  or  even  less,  perhaps  than 
their  present  price. 

We  find  in  the    London  Garden  the   fol 


lowing:  "Dahlia  perfecta,  originally  intro 
duced  by  Messrs.  Henderson,  is  perhaps  the 
finest  flower  which  we  possess,  unless  Paro- 
gon,  brought  into  notice  by  H.  Cannell,  may 
be  considered  to  bear  away  the  palm.  TyUtea, 
a  quilled  yellow,  is  also  a  grand  bouquet 
flower." 

The  single  Dahlias,  Paragon  and  Lutea, 
are  now  offered  for  the  first  time  in  this 
country.  Color  very  dark  velvety  maroon 
with  shad  ings  of  bright  scarlet  around  each 
petal;  small  yellow  disk.  Lutea  is  pure 
yellow,  with  dark  orange  center.  The 
grandest  novelty  lately  is  the  Dahlia  Juarezii, 
and  not  only  a  novelty,  but  a  most  valuable  and 
useful  decorative  plant  for  all  purposes  through 
the  late  summer  and  autumn  months.  Its 
blossoms  are  of  a  rich  crimson,  and  very 
much  resemble  in  shape  and  color  the  well- 
known  Cactus,  Qztw&speciosissimus.  Height 
about  three  feet,  very  bushy  flowers  of  very 
striking  appearance  and  quite  unlike  those 
of  an  ordinary  double  Dahlia,  the  flowerets 
being  flat  and  not  cupped. 

CAMELLIA  JAPONIC  A. 

This  is  a  very  popular  genus  on  account  of 
their  rich  dark-green  leaves,  and  beautiful 
rose-like  flowers.  They  are  hardy  green 
house  plants,  and  thrive  best  in  light  loam 
mixed  with  sand  and  peat,  but  will  do  well 
in  light  soil  without  the  peat  It  will  not 
flourish  in  a  limestone  soil. 

The  Camellia  Japonica  was  sent  to  Eng 
land  in  1739  by  Father  Kamel,  a  mission 
ary,  for  whom  it  was  named.  As  a  house- 
plant  the  Camellia  requires  considerable  care, 
on  acccount  of  the  tendency  of  flowe*  buds 
to  drop  off.  A  northern  exposure  is  best, 
and  a  temperature  of  from  forty  to  fifty  de 
grees.  When  the  buds  are  swelling,  water 
plentifully  with  warm  water,  but  allow  none 
to  stand  in  the  saucer.  Sponge  the  leaves 
once  a  week.  In  the  spring  put  the  plant 


524 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


out  in  a  shady  place  on  the  north  side  of  a 
house  or  fence,  not  under  the  drip  of  trees, 
and  water  it  every  day.  Set  the  pots  on  a 
hard  bottom,  so  that  no  worms  can  get  into 
them.  They  form  their  flower  beds  during 
khe  summer,  and  at  this  time  a  good  growth 
of  wood  must  be  encouraged. 

Tn  the  Southern  States  the  Camellia  can 
be  raised  with  not  more  than  ordinary  care  ; 
at  the  North  it  must  be  considered  entirely 
a  green-house  plant,  and  as  such  will  always 
be  highly  prized.  We  are  often  asked  how 
it  should  be  cared  for  as  a  house-plant,  and 
to  all  such,  in  the  northern  part  of  the  coun 
try,  where  it  is  necessary  to  maintain  good 
fires  in  warm  houses  for  several  months  of 
the  year,  we  have  no  hesitation  in  saying, 
let  it  alone,  do  not  expend  care  and  labor 
where  there  is  so  little  prospect  of  reward. 

Camellias  are  of  many  hues,  and  some  are 
beautifully  striped.  Gen.  Lafayette,  bright 
rose,  striped  with  white,  imbricated.  Bell 
Romann,  imbricated,  large  flower  and  petals, 
rose  striated  with  bright  crimson.  Matteo 
Molfino,  petals  cerise,  with  pure  white  band 
down  center.  Mrs.  Lurmann,  crimson, 
spotted,  very  beautiful.  Pure  colors  of 
white,  red,  crimson,  rose  and  carmine,  can 
be  obtained. 

AZALEA. 

Shrubby  gruen  house-plants  of  easy  culti 
vation.  Very  showy  and  hardy.  Like  the 
Camelia,  they  are  found  in  all  the  leading 
colors,  and  also  striped,  blotched  and  spotted. 
They  are  both  single  and  double. 

Alexander  II,  is  white,  striped  with  ver 
milion;  edges  of  petals  fringed.  Aurelia, 
white,  striped  with  rosy  orange,  amaranth 
spots.  Flag  of  Truce,  is  a  pure  double 
white,  very  fine.  Her  Majesty,  is  rosy-lilac, 
edged  with  white.  Alice,  rose,  blotched  with 
vermilion;  double. 

Azaleas  need  a  light  soil  of  sandy  loam,  to 


which  should  be  added  one-half  leaf  mold. 
Repotting  should  be  done  in  May,  trimming 
the  tops  to  bring  them  into  shape.  Then 
plunge  in  some  sheltered  spot  in  the  garden. 
In  September  the  plants  should  be  brought 
in  under  cover  or  into  a  cool  room.  They 
do  best  when  the  temperature  ranges  from 
forty  degrees  at  night  to  sixty-five  or  seventy 
by  day.  The  foliage  should  be  showered  once 
a  week,  but  care  must  be  taken  that  the 
roots  are  not  over- watered,  as  they  rot  easily.. 
Small  plants  bloom  well,  but  their  beauty 
increases  as  they  get  age  and  size.  The 
flowers  appear  on  terminal  shoots,  and  are 
from  one  inch  to  two  and  a  half  inches  in 
diameter. 

Azaleas  if  left  to  themselves  will  develop 
long  shoots,  that  after  a  time  become  naked 
below  and  are  furnished  with  leaves  only  at 
their  extremities.  Flower  stems  are  formed 
on  the  new  wood  of  each  summer's  growth, 
consequently  the  amount  of  bloom,  other 
things  being  equal,  depends  upon  the  amount 
of  new  wood  annually  produced.  In  order 
to  have  plants  of  good  shape  when  they  be 
come  large,  it  is  necessary  to  give  attention, 
to  pinching  and  training  them  from  the  first. 
The  pyramid  form,  or  more  properly  that  of 
a  cone,  and  rounded  at  the  top,  is  considered 
the  best  for  the  plant,  as  it  allows  the  great 
est  exposure  of  leaf-surface.  Two  principal 
methods  are  adopted  to  regulate  the  growth 
and  bring  plants  into  shape ;  one  is  by  suc 
cessive  pinchings  as  the  growth  proceeds, 
the  other  by  allowing  long  shoots  to  grow 
and  then  bending  and  training  them  down, 
thus  causing  many  of  the  dormant  buds, 
along  their  whole  length  to  break  and  de 
velop  into  shoots.  A  skillful  combination  of 
the  two  methods  is  probably  better  than 
either  exclusively.  In  this  way.  the  life  of 
the  plant  is  not  injured,  and  its  productive* 
power  is  increased. 


CARE  AND  CULTURE  OF  PLANTS. 


523 


THE  ROSE. 

This  well-known  and  highly  esteemed 
family  of  plants,  or  'shrubs,  embraces  many 
distinct  species,  which,  by  the  skill  of  the 
florist,  have  multiplied  into  thousands  of 
varieties,.  They  vary  in  height  from  one 
to  twelve  or  fifteen  feet,  producing  flowers, 
single,  semi-double  and  double,  and  gener 
ally  of  exquisite  fragrance.  The  colors  are, 
jnire  white,  white-tinted,  shaded,  striped,  or 
mottled;  every  shade  of  red  to  purple,  and 
all  these  shades  and  colors  variously  mixed ; 
also  a  few  yellow  varieties.  There  are  no 
black  roses,  although  we  sometimes  hear  of 
them.  Such  as  are  sold  for  black  roses  are 
those  of  dark  shades  of  purple  or  crimson. 

The  foliage  is  also  various  in  the  different 
species  of  varieties,  but  of  a  general  charac 
ter.  They  are  different  also  in  the  appenda 
ges  to  the  plant,  some  having  formidable 
thorns,  while  others  are  entirely  destitute. 
Some  flower  only  once  in  the  season — others 
are  perpetual,  or  everblooming.  Most  are 
hardy,  but  many  require  protection.  It  is  a 
flower  beloved  by  every  one,  not  only  in  the 
present  age,  but  has  been  in  all  ages  past, 
and  will  no  doubt  continue  to  be  the  most 
prominent  and  desirable  flower  as  long  as  the 
world  stands.  It  may,  with  propriety,  be 
styled  the  Queen  offlcn,ers. 

The  Rose  is  pre-eminently  the  flower  of 
love  and  poetry,  the  very  perfection  of  floral 
realities.  Imagination  may  have  flattered 
herself  that  her  power  could  form  a  more 
perfect  beauty  ;  but,  it  is  said,  she  never  yet 
discovered  such  to  mortal  eyes.  This,  how 
ever,  she  would  persuade  us  to  be  a  mere 
matter  of  delicacy,  and  that  she  had  the 
authority  of  Apollo  for  her  secret  success : 

'  No  mortal  eye  can  reach  the  flowers, 

and  'tis  right  just,  for  well  Apollo  knows 

'T  would  make  the  poet  quarrel  with  the  Rose.' 

It  is,  however,   determined,   that  until    the 


claim  of  such  veiled  beauty,  or  beauties, 
shall  rest  upon  better  foundation,  the  Rose 
shall  still  be  considered  as  the  unrivalled 
Queen  of  flowers. 

It  is  said,  however,  that  the  angels  possess 
a  more  beautiful  kind  of  Rose  than  those 
we  have  on  earth.  David  saw  in  a  vision  a 
number  of  angels  pass  by  with  gilded  baskets 
in  their  hands. 

"  Some  as  they  went,  the  blue-eyed  Violets  strew, 
Some  spotless  L/ilies  in  loose  order  threw  ; 
Some  did  the  way  with  full- blown  Roses  spread, 
Their  smell  divine,  and  color  strangely  red  ; 
Not  such  as  our  dull  gardens  proudly  wear, 
Whom  weathers  taint,  and  winds'  rude  kisses  tear ; 
Such,  I  believe,  was  the  first  Rose's  hue, 
Which  at  God's  word  in  beauteous  Eden  grew ; 
Queen  of  the  flowers  that  made  that  orchard  gay, 
The  morning  blushes  of  the  spring's  new  day." 

COWLEY. 

The  Moss  Rose,  or  Moss  Provence  Rose, 
is  well  known  as  an  elegant  plant.  The 
flowers  are  deeply  colored,  and  the  rich  mossi 
ness  which  surrounds  them  gives  them  a 
luxuriant  appearance  not  easily  described; 
but  it  is  familiar  to  every  one.  It  is  a  frag 
rant  flower ;  its  country  is  not  known  to  us, 
and  we  know  it  only  as  a  double  flower. 

The  origin  of  its  mossy  vest  has  been  ex« 
plained  to  us  by  a  German  writer : 

'  The  angel  of  the  fl<~  wers  one  day 

Beneath  a  Rose-tree  sleeping  lay ; 

That  spirit,  to  whose  charge  is  given 

To  bathe  young  buds  in  dews  from  heaven ; 

Awaking  from  his  light  repose 

The  angel  whispered  to  the  Mose ; 

'  O  fondest  object  of  my  care, 

Still  fairest  found  where  all  are  fair, 

For  the  sweet  shade  thou'st  given  to  me, 

Ask  what  thou  wilt,  't  is  granted  thee.' 

'Then,'  said  the  Rose,  with  deepened  glow, 

'  On  me  another  grace  bestow.' 

The  spirit  paused  in  silent  thought ; 

What  grace  was  there  that  flower  had  not  t 

'Twas  but  a  moment ; — o'er  the  Rose 

A  veil  of  moss  the  angel  throws, 

And,  robed  in  nature's  simplest  weed, 

Could  there  a  flower  that  Rose  exceed?  " 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 


Care  and  Management  of  Birds   and  other   Household 

Pets. 


THE  CANARY. 

"HIS  sweet  singer  is  entitled  to  the  first 
place  in  any  and  all  places,  whether 
book,  cage  or  aviary,  his  song  being 
a  pleasure  to  the  poor  and  rich  alike,  and  he 
can  be  found  in  the  hut  of  the  poor  and  the 
mansion  of  the  rich  singing  as  sweetly  for 
one  as  the  other.  Space  will  not  permit  of 
description  or  account  of  the  origin  of  the 
Canary,  as  it  is  now  a  domesticated  bird,  as 
far  as  we  are  concerned.  The  largest  num 
ber  of  the  store-birds  are  brought  from  Ger 
many  to  this  country  every  year,  the  prefer 
ence  being  given  to  them  over  our  native 
birds  on  account  of  their  excellence  of  song, 
and  the  St.  Andresburg  and  other  warblers 
are  certainly  entitled  to  it,  as  they  are  the 
sweetest  singing  birds  in  the  world. 

A  good  St.  Andresburg  warbler,  with  its 
sweet  water  notes,  is  preferable  to  any  mock 
ing-bird  or  nightingale  for  excellence  of  its 
music  (leaving  care  and  trouble  out  of  the 
question)  and  why  are  our  native  birds  in 
ferior?  The  reason  is  we  are  a  careless 
people  about  the  beautiful  in  art  and  nature. 
When  you  go  to  buy  a  new  hat  you  want  a 
pretty  one,  and  will  pay  an  extra  price  to 
get  it.  If  you  want  a  musical  instrument 
you  will  take  a  friend  with  you  to  choose  it, 
when  you  do  not  know  anything  about  it 
yourself,  but  when  you  go  to  purchase  a 
picture  you  will  go  alone,  look  at  the  price, 
and  get  a  cheap  one,  and  consequently  a 
daub. 
526 


When  you  think  of  raising  young  birds 
you  will  run  to  the  cheapest  place,  or  from 
some  acquaintance  get  a  scrub  hen  for  a  gift, 
go  to  as  much  trouble  to  raise  scrub  birds  as 
would  be  required  to  raise  good  stock,  with  a 
very  small  extra  outlay  in  the  first  start.  The 
scrubs  you  cannot  give  away,  whereas  there 
is  a  constant  market  at  good  prices  for  good 
birds. 

There  are  so  many  kinds  of  Canaries  now 
in  existence,  or  rather  varieties  of  the  same 
family,  that  it  is  impossible  to  enter  into  a 
description  of  them.  But  when  buying  a 
bird  see  that  he  is  of  good  form,  clean  of 
limb,  and,  above  all,  never  buy  a  bird  till 
you  have  heard  him  sing,  and  are  satisfied 
with  the  quality  of  his  song.  Then  do  not 
grudge  the  price  for  a  good  bird.  When 
made  a  pet  of  it  is  priceless. 
Mating. 

The  best  time  to  mate  birds  is  in  thvi  win 
ter,  and  the  I4th  of  February  or  St.  Valen 
tine's  Day  is  by  many  considered  a  very 
lucky  day  to  place  the  birds  in  the  same 
cage.  Let  the  luck  be  as  it  may,  the  month 
of  February  in  this  country,  with  our  houses 
heated  as  they  are  now,  modernly,  is  certainly 
the  best  time  to  place  the  birds  together 
After  the  birds  are  placed  in  the  cage  to 
gether  they  usually  fight  for  a  day  or  two, 
and  sometimes  longer,  before  they  mate.  As 
soon  as  they  show  any  sign  of  mating,  by 
carrying  paper  or  anything  else  they  can 
find,  and  appear  to  be  looking  for  a  place  to 


CARE  OF  BIRDS  AND  OTHER  Pi:  IS. 


537 


put  it,  a  nest  made  of  woven  wire  and  lined 
with  cloth  should  be  secured  inside  the  cage, 
and  the  birds  left  to  themselves  as  much  as 
possible,  as  they  will  manage  their  own  af 
fairs  much  better  than  if  meddled  with.  All 
breeding  cages  should  be  made  so  that  the 
bottom  can  be  removed  for  cleaning  without 
disturbing  the  birds,  eggs,  or  young 

In  eight  days  from  the  time  the  birds  mate 
the  female  will  usually  lay  her  first  egg,  and 
generally  one  each  day  thereafter  for  three 
or  four  days,  and  in  thirteen  days  from  the 
time  the  first  egg  was  laid,  the  first  bird 
should  make  its  appearance  in  the  nest,  and 
one  each  day  thereafter  until  all  are  out.  In 
three  weeks  the  young  birds  are  able  to  take 
care  of  themselves,  and  the  old  ones  return 
to  the  labor  of  getting  ready  to  raise  another 
brood,  as  they  usually  raise  four  broods  in  a 
season ;  but  do  not  be  disappointed  if  you  do 
not  raise  more  than  one  bird  from  every 
four  eggs  that  are  laid. 

The  Color. 

In  mating  birds  the  color  of  the  offspring 
desired  may  be  of  first  importance  to  some, 
and  how  to  produce  it  from  a  cross  of  differ 
ent  colors  will  be  a  source  of  pleasure  to 
many,  therefore  a  few  of  the  principal  crosses 
will  be  given,  although  it  is  easy  to  get  the 
form  and  color  of  the  birds  that  you  would 
iesire  at  any  well-stocked  bird-store  in  the 
months  of  February  and  March,  choosing 
therefrom  a  male  and  female  of  exactly  the 
same  shade  or  marked  alike. 

But  as  some  desire  to  try  and  get  some 
thing  new,  or  that  never  was  seen  before,  as 
though  there  was  ary thing  new  under  the 
sun,  we  will  give  them  a  chance  to  try  what 
they  can  do. 

If  you  desire  to  get  pied  birds,  which  are 
generally  strong,  hearty  birds,  get  a  rich, 
yellow-splashed  male,  and  mate  it  with  a 


yellow  hen  ;  if  it  is  desired  to  get  cinna 
mon-colored  birds,  a  dark-green  male  bird 
and  a  very  light  or  white  hen  will  often  pro 
duce  them ;  and  a  very  light  cinnamon  bird 
mated  with  a  green  one  will  very  often  pro 
duce  a  dove  or  fawn-colored  variety,  which 
are  very  handsome  birds.  Most  authorities, 
agree  that  the  mating  of  topknot  birds  will 
produce  bare  poles,  but  by  many  this  is 
contradicted,  who  have  raised  beautiful 
crested  birds  from  a  male  and  female,  hav 
ing  only  moderately  good  topknots. 

A  great  improvement  can  be  made  in  the 
form  of  the  bird  most  often  met  with,  and 
known  as  the  German  bird,  by  crossing  it 
with  the  part  Belgin  or  long-breed  variety : 
and  when  the  male  bird  is  a  good  songster 
the  offspring  will  be  the  same,  if  not  better 
songsters  thant  heir  parent  bird.  The  Belgin 
variety  is  usually  not  an  extra  good  songs 
ter,  and  it  is  a  delicate  species  in  thic 
climate. 

As  soon  as  the  young  birds  leave  their 
nest  they  should  be  removed  from  the  cage 
and  the  cage  thoroughly  cleaned,  and  the 
nest  removed  to  keep  the  vermin,  with  which 
it  will  be  infested,  from  annoying  the  birds: 
and  when  your  cage  it,  dry  and  fresh  seed 
and  water  in  it,  return  the  birds,  and  they 
will  get  the  most  comfortable  wight'';  rest 
they  ever  had  in  their  young  lives. 

The  proper  seed  for  young  birds  is  crushed 
hemp,  canary  millet  and  rape.  In  addition 
give  crackers  steeped  in  milk  and  hard  boiled 
egg.  Cuttle-fish  hung  in  the  cage  and  gravel 
spread  on  the  bottom  of  the  cage  ai-e  really 
necessary,  and  the  least  care  and  attention 
that  is  paid  to  them  otherwise  the  better  they  r 
will  get  along.  The  best  place  to  raise  birds 
is  in  a  quiet  room.  After  they  are  raised 
they  ought  to  be  removed  to  where  they  will 
have  a  first-class  singing  bird  for  an  instruc 
tor,  and  by  this  means  and  treatment  our 


528 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


American  birds  will  get  a  reputation  such 
as  the  German    birds  never  had,  and   that 
is  saying  a  good  deal. 
Food. 

The  best  food  for  Canaries  is  rape,  millet 
and  canary  seed,  and  occasionally  a  little  let 
tuce  and  maw  ^-eed.     Any  sweet  vegetable 
/s  good  for  them,  but  sweetcakes  and  sugar 
should  not  be  given.      A  good  mixture  to 
keep  your  birds  in  song  and  health  is  made 
as  follows :  One  pound  sweet  crackers  pul 
verized,  three    hard    boiled  eggs,  and  one- 
half  ounce  of  Cayenne  pepper  (which  should 
be    bought    at  a  responsible  drug-store  to 
-make  sure  that    it  is   not  mixed  with  red 
lead,  which    is  a   deadly  poison);  take  the 
.shell  off  the  eggs,  rub  them  and    the  pep 
per  into  the  pulverized  crackers  with  your 
Tiands  until  thoroughly  incorporated,  spread 
it  on  a  board  and   place  it  in  a  dry  place 
'(not  in  the  sun)  until   perfectly  dry,  when 
it  can  be    put  away  foi   use;    it  will  keep 
indefinitely,  and  will    save    the    time    and 
trouble  of  boiling  eggs  every  day. 

Give  a  teaspoonful  a  day  to  each  bird, 
in  a  small  dish,  in  addition  to  the  other 
food.  Never  buy  package  seed,  for  it  is  apt 
to  be  musty  and  a  large  portion  of  millet 
.seed  of  the  poorest  quality  mixed  in  it,  and 
wi/1  be  very  apt  to  injure  the  health  of  your 
bird.  If  possible  buy  your  seed  from  a  bird 
store  and  get  the  same  as  they  use  for  their 
own  birds,  even  if  you  have  to  pay  a  higher 
price  for  it.  In  addition  to  this  feed  a  small 
piece  of  lean  beef  scraped  fine,  once  a  week, 
will  be  found  beneficial  to  your  bird.  Al 
ways  hang  cuttle-fish  in  the  cage. 

The  Mule  Bird. 

These  are  generally  procured  by  crossing 

male  bird  of  the  other  species  with  a  hen 

Canary,  and  lovely  birds  are  often  produced 

by  crossing  the  European  goldfinch,  the  sis 


kin,  the  linnet,  the  bullfinch,  the  indigc 
bunting,  the  nonpariel  and  bobolink  with  a 
well-formed  and  very  tame  hen  Canary,  the 
treatment  being  in  every  respect  the  same 
as  the  Canaries. 

THE  MOCKING  BIRD. 

Next  to  the  Canary  comes  this  lovely 
songster  in  general  favor,  and  a  cute,  cuni 
ning  lovely  pet  he  is,  knowing  his  friends 
and  recognizes  them  as  quick  as  a  dog 
would,  greeting  them  with  a  shrill  whistle 
and  a  spring  from  his  perch  ai  much  as  to 
say,  "Dear  master,  what  have  you  got  for 
me  now?"  Don't  delay,  but  give  him  the 
worm,  spider  or  grasshopper,  see  him  jump 
to  his  perch  and  sing  with  it  in  his  beak,  as 
much  as  possible  to  make  you  understand 
how  grateful  he  feels  to  you  for  the  favor, 
after  which  he  will  get  down  to  the  bottom 
of  the  cage  and  eat  it,  but  before  doing  so 
making  sure  that  it  is  dead;  then  up  to  his 
perch  he  bounds,  and  the  yell  of  a  dog  that 
is  hurt  could  not  be  shriller  than  the  scream 
that  he  will  give,  changing  into  the  song  oi 
the  robin,  canary,  sparrow. 

All  at  once  he  stops.  Then  you  will  heai 
a  hen  cackling,  a  rooster  crowing,  a  cat 
mewing,  or  a  pig  squealing  ;  then  there  is  a 
silence  ;  he  is  pluming  his  feathers,  the  ex 
citement  is  all  over,  for  a  half  hour  he  will 
work  away  industriously,  or  until  every  fea 
ther  is  in  place,  when  he  will  commence  to 
sing  some  notes  very  loud  and  sometimes 
very  low,  varying  his  prelude  before  the  opera 
commences ;  then  off  he  starts,  being  a  whole 
concert  in  himself,  and  for  hours  he  will 
sing  without  intermission. 

When  you  make  up  your  mind  to  have  a 
Mocking  Bird  go  to  some  responsible  bird 
dealer  and  get  him  to  choose  a  good  young 
male  bird,  which  he  can  do  by  the  markings 
of  the  plumage  and  by  the  formation  of  the 


CARE  OF  RIRDS  AND  OTHER  PETS. 


529 


body  of  the  bird,  and  whether  it  will  make 
a  good  song  bird.  As  the  Mocking  Bird 
takes  three  years  to  come  into  full  song  it  is 
of  no  second  importance  that  you  should 
get  a  good  one.  The  best  time  to  buy  is  in 
November,  for  then  the  bird  will  be  through 
its  first  mousing,  which  is  most  dangerous 
to  all  young  birds,  and  more  particularly  to 
Mocking  and  soft-feed  birds  in  this  climate. 
Before  you  get  your  bird  get  a  large  cage 
and  have  it  in  readiness  for  him,  and  let  it 
be  such  a  cage  as  you  will  desire  to  keep 
him  in  for  years,  for  of  all  birds  the  Mocking 
Bird  dislikes  to  have  any  change  made  in  his 
habitation,  and  especially  his  cage. 


Food  for  the  Mocking- 

It  must  be  sweet,  for  if  at  all  sour  it  will 
give  him  the  diarrhoea,  which  proves  fatal 
with  a  great  many  birds.  Never  buy  mixed 
Mocking  Bird  food.  If  you  have  not  got 
time  to  mix  your  bird's  food,  which  should 
IDC  done  every  morning,  sell  the  bird,  or  to 
kill  him  instantly  would  be  more  charitable 
than  to  give  him  what  will  cause  a  lingering 
<Ieath,  Buy  pure  Mocking  Bird  food  at  a 
bird  store,  and  every  morning  mix  enough 
with  about  an  equal  quantity  of  finely-grated 
raw  carrot,  or  boiled  potato  mashed  very  fine 
.and  thoroughly  mixed,  and  it  is  best  to  vary 
it,  giving  the  bird  the  potato  mixture  one 
day  and  the  carrot  the  next  ;  and  every  other 
-day  it  will  be  well  to  give  or  mix  into  the 
food,  along  with  the  potato  or  carrot,  a  part 
of  a  hard-boiled  egg  ;  a  pepper-pod  should 
foe  hung  in  the  cage,  and  a  few  insects  or 
meal  worms  given  every  day. 

Gravel  and  water  are  essential  to  all  birds, 
and  should  be  given  to  this  one.  By  proper 
attention  to  the  above  rules  a  Mocking  Bird 
can  be  kept  in  song  for  eight  or  ten  years  in 
.a  cage,  although  they  have  been  known  to 
live  twenty  years.  After  nine  or  ten  they 
340  ' 


ao  not  sing  ana  are  of  little  value,  as  the) 

become  more  liable  to  disease  year  by  year. 

THE  RED  BIRD 

comes  next  to  the  mocking  bird  in  general 
favor,  this  being  one  of  our  most  beautiful 
birds,  and  selling  at  a  moderate  price,  so 
easily  kept  in  confinement.  Such  a  loud 
and  almost  constant  songster  well  deserves 
to  be  a  general  favorite.  Who  can  help  but 
love  to  see  the  beautiful  red  fellow  showing 
his  coat  of  smooth  cardinal  feathers,  red  bill  , 
and  jet  black  whiskers,  and  his  lovely  crest  i 
that  he  can  erect  or  depress  at  pleasure, 
forming  a  foolscap  on  the  top  of  his  head, 
and  he  is  really  one  of  our  hardiest  birds,  tf 
properly  fed,  being  liable  to  fewer  ailments- 
than  most  other  birds. 

The  proper  food  being  a  mixture  of  wild 
rice  or  pada,  wheat,  canary,  oats,  sunflower, 
and  a  very  little  hemp,  crackers  steeped  in 
milk,  with  a  little  red  pepper  in  it,  and  a 
couple  of  meal  worms,  and  other  insects  every 
day,  a  small  quantity  of  raw,  lean  meat 
scraped  fine,  the  core  of  sweet  apple  once 
or  twice  a  week  ;  a  little  cuttle  fish  should 
always  hang  in  the  cage$  also  a  red  pepper 
pod,  gravel  and  water,  which  you  must  giv* 
to  all  birds  clean  and  fresh.  When  so 
treated  he  will  live  and  sing  for  seven  or 
eighth  years  in  confinement,  a  pleasure  and 
delight  to  all  who  see  and  hear  him. 
THE  BOBOLINK. 

Next  in  general  favor  comes  the  Bobolink, 
on  account  of  his  merry  jingle  of  a  song, 
and  which  is  the  merriest  song  of  all  birds, 
and  the  low  price  that  he  can  be  bought  at 
in  the  Spring  of  the  year.  A  person  owning 
a  Bobolink  really  lias  two  birds  in  the  year  in 
appearance.  In  summer  he  is  gaudy,  black, 
yellow  and  white ;  in  winter  he  changes  to 
brown,  yellow  and  black  streaks,  and  resem 
bles  the  female,  which  always  retains  this 


53° 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


sombre   colored   plumage.     He  likes  to  ap 
pear  in  a  new  dress. 

When  properly  treated  this  bird  will  sing 
ten  months  out  of  twelve,  his  song  being 
much  like  the  canary's,  but  much  louder. 
His  proper  food  is  millet  and  canary,  and  to 
keep  him  in  health  and  song  he  requires  in 
sects  the  same  as  the  red  birds.  When 
moulting  he  should  be  given  in  addition  to 
above  some  hemp  seed,  but  not  at  other 
times,  as  it  is  too  fattening,  and  as  he  is  in 
clined  to  be  somewhat  of  a  glutton,  and  gets 
very  fat  and  too  lazy  to  sing.  When  so 
treated  he  will  live  in  the  cage  and  sing  five 
to  eight  years. 

THE  AMERICAN  GOLDFINCH. 

This  bird  has  a  great  many  names,  such 
as  the  wild  canary,  Canadian  yellow  bird, 
mustard  bird,  hanging  bird,  Yankee  whang- 
doodle,  etc.  It  is  admired  and  loved  by  all, 
its  body  being  covered  with  a  coat  of  rich 
lemon-colored  feathers,  excepting  the  top  of 
the  head,  wings  and  tail,  which  are  jet  black 
splashed  with  white,  its  bill  and  feet  pink, 
giving  the  little  fellow  an  elegant  appear 
ance,  their  song  being  a  lovely  jingling 
warble,  and  very  similar  to  its  European 
cousin,  and  in  the  cage  it  sings  with  great 
animation.  They  become  very  tame,  but 
do  not  generally  live  long  in  confinement. 
They  have  been  known  to  mate  with  the 
female  canary,  but  their  offspring  is  very 
delicate,  and  almost,  if  not  impossible  to 
raise. 

Food,  a  mixture  of  lettuce,  canary,  rape, 
and  maw  seeds,  thistle  seed  and  ripe  plantain 
when  it  can  be  had ;  red  pepper,  green  let 
tuce  and  grass  they  are  fond  of. 

THE  BLUE  JAY. 

Another  beautiful  bird,  and  no  one  can 
help  but  admire  the  beautiful  Jay  as  he  wel 
comes  you  to  his  cage,  with  his  crest  erect. 


He  may  be  taught  to  whistle  tunes  almost 
perfect  when  taken  young,  and  trained  to  do 
many  amusing  things  at  command;  but  if 
allowed  to  run  at  large  he  is  apt  to  be  mis- 
chevious  like  all  the  rest  of  the  crow  family. 
He  is  a  hardy  bird  and  will  live  many  years 
in  confinement  if  fed  on  bread  and  milk, 
oats,  a  little  raw  meat  cut  fine,  and  part  of  a 
raw  egg ;  once  in  a  while  a  little  sweetmeats 
will  be  a  great  treat  for  him  if  not  given  too 
often.  Give  him  plenty  of  water  tc  bathe 
in,  and  plenty  of  gravel  to  pick,  and  any 
kind  of  fruit  or  insects  will  be  appreciated. 
His  cage  must  be  large  to  save  his  plumage. 

THE  ROBIN 

is  also  quite  a  pet ;  a  very  strong,  hardy  bird, 
with  a  coarse  yet  rather  pleasant  song  when 
wild.  If  taken  young  the  male  may  be 
taught  to  whistle  very  sweetly.  Being  easily 
kept  he  is  quite  a  favorite  among  some  people, 
there  being  a  strange  superstition  among 
others  that  it  is  unlucky  for  a  Robin  to  be 
kept  in  a  house,  and  when  such  nonsense 
gets  into  the  head  of  a  human  being  there 
is  no  way  to  get  it  out  unless  you  split  the 
head  open  with  an  ax,  and  then  you  will  find 
the  ghost.  Treat  the  Robin  the  same  as 
mocking  birds. 

THE  CAT  BIRD 

is  really  the  rival  of  the  mocking  bird,  but 
if  anything  harder  to  raise,  and  not  many 
of  them  make  good  songsters  in  the  cage; 
but  when  you  get  a  good  one,  that  has  beer 
raised  from  the  nest,  you  have  a  lovely  pet 
They  require  the  same  treatment  as  the 
mocking  bird  and  the  same  food. 

THE  BROWN  THRUSH. 

Another  very  fine  strong  bird,  but  not  by 
any  means  a  constant  singer,  singing  princi 
pally  in  April,  May  and  June.  Treatment 
the  same  as  the  mocking  bird;  food  the 
same. 


CARE  OF  BIRDS  AND  OTHER  PETS. 


THE  NONPAB1EL. 

Who  can  help  but  admire  this  beautiful 
plumaged  bird,  called  by  some  the  Mexican 
canary,  and  by  the  English  the  painted  bunt 
ing,  and  they  cannot  be  blamed  for  giving  it 
that  nickname,  for  it  certainly  looks  more 
like  the  work  of  an  artist  who  was  fond  of 
high  colors  than  the  work  of  nature.  For 
its  great  beauty  alone  it  should  be  kept  by 
all  bird  fanciers,  and  then  its  song  is  very 
sweet,  and  it  becomes  very  tame.  This 
bird  should  be  fed  011  canary,  millet  and 
rape,  and  in  addition  given  a  few  insects 
such  as  meal  worms,  etc.,  also  fruits  and  a 
little  green  food.  When  so  treated  it  will 
live  fot  about  eight  years  in  confinement. 
THE  INDIGO  BIRD. 

This  is  another  handsome  blue  bird,  very 
hardy  and  a  loud,  good  singer.  No  one  ever 
regrets  buying  this  bird.  His  food  should 
be  canary,  rape  and  millet  seed,  and  in  addi 
tion  a  few  insects,  which  they  are  very  fond 

of. 

THE  LINNET. 

This  is  a  very  thrifty,  hardy  bird,  a  good 
songster,  and  readily  mates  with  the  canary, 
producing  a  very  beautiful  songster.  The 
seed  given  to  it  should  be  canary,  millet  and 
rape.  Gravel  and  water  should  be  given  to 
all  Inrds,  including  this  one. 

ENGLISH  TRU8H 

is  3  very  fine  songster  in  its  natural  home, 
but  in  this  country  there  is  not  one  in  four 
that  make  good  singing  birds.  If  you  have 
one  treat  it  the  same  as  the  mocking  bird. 

ENGLISH  BLACK  BIRD. 
Now  you  come  to  a  European  bird  that  is 
hardy  and  handsome,  as  well  as  a  splendid 
songster,  his  plumage  being  a  beautiful 
shining  black,  and  his  bill  a  bright  orange 
or  gold  color.  Feed  and  treat  him  the  same 
as  the  mocking  bird. 


EUROPEAN  STARLING. 

This  is  a  very  fine  bird,  and  one  of  the 
handsomest  of  the  European  birds,  being  a 
beautiful  black,  speckled  all  over  the  body 
feathers  with  a  yellowish  white.  See  him  in 
the  sun  and  he  will  certainly  attract  anyone's 
attention.  His  song  is  very  sweet,  and  he  is 
a  constant  singer,  summer  and  winter,  and 
can  be  trained  to  sing  and  whistle  tunes,  and 
perform  other  amusing  tricks  easier  than  most 
of  other  birds.  His  treatment  should  be  the 
same  as  other  soft-feed  birds,  but  he  is  a 
hardy  fellow  and  does  well  on  bread  and 
milk,  varied  alternately  with  mocking-bird 
food,  sand  and  gravel  to  eat  and  roll  in,  and 
plenty  of  water  to  bathe  in,  being  essential 
to  health.  When  so  treated  he  usually  lives 
ten  years  in  confinement. 

THE  NIGHTINGALE. 

This  is  considered  by  many  Europeans  to 
excel  our  mocking  bird ;  and  Wilson,  a 
Scotchman,  in  his  ornithology  of  North 
American  birds,  concedes  the  superiority  o't 
our  mocking  bird,  and  even  goes  so  far  as  to 
bring  into  his  work  a  quotation  from  Shake 
speare,  "That  if  the  Nightingale  sang  by 
day  its  song  would  not  be  considered  superior 
to  the  cackle  of  a  goose."  But  the  Nightin 
gale  is  a  superb  songster,  and  if  he  could  be 
with  any  certainty  kept  in  his  cage  in  this 
country  for  any  length  of  time  he  would  be 
a  very  valuable  bird  for  us  as  an  instructor 
of  the  canary,  as  he  does  not  get  the  discor 
dant  yells  into  his  song  as  our  Mocking 
bird  is  apt  to  do ;  but  not  one  in  ten  can  be 
kept  for  a  year  in  a  cage,  but  they  usually  do 
well  in  an  aviary  or  large  room,  where  there 
can  be  some  small  trees.  They  should  be 
fed  and  treated  the  same  as  the  Mocking 

bird. 

THE  SISKIN, 

or   black-headed  thistle  finch  of  Europe,  is 
not  a  very  handsome  bird,  biit  a  good  one. 


532 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


The  prevailing  color  of  its  plumage  is  a 
yellowish-green,  very  elegantly  shaded  with 
black;  a  neat  little  bird  and  usually  very 
hardy,  and  can  be  mated  with  the  Canary 
female.  Rape,  canary,  hemp  and  maw 
seeds,  thistle  seed,  when  it  can  be  had,  and 
a.  little  cracker  soaked  in  milk  it  generally 
Becomes  very  fond  of.  Gravel  and  water 
must  be  given  to  keep  health.  He  is  fond 
of  bathing  and  should  have  plenty  of  water 
for  that  purpose,  except  when  moulting. 

THE  CHAFFINCH. 

This  is  a  greatly  admired  songster,  and  it 
well  deserves  to  be,  for  it  is  one  of  the  most 
elegantly  formed  and  handsomest  of  birds ; 
a  very  fair  songster  naturally  and  an  apt 
scholar,  and  sometimes  can  be  induced  to 
mate  with  the  female  Canary,  producing  a 
lovely-formed  bird  of  good  plumage  and  an 
excellent  songster.  Canary,  rape  and  millet 
seeds  are  the  proper  food  for  these  birds. 

THE  BULLFINCH. 

This  k  a  badly-formed  bird,  putting  one 
in  mind  of  a  thoroughbred  alderman,  with 
a  big  paunch,  its  body  being  too  thick  for  its 
length,  and  to  make  it  look  still  worse  its 
tail  is  not  long.  It  can  be  readily  taught  to  j 
perform  many  tricks,  which  are  very  amus- 
-ing.  Its  natural  song  is  not  good,  and  when 
•trained  the  price  is  so  high  that  it  puts  them 
almost  out  of  the  market,  when  it  is  con 
sidered  that  they  are  not  hardy  birds  in  this 
climate.  Seeds  should  be  rape,  canary  and 
millet,  and  a  piece  of  dry  cracker  and  hard- 
boiled  egg  ground  together  they  are  very 
fond  of.  They  can  be  induced  sometimes  to 
.mate  with  a  female  Canary. 

THE  GREEN  LINNET. 
v     This  beautiful  little  bird  is  a  great  favorite 
"with  those  that  desire  to  cross-breed  birds,  j 
:and  when  this  bird  is  mated  with  the  Canary, 
which  can  readily  be  done,  they  produce  the 


very  finest  of  singing  birds,  and  are  sold  as 
Green  Canaries,  their  song  being  louder  than 
the  Canary  of  purer  blood,  and,  in  addition, 
they  are  hardier.  They  require  the  same 
seed  and  treatment  as  the  Canary. 
THE  SKYLARK 

is  a  great  favorite  amongst  Europeans,  as  it 
deserves  to  be,  but  in  this  country,  where 
many  birds  are  kept,  it  is  generally  given 
the  cold  shoulder.  It  does  well  in  the  avi 
ary,  and  it  will  sing  in  a  lark  cage  or  special 
cage  made  for  it,  but  will  not  sing  in  an 
ordinary  cage,  and  will  not  live  long  in  any 
kind  of  a  cage.  Crackers  and  milk,  also  maw 
and  rape  seeds,  meal  worms  and  ant  eggs,  are 
the  proper  food.  Gravel  and  water  and  a 
piece  of  green  sod  they  must  have  in  their 
cage  all  the  time. 

THE  JAVA  SPARROW. 

A  most  beautiful  bird,  comes  to  us  from 
the  Island  of  Java.     It  is  almost  impossible 
to  tell  whether  the  coat  of  feathers,  which 
are  heavy,  are  skin  or  feathers,  by  the  naked 
eye,  they  are  so  smooth  and  close  011  the 
bird's  body;  a  true  object  of  beauty,  but  not 
generally   good   songsters.     There   are   two 
varieties  of  them  brought  to  this  country — • 
the  gray  and  the  white,  the  white  being  a 
scarce  bird  and  much  higher-priced.     These 
birds  being  quarrelsome  it  is  difficult  to  get 
them   mated  with  a  Canary,  but  when  ac 
complished   it  will  pay  yon  for  the  trouble, 
the  young  being  hardy,,  easily  raised,  very 
handsome,  and  exceller/.  songsters.     Canary, 
millet  and  oats  sliouW  be  tl>x:  general  food. 
Gravel  and  water  trs-.y  must  have,  as  they 
are  very  quarrelsci'j^  little  fellows.     If  two 
males  are  put  into  one  cage  they  will  fight 
like    the    Kilkenny  cats,   or   until   there  is 
nothing  left  but  their  tails.    This  sltows  that 
male  creatures  should  ue^irr  be  without  re 
fining  female  society 


CARE  OF  BIRDS  AND  OTHER  PETS. 


533 


THE  JAPANESE  ROBIN. 

This  lovely  bird  is  now  coming  into  gen 
eral  favor,  as  well  lie  should,  for  his  elegant 
form  and  beautiful  plumage,  which  is  of 
many  distinct  colors.  As  his  name  implies 
he  comes  to  us  from  Japan.  He  is  a  very 
good  songster,  and  might  be  called  a  mocker 
of  birds.  Hearing  another  bird  sing  he  will 
listen,  and  apparently  record  the  tune  and 
notes,  and,  to  your  suprise,  in  a  day  or  two 
he  will  come  out  with  his  new  song  almost 
as  perfect  as  the  bird  he  is  imitating.  He 
should  be  fed  and  treated  the  same  as  the 
mocking  bird,  and  when  so  treated  he  will 
live  many  years,  and  sing  nine  or  ten 
months  in  the  year. 

THE  TROOPIAL,. 

This  very  beautiful  bird  comes  to  us  from 
South  America,  where  it  is  tolerably  plenti 
ful,  but  on  account  of  its  great  beauty,  hearty 
constitution,  and  excellence  of  song,  he  is 
such  a  favorite  where  known  that  the  market 
is  large  for  him,  and  the  price,  consequently, 
high.  A  more  lovely  pet  cannot  be  gotten 
from  a  naturalist  than  this  one.  Food  and 
general  treatment  the  same  as  the  mocking 

bird. 

THE  PARROTS. 

Now  we  come  to  a  family  of  birds  which 
is  large  and  beautiful,  with  but  very  few 
exceptions,  and  a  number  of  them  have  the 
power  of  learning  to  talk.  As  a  general 
thing,  however,  the  most  beautiful  of  them 
are  not  what  can  be  called  talkers,  and  in  a 
work  of  this  kind  it  will  bean  impossibility 
to  give  a  description  of  many  of  them. 
The  Gray  Parrot. 

This  kind  comes  to  us  from  Africa,  and 
is  an  ashen-gray  color,  with  the  end  of  the 
tail  red  and  a  black  beak,  and  is  one  of  the 
best  talkers  and  will  whistle  like  a  good  fel 
low,  and  may  be  considered  one  of  the  best- 


natured  of  the  Polly  family,  but  in  this 
country  he  is  usually  not  a  hardy  bird,  espec 
ially  for  the  first  year  or  or  two. 

The  Double  Yellow-Head. 

This  is  a  South  American  bird  ana  an 
equal  in  every  respect  to  the  gray  parrot 
above  described,  and  much  hardier  in  this 
climate,  and  if  one  wing  is  clipped  and  the 
bird  allowed  to  run  around  the  house,  plac 
ing  a  perch  on  a  stand,  which  the  bird  wi?.l 
get  onto  whenever  it  is  going  to  drop,  keep 
ing  it  in  a  clean  and  healthy  condition,  and. 
never  soiling  the  carpet  or  anything  else. 

Cuban  Parrot. 

This  is  the  general  favorite  on  account  of 
its  aptness  in  learning  almost  anything  it 
hears  and  the  low  price  at  which  it  sells.  It 
readily  learns  to  sing,  whistle,  and  say  a 
great  many  words  and  sentences,  and  per 
forms  a  great  many  amusing  tricks,  such  as 
hanging  by  one  and  then  by  two  feet,  and 
then  by  the  bill  alone  to  a  perch,  turning 
over  and  over  on  the  perch,  flapping  his 
wings,  at  the  same  time  yelling  like  a  Com- 
anche  Indian. 

One  three  years  old  owned  by  the  writet 
will  talk  and  act  as  follows:  Keep  your 
weather-eye  open,  he,  hi,  ho ;  your  other  eye 
to  the  wind  and  Cuty  will  get  hurt ;  up,  up, 
oh,  'tis  so  nice  ;  Nellie,  oh,  'tis  so  nice;  hur 
rah,  oh  hurrah,  boys  ;  rats,  rats,  shut  up, 
what  you  doing ;  kiss  Nellie ;  stick  a  feather 
in  your  nose ;  oh,  it  hurts  ;  which  it  learned 
from  having  the  caked  food  removed  from 
its  nostrils  by  the  use  of  the  stem  end  of  a/ 
feather;  and  to  the  dog:  Oh,  Prince,  kiss 
Nellie,  kiss  Nellie  ;  for  all  that  is  good,  kiss 
Nellie.  He  will  run  after  a  cat  or  bird,  yeL» 
ling  ketch  the  catee,  or  ketch  the  doggee,  at 
every  few  steps  ;  will  sing  when  told  to  do 
so,  and  when  done  singing  will  say  that  is 
the  way  to  do  it,  and  laugh  like  a  lady  a£ 


534 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


the  very  idea  of  singing  and  talking,  and  it 
is  as  much  opposed  to  profanity  as  a  sincere 
church  deacon. 

When  it  hears  an  oath  or  profane  expres 
sion  it  will  say,  "  Ah,  ah,"  and  walk  back 
Wards  as  quick  as  it  can  to  get  away.  And 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  many  of  our  profess 
ing  Christian  brethren  would  be  put  to 
;hame  by  the  true  Christian  spirit  shown  by 
the  beautiful  bird  called  a  Parrot  when  pro 
perly  trained. 

The  Blue  Front  Amazon. 

This  is  a  very  fine  bird,  and  will  make  a 
good  pet,  but  not  much  of  a  talker  in  the 
English  or  German  language,  but  in  Spanish 
it  will  excel  most  other  birds,  both  in  sing 
ing  and  talking. 

The  Bed  Front  Parrot 

is  a  South  American  bird,  very  hardy,  and  a 
very  good  cheap  bivd  and  amusing  pet 

The  Shell   Parakeet. 

This  beautiful  bird  conies  to  us  from 
Australia,  and  are  often  called  love  birds, 
their  habits  resembling  the  true  love  bird  so 
much  in  the  affection  they  show  for  each 
other.  That  and  their  beautiful  plumage  and 
form  of  the  bird  makes  it  a  great  favorite. 

Their  food  should  be  rape  and  canary,  and 
in  addition  some  fruit,  a  little  maw  seed  once 
a  week  ;  gravel  and  water  the  same  as  all 
other  birds  must  be  given  to  them.  There 
are  a  great  variety  of  Parakeets,  and  all 
should  be  treated  the  same  way.  A  few  of 
them  can  be  taught  to  say  words,  but  none 
of  them  make  good  talkers. 

The  Jjoreys 

are  the  handsomest  of  the  Parrot  family,  but 
few  of  them  talk,  and  none  excel  in  talking. 
Treat  them  the  same  as  the  Parakeets.  They 
will  whistle  and  sing  and  perform  all  kinds 


of  amusing   tricks,    and    have    often    been 
taught  to  waltz  to  music  of  the  violin  and 
piano.    They  are  tolerably  hardy,  and  if  kept 
in  health  will  live  long  in  confinement. 
The  Cockatoos 

are  a  very  handsome  branch  of  the  Parrot 
family,  and  all  are  very  handsomely  crested, 
birds,  but  not  good  talkers,  but  very  apt  at 
learning  other  things,  and  become  very  tame 
and  playful,  it  being  very  amusing  to  watch 
them  playing  with  a  stick,  taking  it  in  their 
bills  and  reaching  with  onefoot  for  it,  then 
rolling  over  on  their  back,  and  screaming, 
while  they  toss  the  stick  about  in  their  claws. 
If  you  have  one  of  these  beautiful  birds  feed 
it  on  canary,  hemp  and  sunflower,  and  wild 
rice.  The  seed  should  be  placed  where  the 
bird  can  always  get  it,  but  crackers  and 
coffee,  or  tea  with  sugar  and  milk  in  it  ought 
to  be  given ;  plenty  of  gravel  and  water  and 
some  fruit  is  about  all  that  is  required  to 
keep  your  bird  in  health. 

The  Macaws 

are  very  long  and  beautiful  birds,  but  should 
not  be  kept  in  a  cage,  as  they  are  apt  to  get 
their  beautiful  long  tail  soiled,  which  mars 
the  splendid  appearance  of  the  bird.  The 
aviary  is  the  proper  place  foi  this  bird,  in 
which  his  lovely  plumage  is  shown  to  ad 
vantage.  When  taken  young  they  can  be 
taught  to  speak  well,  but  when  old  they 
rarely  accomplish  much  in  talking. 

Their  food  should  be  wild  rice,  oats,  corn, 
crackers,  and  plenty  of  fruit,  such  as  mel 
low  apples,  bananas,  pairs,  etc.,  which  they 
are  very  fond  of,  and  is  necessary  to  keep 
the  bird  in  health. 

The  entire  Parrot  family  is  very  long 
lived,  it  being  a  recorded  fact  that  they  live 
ninety  years  in  confinement,  but  the  aver 
age  of  a  healthy,  well-kept  bird  is  twenty- 
five  years. 


CARE  OF  BIRDS  AND  OTHER  PETS. 


535 


Teaching-  to  Talk. 

A  parrot  will  pick  up  very  readily  from 
any  one  it  hears  talking,  but,  like  a  child, 
it  is  apt  to  learn  what  is  not  desirable,  but 
this  can  be  overcome  by  the  owner  of  the 
,pet  taking  it  into  a  room  that  is  quiet  for 
naif  an  hour  twice  a  day,  and  teaching  by 
"*  repeating  to  it  in  the  same  tone  of  voice 
three  or  four  words  day  after  day  until 
learned,  always  using  the  same  words.  It 
will  soon  commence  to  answer,  and  make 
use  of  other  words  that  it  has  heard  cas 
ually  spoken,  and  if  such  words  are  not  de- 
sited,  they  should  be  frowned  on  at  once, 
and  the  bird  scolded.  If  he  is  encouraged 
or  laughed  at,  and  he  repeats  the  objection - 
abe  words  several  times,  it  will  be  hard  to 
break  him  of  saying  them  in  future. 

Never  feed  parrots  meat.  If  lean  it  will 
leat  the  blood,  and  cause  the  bird  to  pull 
out  its  feathers ;  if  fat  meat  is  given  it  will 
give  the  bird  the  diarrhoea,  as  in  their  nat 
ural  state  they  live  altogether  on  fruit,  seeds, 
roots  and  nuts. 

PIGEONS. 

Most  boys  love  to  have  pets  outside  the 
house,  and  many  prefer  the  Pigeon  to  any 
other.  The  first  thing  to  be  done  when  you 
desire  to  have  Pigeons  is  to  prepare  a  roost 
or  cot,  which  may  be  made  in  any  barn, 
shed,  or  outhouse,  or  a  large  box  may  be  put 
up  sufficiently  high  to  prevent  cats  or  other 
animals  from  getting  to  it.  Pigeons  must 
be  fed  and  confined  to  their  cots  till  they 
have  young,  or  they  will  be  apt  to  find  other 
quarters  which  they  may  prefer.  Then 
choose  your  Pigeons,  if  common  ones,  which 
are  the  best  in  cities,  as  they  are  less  liable  to 
be  decoyed  away,  and  as  they  can  be  had 
for  from  forty  to  fifty  cents  a  pair.  A  pair 
of  fancy  ones  will  cost  you  all  the  way  from 
one  t«  twenty  dollars. 


Beautiful  Varieties. 

There  are  very  many  beautiful  breeds  of 
Pigeons.  The  Blue  Rock  Dove  is  a  very 
handsome  bird  ;  also  the  Pouter,  which  has 
the  power  of  inflating  its  chest  to  such  an 
extent  that  they  appear  to  be  double  the  size 
of  the  original  bird,  this  quality  being  greatly 
admired  by  boys ;  the  Carrier,  on  account 
of  its  homely  head,  but  good  birds  to  raise 
ycung,  and  as  they  are  used  for  carrying 
messages  are  very  amusing  ;  but  the  Tumbler 
is  the  boys'  delight  as  he  usually  flies  high 
and  comes  tumbling  over  and  over  in  the  air 
down  to  his  cot.  The  Fantails  are  very  beau 
tiful,  having  many  of  the  characteristics  of 
the  peacock.  It  is  really  the  proudest  and 
prettiest  of  the  Pigeon  family.  The  Trumpeter 
is  an  old  and  very  nice  bird,  making  a  noise 
like  a  trumpet  as  he  brings  his  wings  to  the 
ground,  and  should  be  kept  by  every  one 
laying  claim  to  keeping  a  collection. 

Pigeon?  very  seldom  lav  more  than  two 
eggs,  and  rhe  period  of  incubation  is  eigh 
teen  days.  Both  tne  male  and  female  assist 
in  the  hatching  and  feeding  the  young. 
When  first  hatched  the  young  feed  for  about 
ten  days  from  a  food  disgorged  from  the  crop 
of  its  parents,  and  after  with  grain  carried 
in  the  crop  of  the  old  birds.  Pigeons  and 
Doves  differ  from  most  birds  in  their  mode 
of  feeding  their  young,  and  the  observation 
of  this  will  be  very  interesting  to  boys,  the 
young  thrusting  their  bill  into  the  open  bill 
of  the  old  Dove,  and  the  food  is  actually 
pumped  from  the  old  bird's  crop  iiito  the 
young  bird's. 

CHICKENS. 

These  are  also  the  boys'  delight  Like 
the  pigeon  fowl  have  all  descended  from  the 
one  source  or  specimen,  the  wild  Jungle  Fowl 
of  India,  a  great  number  of  varieties  of  them 
existing  in  the  domesticated  state,  amongst 


536 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


the  best  known  are  the  Spanish,  the 
Polish,  the  Brainas,  the  Cochins,  the  Hou- 
dans,  the  Game,  the  Bantams,  the  Malay,  the 
Sikey,  the  Hamburgs,  the  Dorkins,  and  too 
many  other  kinds  to  mentivn.  Chickens  re 
quire  grain,  vegetables,  meat,  water  and 
gravel,  when  in  confinement,  bnt  when  al- 
iowed  to  run  at  large  they  get  along  nicely 
when  given  some  grain  alone,  but  in  dry 
weather  they  should  have  a  good  supply  of 
clean  water  at  their  roosting-place. 

Boxes  should  be  placed  up  from  the  floor 
of  the  lien-house  and  straw  placed  in  them 
for  nests,  and  a  decoy  egg,  which  should  be 
made  of  opal  glass  or  china,  put  in  each 
nest,  and  the  hens  will  be  much  more  apt  to 
lay  in  them  than  elsewhere,  and  thereby  save 
you  the  trouble  of  going  under  the  house  or 
barn  to  hunt  for  eggs. 

Breeding1. 

When  a  hen  has  laid  from  fifteen  to  twen 
ty  eggs  she  will  usually  show  a  desire  to  set ; 
then  if  from  ten  to  fourteen  eggs  are  placed 
under  her,  which  should  be  from  different 
hens,  especially  if  it  is  summer-time,  so  as 
to  make  sure  of  their  being  fresh,  a  larger 
number  will  hatch  out,  and  in  three  weeks 
from  the  time  she  commences  to  set  the 
young  should  be  hatched  out,  and  lovely 
little  balls  of  down  they  will  be.  Crumbled 
bread  soaked  in  milk  and  hard-boiled  yolk 
of  egg  must  be  in  readiness  for  them  to  eat, 
for  in  a  few  hours  after  they  are  hatched 
the'<  will  begin  to  pick  for  themselves.  They 
rery  little  trouble  to  keep,  and  raise 
luemselves  if  kept  out  of  the  way  of  rats  ; 
the  old  hen  will  generally  keep  cats  and 
dogs  from  them. 

Bird  Seed. 

There  are  but  few  persons  who  consider 
how  much  their  birds'  health  depends  upon 
the  quality  of  the  seed  given  to  the  bird. 


They  think  because  it  is  bird-seed  it  must  be 
all  right.  What  would  you  think  of  a  house 
wife  that  would  go  and  bin-  a  barrel  of  poor, 
musty  flour  to  make  bread  for  her  children, 
because  it  was  got  nearer  home,  at  the  corner 
grocery,  or  it  cost  a  few  cents  less?  This 
holds  good  in  bird-seed,  only  to  a  greater  ex 
tent,  and  there  is  even  still  more  danger  if 
you  buy  the  seed  done  up  in  fancy  packages, 
which  is  generally  the  poorest  that  can  be  had 
in  the  market.  Go  to  any  bird  store  with  a 
regular  established  trade,  and  you  can  rely 
upon  getting  good  seed. 

GENERAL   DISEASES   OF  BIRDS  ANI> 

THE  PROPER   REMEDIES 

THEREFOR. 

Asthma. 

This  is  a  disease  that  all  birds  are  liable  to,. 
but  the  German  Canaries  more  so  than  any- 
other.  It  is  generally  caused  from  a  cold 
neglected,  and  sometimes  from  improper 
food.  Hemp  seed  should  not  be  given  to- 
the  German  Imported  Canaries,  except  when 
breeding,  and  then  fed  plenty  of  hard-boiled 
egg  witTi  their  other  food,  they  will  be  better- 
without  it.  When  the  bird  is  attacked  with 
this  disease  he  must  be  kept  on  low  diet, 
such  as  cracker  soaked  in  milk. 

Rape  and  maw  seed,  also  a  little  lettucer 
will  be  good  for  him ;  a  little  bird  tonic  in 
his  drinking  water,  and  hang  a  piece  of  fat 
pork  well  rubbed  into  pure  red  pepper  in  the 
cage  for  him  to  bite  on  when  he  desires. 
When  taken  in  time  it  can  be  cured,  but 
when  once  a  bird  has  had  it  he  will  be  very 
liable  to  get  it  again. 

Want  of  Appetite. 

When  this  occurs  give  your  bird  a  small 
piece  of  garden  sod,  so  that  he  can  pick  the 
earth  and  grass  both,  and  any  other  delicacy 
that  can  be  thought  of,  even  if  it  be  a  little 
sweet  cake. 


CARK  OF  BIRDS  AND  OTHKR  PETS. 


537 


The  Oil  Gland. 

This  is  a  small  round  lump  on  the  back 
of  the  bird,  and  above  the  tail,  and  its  use  is 
to  supply  the  bird  with  the  oil  necessary  to 
plume  its  feathers.  When  this  becomes  ob 
structed,  as  it  will  sometimes,  it  gets  gorged 
with  oil,  and  causes  the  bird  much  suffering. 
The  bird  will  appear  to  be  puffed  and  un 
easy,  and  every  once  in  a  while  be  seen  pick 
ing  at  it.  Take  the  bird  gently  but  firmly 
and  pass  the  point  of  a  fine  needle  into  it  in 
two  or  three  places,  and  annoint  it  with  a 
little  butter  to  prevent  the  perforations  from 
scabbing  over,  and  the  bird  will  do  the  rest 

itself. 

Moulting:. 

This  is  an  annual  occurrence  with  birds, 
and  if  the  feathers  come  off  freely  aR  that  is 
required  is  to  keep  the  bird  warm  and  out  of 
drafts,  which  may  be  easily  done,  as  the  usual 
time  for  birds  to  moult  is  August  and  Sep 
tember.  It  is  good  to  give  your  bird  an  ex 
tra  quantity  of  nourishing  food  at  this  period, 
as  the  new  feathers  which  take  the  place  of 
the  old  ones  cause  a  great  strain  on  the  sys 
tem  of  the  bird.  When  the  bird  does  not 
cast  its  feathers  freely,  a  small  quantity  of 
saffron  put  into  the  drinking  water,  will 
generally  afford  relief.  Keep  the  bird  warm, 
covering  the  cage  at  night,  and  hang  it  in 
the  sun  in  day,  watch  for  diarrhoea  at  this 
time  as  it  is  very  liable  to  occur. 
Dysentery. 

This  is  often  a  fatal  disease  with  all  birds. 
The  bird  affected  with  it  voids  a  white  milky 
matter,  which  causes  a  great  deal  of  pain  and 
inflammation  of  the  intestines,  but  is  gener 
ally  easily  cured,  if  it  is  attended  to  in  its 
early  stages,  but  if  allowed  to  run  for  twenty- 
four  hours  the  case  is  generally  hopeless.  As 
soon  as  detected,  which  may  easily  be  done, 
for  the  bird  will  generally  show  a  disposition 
to  sit  still  with  its  head  resting  on  its  wing, 


this  is  a  notification  that  your  bird  feels 
bad.  Look  in  the  bottom  of  the  cage,  if 
the  droppings  of  the  bird  are  white  and 
thin  like  chalk  and  water,  he  has  the 
diarrhoea. 

Now  put  some  red  pepper  into  his  food,  a 
piece  of  very  rusty  iron  into  his  water,  and 
cover  the  cage  up.  Set  it  in  a  warm  place. 
If  the  droppings  are  not  thicker  in  about 
four  hours,  add  eight  or  ten  drops  of  brandy, 
which  has  laid  on  blackberries  for  some  time 
and  do  not  remove  the  iron.  Cover  again 
as  before.  If  seed-eating  birds,  remove  any 
hemp-seed  that  may  be  in  the  cage  and  give 
a  little  maw-seed  in  its  place  with  other  seed. 
If  soft-feed  bird,  give  more  pure  mocking 
bird  food  and  less  vegetable  matter,  and 
during  the  attack  no  vegetable  or  fruit 
should  be  given  to  any  bird. 
Broken  Limbs. 

When  this  misfortune  is  met  with  the 
limb  must  be  put  into  the  natural  position 
as  nearly  as  possible,  and  then  secured  by 
splints,  or  otherwise  placed  in  a  low  cage 
without  perches,  with  straw  on  the  bottom, 
to  keep  the  plumage  of  the  bird  from  getting 
soiled ;  food  and  water  placed  in  convenient 
reach  of  it,  and  the  cage  covered  up  and  put 
in  a  quiet  place,  it  will  usually  be  as  well  as 
ever  in  a  week  or  ten  days. 

Constipation. 

This  is  of  common  occurrence  with  seed- 
eating  birds.  The  remedies  are  vegetable 
matter,  such  as  lettuce,  grass,  etc.,  and  in 
urgent  cases  a  few  drops  of  castor  oil  should 
be  given,  which  may  readily  be  done  by 
holding  the  bird  in  the  left  hand,  and  with 
a  stick  brought  to  a  point  the  oil  can  be 
run  down  its  throat.  Be  careful  not  to  get 
it  on  the  bird's  plumage,  and  a  dose  is  from 
three  to  eight  drops,  according  to  the  size 
of  the  bird. 


538 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


Egg-  Bound 

is  a  frequent  occurrence  with  young  birds, 
and  they  will  brood  upon  an  empty  nest. 
The  remedy  is  to  annoint  the  vent  of  the 
bird  with  a  little  sweet  oil,  and  to  administer 
a  dose  of  castor  oil  through  the  bill.  Handle 
gently,  for  if  you  break  the  egg  it  will  likely 
be  the  end  of  all. 

Sneezing. 
aally  caused  by  cold,  and  may  be  re- 


FISH   GLOBES. 

lieved  by  passing  a  small  straw  through  the 
nostrils  of  the  bird.  Keep  the  bird  out  of 
drafts  and  keep  it  warm. 

Hiiskiness  and  L,oss  of  Voice. 
Usually  caused  from  cold.  Never  purchase 
a  husky  bird,  but  when  he  gets  so  you  will 
have  to  do  the  best  you  can  for  him,  his  voice 
is  often  restored  ;  but  if  he  lives  long  he  is 
almost  sure  to  lose  it  again.  Keep  the  bird 


in  a  warm  place,  give  it,  if  a  seed-eating  biro., 
flaxseed  and  ripe  plantain,  crackers  and  milk 
with  a  little  red  pepper  on  it,  and  sweet  cake 
with  a  little  sherry  wine  on  it,  and  a  piece  oi 
fat  pork  smoked  and  rubbed  well  in  red 
pepper,  should  be  hung  in  the  cage,  and  a 
few  drops  of  good  tonic  should  be  put  into 
the  drinking  water. 

Long-  Claws  and  *5eak. 

Though  not  diseases,  they  will  oring  them 
on,  when  the  beak  is  too  long.  It  prevents 
the  bird  from  getting  its  food.  When  the 
claws  are  too  long  it  prevents  the  bird, 
through  fear  of  hanging,  from  getting  on  or 
off  its  perches.  This  is  easily  remedied,  all 
that  is  required  is  to  hold  the  bird  firmly  and 
place  its  foot  on  a  block  ;  with  a  sharp  knife 
cut  off  the  surplus  growth  of  the  nail,  being 
careful  not  to  cut  into  the  quick,  which  runs 
about  one-fourth  of  an  inch  into  the  nail 
from  the  toe.  The  surplus  beak  may  be  re 
moved  in  the  same  way. 

The  Scab 

cometimes  makes  its  appearance  about  the 
head  and  eyes  of  a  bird,  and  often  there  is  a 
small  ulcer.  When  so,  it  should  be  removed 

"with  a  sharp  knife  and  the  place  anointed 
with   fresh  butter   or  sweet   oil,  and    fresh 

^nourishing  food,  including  fruit  and  veget- 

*  ables  should  be  given. 

Fits  or  Epilepsy 

or  fits  ofdizziness.  Birds  attacked  with  this 
fall  from  their  perches  and  struggle.  The 
best  remedy  is  to  souse  them  into  a  bucket 
of  cold  water  quickly  and  place  the  bird 
gently  down.  He  will  most  probably  soon 
recover.  When  he  does  put  him  where  he 
will  get  perfectly  dry,  and  put  a  little  sherry 
wine  and  spirts  of  nitre  in  his  drinking 
water  to  prevent  its  return,  and,  in  addition, 
give  it  more  nourishing  food.  Soon  he  will 
appear  like  a  new  bird. 


CARE  OF 


AND  OTHER  PETS. 


531* 


Cancer. 

Sometimes  this  makes  itself  felt  to  tlie 
grief  of  the  canary  breeder,  as  it  is  conta 
gious,  and  before  it  is  known  what  is  the 
matter  several  birds  are  affected 
with  it.  It  is  best  to  destroy  a 
bird  so  affected.  A  cure  is 
sometimes  effected  by  bathing 
the  parts  frequently  with  warm 
water  and  milk,  and  anointing 
with  olive  oil  or  butter. 

Vermin 

sometimes  come   to   birds,  but 
may   be  easily  destroyed,  if  of 
the  body  kind,  by  anointing  th 
bird  under  the  wings  with  lard, 
and  placing  a  clean  cloth  over 
the  cage  at  night  for  a  week  or 
ten  days.     But  the  red    mites 
are  the  plague  of  all  bird-fan 
ciers,  their    habits    being    the 
same  as  the  house  or  bedbug, 
which  trouble  all  dirty  house 
keepers.    They  live  in  the  crev 
ices  of  the  cage,  and  come  out 
only  at  night  to  feed  and  an 
noy  the   bird.     They  breed  so 
fast  that  the  supply  continually 
increases  as  long  as  their  food 
lasts,  and  their  food  is  the  blood 
of  the  bird ;  the  only  true  rem 
edy  is  to  detach  the  perch  that 
the  bird  sleeps  on  from  the  rest 
of  the  cage.     As  this  cannot  be 
done  we   have  now  to  do  the 
next  best  thing,  and  that  is  to 
obstruct  the  passage  from  the 
cage  to  the  bird  by  the  use  of 
insecticide.    This  may  easily  be 
done  by  putting  a  piece  of  felt 
or  cloth  secured  to  the  ends  of  the  perches 
by  wrapping  with  wire  and  saturating  it  with 
lard  and  kerosene  oil  twice  a  week. 


THE  PERC1I. 

The  suspended  bird  perch,  whicK  can  be 
bought  at  bird  stores,  is  a  great  ornament  to 
a  cage ;  it  is  really  a  set  of  perches  or  eight 


AQUARIUM. 

small  arms  secured  to  a  centre  spindle,  and 
hung  by  a  spring  from  the  hook  that  the 
swing  is  usually  secured  to.  In  the  centre  of 


540 


MANUAL  OF  PRACTICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


the  coiled  spring  is  a  piece  of  felt  which, 
when  saturated  with  kerosene  oil,  forms  a 
sure  barrier  against  their  getting  to  the  bird, 
so  the  bird  getting  rested  at  night  is  in  better 
condition  and  spirits  and  more  in  the  humor 
for  singing  next  day. 

GRAVEL 

must  be  given  to  all  birds,  and  if  it  is  spread 
freely  upon  the  bottom  of  the  cage  so  much 

the  better. 

WATER. 

Above  everything  do  not  give  the  bird 
stale  water  to  drink  unless  you  desire  it  to 
die ;  and  if  that  is  your  desire  you  had  best 
kill  it,  to  save  it  the  suffering  it  will  have  to 
endure  by  being  compelled  to  use  impure  or 
rotten  water. 

AQUARIA. 

Gold  and  Silver  fish  have  been  known  in 
this  country  since  the  days  of  Washington. 
They  abound  in  the  fresh,  clear  waters  of 
China,  and  are  now  quite  common  in  cur 
artificial  ponds,  lakes  in  parks,  etc. ;  and  who 
has  not  seen  them  in  glass  globes  and  tanks 
in  the  dining-room  and  parlors  of  the  most 
refined  and  better  class  of  citizens,  the  man 
agement  and  care  being  so  little  that  it  is  a 
surprise  that  a  fish  globe  is  not  to  be  found 
in  every  house  in  the  land.  The  most  indo 
lent  lady  can  attend  to  a  fish  globe  with 
pleasure. 

Globes  for  fish  are  best  set  on  a  stand,  and 
can  be  placed  on  the  table,  mantel  or  bracket. 
Chains  are  very  often  used,  but  should  not 
be.  Fish  should  be  kept  in  a  cool  place,  and 
the  sun  never  allowed  to  shine  on  a  globe 
containing  fish  or  on  a  tank  except  in  winter 
time,  and  then  not  on  all  the  tank  and  only 
for  a  short  time.  Globes  should  not  be  more 
than  three-fourths  filled  with  water.  The 
water  should  be  partially  changed  twice  a 
week,  and  before  filling  the  globe  cover  the 
bottom  of  it  with  clean  gravel. 


FOOD. 

Fish  do  not  require  much  fooa,  but  food 
they  must  have.  There  is  a  prepared  food 
kept  at  all  aquaria  goods  stores,  which  is  gen 
erally  good,  but  fish  will  do  well  on  a  little 
sweet  cracker  or  bread  crumbled  into  the 
water,  but  it  must  be  given  in  small  quanti 
ties,  for  if  not  eaten  it  sours  in  the  water, 
and  is  injurious  to  the  fish.  Earth  worms 
are  the  very  best  of  food,  and  can  be  kept  ai 
winter  if  put  into  a  box  of  moist  earth, 
which  must  be  kept  moist  and  out  of  the  way 
of  frost.  The  worms  should  be  cut  into 
small  pieces  before  being  given  to  the  fish. 

More  amusement  can  be  had  from  the  in 
vestment  of  two  or  three  dollars  in  a  globe 
and  fish  than  in  a  hundred  dollars  in  theatre 
tickets,  and  it  will  be  an  interesting  orna 
ment  to  any  room,  whether  poorly  or  ele 
gantly  furnished.  The  gold,  silver  and  pearl 
fish  are  certainly  gems,  and  there  are  hun 
dreds  of  others  that  you  can  choose  at  any 
aquaria  goods  store,  and  if  the  reader  be  a  man 
or  lad,  there  are  many  beautiful  fish  in  our 
own  creeks  that,  with  a  small  net,  can  be  had 
for  the  catching  of  them.  Diseases  of  fish 
are  not  many,  but  if  you  have  many  fish  in 
one  tank,  and  you  see  one  sick,  which  can 
be  easily  told  by  the  dull  appearance  of  the 
fish  and  his  coming  to  the  top  of  the  water 
to  get  air,  remove  it  from  the  tank  and  place 
it  in  a  large  dish  or  small  tank,  and  if  it 
does  not  get  better  in  a  day  or  two  it  is  best 
to  destroy  it,  as  it  will  not  be  worth  the 
trouble  of  trying  to  cure. 

RABBITS. 

This  is  another  favorite  with  the  boys,  and 
the  common  Rabbit  is  the  one  most  often  met 
with,  but  the  Rabbit  is  not  by  any  means 
neglected.  There  are  many  kinds  of  fancy 
Rabbits,  viz. :  The  Perfect  lop-eared,  the  Oar 
lop-eared,  the  Horn  Rabbit,  the  Angora 


CARE  OF  BIRDS  AND  OTHER  PETS. 


54i 


Rabbit,  and  the  Maltese  Rabbit,  all  of  which 
are  very  odd- looking,  but  none  as  handsome 
as  the  pure  white  with  pink  eyes.  Rabbits 
are  very  prolific,  usually  having  eight  or  ten 
young  four  times  a  year ;  they  are  amusing 
and  profitable  pets,  as  the  young  may  readily 
be  sold,  are  easily  kept,  living  upon  grass, 
iiay,  vegetables,  fruit,  such  as  apple  parrings, 
scraps  of  bread,  or  any  vegetable  matter  that 
is  not  decayed.  The  young  should  not  be 
taken  from  their  parents  until  they  are  six 

weeks  old. 

DOGS. 

There  being  so  many  different  kinds  of 
these  kind,  affectionate  and  serviceable  ani 
mals,  a  general  description  of  them  cannot 
be  given.  A  puppy  under  six  months  old 
should  never  have  meat  given  to  it,  and 
until  a  year  old  no  raw  meat  should  be  given. 
Young  puppies,  bread  and  milk  alone,  (which 
would  be  go'xi  food  for  some  puppies  in  hu 
man  form),  when  older,  bread  and  milk  varied 
with  soup  and  bread,  and  then  some  cooked 
meat,  and  they  must  have  a  good  warm  bed 
in  a  dry  place.  When  so  fed  and  kept  they 
can  be  generally  raised  without  having  the 
distemper  or  other  sickness. 

WHITE  MICE. 

Another  children's  pet,  which  are  very 
pretty,  with  their  lovely  pink  eyes.  They 
can  be  trained  to  do  many  amusing  tricks, 
and  are  very  tame  and  hardy ;  will  live  upon 
anything  a  person  can,  but  corn-meal  is  their 
favorite.  They  are  very  prolific,  having 
*young  from  four  to  six  times  a  year,  and 
trom  five  to  twelve  each  time. 


WHITE  BATS 

come  to  us  from  China,  and  are  very  similar 
to  white  mice.  When  kept  clean  they  rnake 
very  nice  pets.  Can  be  fed  on  most  any 
refuse  from  the  table,  but  in  addition  must1 
have  fresh  meat  twice  a  week.  They  are 
even  more  prolific  than  the  mice,  having 
usually  from  eight  to  fourteen  at  a  litter. 
The  young  are  very  pretty  after  they  are  two 
weeks  old;  before  that  time  they  have  no 
hair  on  their  bodies,  the  head  being  as  large 
as  the  rest  of  the  body,  eyes  not  open. 

CATS  AND  MONKEYS 
are  pets  for  the  ladies,  and  as  there  is  such  a 
variety  of  them,  and  so  few  of  the  latter 
kept,  a  description  in  a  work  of  this  kind 
would  be  superfluous.  If  you  want  a  Monkey 
go  to  a  store  of  a  naturalist  and  make  your 
selection.  If  he  has  not  got  the  kind  you 
want  he  can  show  you  the  pictures  and  de 
scription  of  so  many  that  it  will  not  be  any 
easier  for  you  to  make  your  selection  than 
than  to  buy  a  calico  dress  when  the  obliging 
dry-goods  clerk  has  shown  you  over  one 
hundred  pieces,  but  after  you  have  made  up 
your  mind  and  give  the  order  for  him  to  get 
you  one,  do  not  go  back  the  next  day  to  try 
to  obtain  another  kind  that  you  think  you 
might  like  better,  for  if  he  is  a  prompt  and 
reliable  man  he  will  have  already  sent  his 
order  off,  and  even  if  you  do  not  hear  him, 
he  is  very  apt  to  swear  at  the  fickle-minded- 
ness  of  some  people. 

Most  ladies  would  call  them  ugly,  but 
mice  and  rabbits  are  born  without  hair  on 
their  skin,  so  why  make  all  this  fuss  about 
Rats? 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 


Encyclopedia  of  Valuable  Information. 


ONEY  is  first  mentioned  as  a  medium  of 
commerce  in  the  twenty-third  chapter  of 
Genesis,  when  Abraham  purchased  a  field 
as  a  sepulcher  for  Sarah,  in  the  year  of  the 
world  2139;  first  made  at  Argos,  894  before  Christ. 
Silver  has  increased  30  times  its  value  since  the  Nor 
man  conquest,  viz.  :  a  pound  in  that  age  was  three 
times  the  quantity  what  it  is  at  present,  and  ten  times 
its  value  in  purchasing  any  commodity  ;  first  coined 
in  the  United  States,  1652;  first  paper  Money,  1690. 

Foundations  of  Fortunes. 

Senator  Farwell  began  1  ife  as  a  surveyoi 

Cornelius  Vanderbilt  began  life  as  a  farmer. 

Wanamaker's  first  salary  was  $1.25  a  week. 

A.  T.  Stewart  made  his  start  as  a  school-teacher. 

Jim  Keene  drove  a  milk-wagon  in  a  California  town. 

Cyrus  Field  began  life  as  a  clerk  in  a  New  England 
store. 

Pulitzer  oncv  acted  as  stoker  on  a  Mississippi 
steamboat. 

Moses  Taylor  clerked  in  Water  street,  New  York,  at 
$2  a  week. 

Geo  W.  Childs  was  an  errand  boy  for  a  bookseller 
at  $4  a  month. 

P.  T.  Barnum  earned  a  salary  as  bartender  in  Niblo's 
Theatre,  New  York. 

Jay  Gould  canvassed  Delaware  County,  New  York, 
selling  maps  at  $1.50  apiece. 

Andrew  Carnegie  did  his  first  work  in  a  Pittsburgh 
telegraph  office  at  $3  a  week. 

Whitelaw  Reid  did  work  as  correspondent  of  a  Cin 
cinnati  newspaper  for  $5  a  week. 

Adam  Forepaugh  was  a  butcher  in  Philadelphia 
when  he  decided  to  go  into  the  show  business. 

Senator  Brown  made  his  first  money  by  plowing  his 
neighbor's  fields  with  a  pair  of  bull  calves. 

A  Business  Lesson. 

Peter  Cooper  was  one  of  the  most  successful,  care 
ful,  and  prudent  business  men  of  his  time.  He  was 
strongly  opposed  to  the  methods  of  many  merchants 
who  launched  out  into  extravagant  enterprises  on 
borrowed  money,  for  which  they  paid  exorbitant  rate 
of  interest.  The  following  anecdote  illustrates  this 
point  very  forcibly : 

Once,  while  talking  about  a  project  with  an  acquaint 
ance,  the  latter  said  he  would  have  to  borrow  the 

542 


money  for  six  months,  paying  interest  at  the  rate  or  j. 
per  cent,  per  month. 

"Why  do  you  borrow  for  so  short  a  time?"  Mr* 
Cooper  asked. 

"Because  the  brokers  will  not  negotiate  bills  for 
longer." 

"  Well,  if  you  wish,"  said  Mr.  Cooper,  "  I  'vill  di» 
count  your  note  at  that  rate  for  three  years." 

"Are  you  in  earnest?"  asked  the  would-be  bor 
rower. 

"  Certainly,  I  am.  I  will  discount  your  note  foi 
$10,000  for  three  years  at  that  rate.  Will  you  do  it?  " 

"  Of  course  I  will,"  said  the  merchant. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Cooper  ;  "just  sign  this  note 
for  $10,000  payable  in  three  years,  and  give  your  check 
for  $800,  and  the  transaction  will  be  complete." 

"  But  where  is  the  money  for  me  ?  "  asked  the  aston 
ished  merchant. 

"  You  don't  get  any  money,"  was  the  reply.  "  Your 
interest  for  thirty-six  months  at  three  per  centum  pe* 
month  amounts  to  108  per  centum,  or  $  10,800  ,  there 
fore  your  check  for  $800  just  makes  us  even." 

The  force  of  this  practical  illustration  of  the  folly  of 
paying  such  an  exorbitant  price  for  the  use  of  money 
was  such  that  the  merchant  determined  nevei  to  bor 
row  at  such  ruinous  rates,  and  he  frequently  used  to 
say  that  nothing  could  have  so  fully  convinced  him  ag 
this  rather  humorous  proposal  by  Mr.  Cooper. 
Avoid  Debt. 

Every  man  who  would  get  on  in  the  world  should, 
as  far  as  possible,  avoid  debt.  From  the  very  outset 
of  his  career  he  should  resolve  to  live  within 
his  income,  however  paltry  it  may  be.  The  art 
of  living  easily  as  to  money  is  very  simple — pitch, 
your  scale  of  living  one  degree  below  your  means. 
All  the  world's  wisdom  on  the  subject  is  most  tersely 
epitomized  in  the  words  of  Dicken's  Micawber: 
''Annual  income,  twenty  pounds;  annual  expendi 
ture,  nineteen  six  ;  result,  happiness.  Annual  incomCi 
twenty  pounds;  annual  expenditure,  twenty  pounds 
naught  and  six  ;  result,  misery."  Many  a  IT j an  dates 
his  downfall  from  the  day  when  he  began  borrowing 
mcney.  Avoid  the  first  obligation,  for,  that  incurred, 
others  follow,  one  necessitating  the  other ;  every  day 
the  victim  will  get  more  entangled  ;  then  follow  pre 
texts,  excuses,  lies,  till  all  sense  of  shame  is  lost,, 
the  whole  life  becomes  a  makeshift,  and  the  debtoi 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


543 


in  despair  finally  resolves  to  live  by  indirect  robbery 
and  falsehood. 

Getting-  Rich  by  Small  Inventions. 

The  New  Jersey  man  who  hit  upon  the  idea  of  attach 
ing  a  rubber  erasing  tip  to  the  end  of  the  lead  pencil  is 
worth  $200,000. 

The  miner  who  invented  a  metal  rivet  or  eyelet  at 
each  end  of  the  mouth  of  coat  and  trowsers  pockets, 
to  icsist  the  strain  caused  by  the  carriage  of  pieces  of 
Ore  and  heavy  tools,  has  made  more  money  from  his 
tetters  patent  than  he  would  have  made  had  he  struck 
a  good  vein  of  gold-bearing  quartz. 

Bvery  one  has  seen  the  metal  plates  that  are  used  to 
protect  the  heels  and  soles  of  rough  shoes,  but  every 
one  doesn  't  know  that  within  ten  years  the  man  who 
hit  tipon  the  idea  has  made  1250,000. 

As  large  a  sum  as  was  ever  obtained  for  any  inven 
tion  was  enjoyed  by  the  Yankee  who  invented  the 
invented  glass  bell  to  hang  over  gas-jets  to  protect 
ceilings  from  being  blackened  by  smoke. 

The  inventor  of  the  roller  skate  has  made  $1,000,000, 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  his  patent  had  nearly  ex 
pired  before  the  value  of  it  was  ascertained  in  the  craze 
for  roller  skating  that  spread  over  the  country  a  few 
years  ago. 

The  gimlet-pointed  screw  has  produced  more  wealth 
than  most  silver  mines,  and  the  Connecticut  man  who 
first  thought  of  putting  copper  tips  on  the  toes  of 
children's  shoes  is  as  well  off  as  if  he  had  inherited 
$1,000,000,  for  that's  the  amount  his  idea  has  realized 
•for  htm. 

The  common  needle  threader  which  every  one  has 
seen  for  sale,  and  which  every  woman  owns,  was  a  boon 
to  needle  users.  The  man  who  invented  it  has  an 
income  of  $10,000  a  year  from  his  invention. 

A  minister  in  England  made  $50,000  by  inventing  an 
odd  toy  that  danced  by  winding  it  with  a  string. 

The  man  who  invented  the  return  ball,  an  ordinary 
wooden  ball  with  a  rubber  string  attached  to  pull  it 
back,  made  $1,000,000  from  it. 

Results  of  Saving-  Small  Amounts  of  Money. 

The  following  shows  how  easy  it  is  to  accumulate  a 
fortune,  provided  proper  steps  are  taken.  The  table 
shows  what  would  be  the  result  at  the  end  of  fifty 
years  by  saving  a  certain  amount  each  day  and  putting 
it  at  interest  at  the  rate  of  six  per  cent.: 


Daily  Savings.  The  result. 

One  cent $     950 

Ten  cents 9*504 

Twenty  cents 19,006 

Thirty  cents 28,512 

Forty  cents 38,015 

Fifty  cents 47,520 


Daily  Savings.  The  result. 

Sixty  cents $57,024 

Seventy  cents 66,528 

Eighty  cents 76,032 

Ninety  cents 85,537 

One  dollar 95,041 

Five  dollars 475,208 


ciple  of  small  savings  has  been  lost  sight  of  in  th* 
general  desire  to  become  wealthy. 

What  a  Dollar  Saved  Each  Day  Will  Earn. 

One  dollar  per  day  saved  in  the  cost  of  fuel  amounts, 
with  interest,  on  basis  of  312  working  days  in  a  yeat 
to  following  : 

Six          Eight 
Per  Cent.  Per  Cent. 
$330  72      $336  96 

1,864  20 

4,359  14 
7,697  82 


Four 
Per  Cent 

One  Year $32448 

Five  Years 1,757  5° 

Tea  Years 

Fifteen  Years. 


Ten, 


3»895  76 
6,479  24 


1,97680 
4,881  40 
9,149  18 
I5,4i9  94 


$343  ?o 
2,095  26 
5-469  75 
10,904  $c 
19,656  ?S 


Nearly  every  person  wastes  enough  in  twenty  or 
thirty  years,  which,  if  saved  and  carefully  invested, 
would  make  a  family  quite  independent ;  but  the  priu- 


Twenty  Years..  9,662  39   12,165  72 

Value  of  Metals. 

Fully  ninety-nine  persons  in  every  hundred,  if  asked 
to  name  the  most  precious  metals,  would  mention 
gold  as  first,  platinum  as  second,  silver  as  third.  If 
asked  to  name  others  a  few  might  add  nickel,  and  a 
very  few  aluminum  to  the  list. 

Let  us  see  how  near  the  truth  they  would  be.  Gold 
is  worth  about  $240  per  pound,  troy  ;  platinum  $130, 
and  silver  about  $12.  Nickel  would  be  quoted  atabout 
60  cents  and  pure  aluminum  $8  to  $9  to  the  troy  pound. 

We  will  now  compare  these  prices  with  those  of  the 
rarer  and  less  well  known  of  the  metals.  To  take  them 
in  alphabetical  order,  barium  sells  for  $975  a  pound, 
when  it  is  sold  at  all,  and  calcium  is  worth  $1,800  a 
pound,  while  cerium  is  a  shade  higher — its  cost  is  $160 
an  ounce,  or  $1,920  a  pound.  Chromium  brings  $200 ; 
cobalt  falls  to  about  half  the  price  of  silver,  while 
didymium  is  the  same  price  as  cerium,  and  •cerium  $10 
cheaper  on  the  ounce  than  calcium,  or  just  $1,680  per 
pound. 

If  the  wealth  of  the  Vanderbilts  be  not  overestimat 
ed,  it  amounts  to  nearly  $200,000,000.  With  this  sum 
they  could  purchase  312  tons  of  gold  and  have  some 
thing  left  over,  but  they  couldn't  buy  two  tons  of  gal 
lium,  that  rare  metal  being  worth  $4,250  an  ounce. 
With  this  metal  the  highest  price  is  reached,  and  it 
may  well  be  called  the  rarest  and  most  precious  of 
metals. 

Glucinum  is  worth  $250  per  ounce  ;  indium,  $158; 
irinium,  $658  per  pound  ;  lanthanium,  $175,  and  lin- 
thium,  $160  per  ounce.  Niobium  costs$i28perounce; 
asmium,  paladium,  platinum,  potassium  and  rhodium 
bring  respectively,  $640,  $400,  $39,  $32  and  $512  pet 
pound.  Strontium  costs  $128  an  ounce ;  tantium, 
$144 ;  tellurium,  $9  ;  athorium,  $272  ;  vanadium,  $320; 
vitrium,  $144,  and  ziconium,  $250  an  ounce. 

Barium  is  more  than  four  times  as  valuable  as  gold, 
and  gallium  more  than  162  times  as  costly,  while  many 
of  the  metals  are  twice  and  thrice  as  valuable. 

Aluminum,  which  now  costs  $8  to  $9  a  pound,  will 
eventually  be  produced  as  cheap  as  steel.  When  thte 
can  be  done  it  will  push  the  latter  metal  out  of  a 


544 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


many  of  its  present  uses,  as  it  possesses  great  strength, 
toughness  and  elasticity,  with  extreme  lightness  of 
weight.  Its  sources  of  supply  are  inexhaustible,  and 
its  present  high  cost  arises  from  the  difficulty  of  its 
•extraction  in  a  metallic  form. 

Iridium  seems  to  be  chiefly  used  for  pointing  gold 
pens,  and  many  of  the  metals  mentioned  have  but  a 
•united  sphere  of  usefulness. 

Value  of  a  Bar  of  Iron  for  Various 
Purposes. 

A  bar  of  iron  worth  five  dollars,  worked  inio  horse 
shoes,  is  worth  ten  dollars  and  fifty  cents  ;  made  into 
needles,  it  is  worth  three  hundred  and  fifty-five  dollars ; 
made  into  penknife-blades,  it  is  worth  three  thousand 
two  hundred  and  eighty-five  dollars  ;  made  into  bal- 
auce-springs  of  watches,  it  is  worth  two  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars. 

Great  Mines. 

The  most  extensive  mines  in  the  world  are  those  of 
Freyburg,  Saxony.  They  were  begun  in  the  twelfth 
century,  and  in  1835  the  galleries,  taken  collectively, 
=aad  reached  the  unprecedented  length  of  123  miles.  A 
new  gallery,  begun  in  1838,  had  reached  a  length  of 
"eight  miles  at  the  time  of  the  census  of  1878. 

The  deepest  perpendicular  mining  shaft  in  the  world 
|S  located  at  Prizilram,  Bohemia.  It  is  a  lead  mine  ;  it 
was  begun  in  1832.  In  January,  1880,  it  was  3,280  feet 
deep. 

The  deepest  coal  mine  in  the  world  is  near  Tourney, 
Belgium ;  it  is  3,542  feet  in  depth,  but,  unlike  the  lead 
-mine  mentioned  above,  it  is  not  perpendicular. 

The  deepest  rock  salt  bore  in  the  world  is  near  Ber 
lin,  Prussia ;  it  is  4,185  feet  deep. 

The  deepest  hole  ever  bored  into  the  earth  is  the  ar 
tesian  well  at  Pottsdam,  which  is  5,500  feet  deep. 

The  deepest  coal  mines  in  England  are  the  Dunkirk 
collieries  of  Lancashire,  which  are  2,824  feet  in  depth. 

Mining  in  the  United  States. 

The  last  Census  report  shows  that  the  total  value  of 
the  mineral  products  of  the  United  States  amounted  to 
1556,988,450,  the  greatest  total  ever  reported  for  any 
country.  It  far  outstrips  the  product  of  Great  Britain. 
The  total  number  of  industi  ial  mining  establishments 
is  given  at  30,000.  The  number  of  persons  who  find 
employment  in  mining  industry  is  512,114.  The 
annual  wages  paid  them  aggregated  $212,409,809.  The 
capital  employed  in  actual  mining  operations  amounts 
+.0  $1,173,000,000. 

Greatest  On  Earth. 

A  block  of  coal  exhibited  at  the  Iowa  State  Fair  is 
thought  to  be  the  largest  ever  mined ;  it  weighed 
J,ooo  pounds. 

Queen  Victoria  has  ';he  largest  bound   book   ever 


made.  It  is  eighteen  inches  thick  and  weighs  sixty- 
three  pounds.  It  contains  the  jubilee  addresses  ot 
congratulation. 

The  largest  coal  breaker  in  the  world  is  in  operation 
at  Edwardsville  colliery,  Luzerne  County,  Pennsyl 
vania.  It  prepares  for  market  4,000  mine  cars  of  coal 
eveiy  ten  hours. 

A  single  sheet  of  paper  6  feet  wide  and  7^  miles  in 
length  has  been  made  at  the  Watertown,  N.  Y.,  papei 
works.  It  weighed  2,207  pounds,  and  was  made  and 
rolled  entire  without  a  single  break. 

The  greatest  elevation  ever  attained  by  balloonists 
was  37,000  feet — about  seven  miles.  The  aeronauts 
were  James  Glaisher,  F.  R.  S.,  and  Mr.  Coxwell. 
The  ascent  was  made  September  5,  1862,  at  Wolver 
hampton,  England. 

The  longest  single  span  of  wire  in  the  world  is  used 
for  a  telegraph  in  India.  It  is  stretched  over  the  River 
Kistuah,  between  Bezorah  and  Sectauagrum.  It  is 
over  6,000  feet  long,  and  is  stretched  from  the  top  of 
one  mountain  to  the  top  of  another,  each  mountain 
being  nearly  2,000  feet  high. 

The  two  largest  castings  in  the  world  are  in  Japan, 
one  at  Nara  and  the  other  at  Kamakura.  Both  are 
statues.  The  one  at  Nara  is  53  feet  and  9  inches  from 
the  base  to  the  crown  of  the  head.  It  was  first  cast  in 
the  eighth  century,  but  was  afterward  destroyed  and 
recast  in  year  1223.  The  Kamakura  statue  is  47  feet 
high. 

The  Sydney  (Australia)  lighthouse  is  provided  with 
the  largest  electric  light  in  the  world.  It  has  a  power 
of  180,000  candles  and  may  be  seen  from  ships  fifty 
miles  at  sea.  The  next  largest  is  in  the  Palais 
d'Industrie  and  has  a  power  of  150,000  candles.  Sao 
Jose,  California,  has  the  most  powerful  electric  light  in 
the  United  States,  one  of  24,000  candle  power. 

The  stone  pavement  in  front  of  the  residence  of  the 
late  William  H.  Vanderbilt,  in  New  York  city,  is  made 
up  of  the  largest  slabs  of  flagging  stone  ever  put  in  a 
single  pavement.  The  stones  were  taken  from  quar 
ries  in  Pike  County,  Pennsylvania,  west  of  Port  Jervis, 
N.  Y.,  and  from  the  Bigelow  quarries  in  Ulster  County, 
N.  Y.  The  large  slab  immediately  in  front  of  the 
residence  is  the  largest  slab  of  its  kind  ever  transported 
from  any  quarry  and  cost  the  millionaire  $9,200  ;  the 
entire  cost  of  the  pavement  was  $47,000. 

Wilson  Waddingham  who  in  1887  purchased  163,000 
acres  of  land  in  San  Miguel  Count)',  New  Mexico,  id 
the  greatest  individual  land  proprietor  in  the  world 
His  present  landed  interests  amount  to  1,500,000  acres, 
about  500,000  acres  more  than  are  claimed  for  the- 
Duke  of  Westminster.  A  year  ago  the  largest  produc 
ing  farm  in  the  world  was  one  of  the  same  number  of 
acres  (1,500,000)  situated  in  the  southwest  corner  ol 
Louisiana.  This  immense  farm  is  operated  by  a 
northern  syndicate,  with  J.  B.  Watkins  as 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


545 


The  fencing  alone  cost  over  $50,000 ;  enough  to  buy 
half  the  farms  in  a  common  county. 

The  Largest  Hanging-  Bell  in  the  World. 

The  largest  hanging  bell  in  the  world  is  in  a  Bud 
dhist  monastery,  near  Canton,  China.  It  is  eighteen 
feet  high  and  forty-five  feet  in  circumference,  and  is  of 
solid  bronze.  It  is  one  of  eight  great  bells  which  were 
cast  by  command  of  the  Emperor  Yung-lo  about  A.  D. 
1400,  and  is  said  to  have  cost  the  lives  of  eight  men, 
who  were  killed  during  the  process  of  casting.  The 
whole  bell,  both  inside  and  out,  is  covered  with  an 
inscription  in  embossed  Chinese  characters  about  half 
an  inch  long,  covering  even  the  handle,  the  total 
number  being  84,000.  The  characters  tell  a  single 
gtory — one  of  the  Chinese  classics. 

The  Largest  Stationary  Engine  in  the 
World. 

The"  largest  stationary  engine  in  the  world  is  at  the 
famous  zinc  mines  at  Friedensville,  Pa.  It  is  known 
as  the  "  President,"  and  there  is  no  pumping  engine 
in  the  world  that  can  be  compared  with  the  monster. 
The  number  of  gallons  of  water  raised  every  minute 
is  17,500.  The  driving  wheels  are  thirty-five  feet  in 
diameter  and  weigh  forty  tons  each.  The  sweep  rod 
is  forty  feet  long,  the  cylinder  no  inches  in  diameter, 
and  the  piston-rod  eighteen  inches  in  diameter,  with  a 
ten-foot  stroke. 

f  he  Largest  Gun  in  the  United  States. 

The  largest  mounted  gun  in  the  United  States,  is 
the  20  inch  Rodman,  smooth  bore,  at  Fort  Hamilton, 
New  York  Harbor.  Its  dimensions  are  as  follows  : 
extreme  length,  243^$  inches  ;  maximum  diameter,  64 
inches ;  minimum  diameter,  34  inches ;  length  of  bore  in 
calibers,  10.50  inches.  The  service  charge  is  200  pounds 
of  powder,  and  the  weight  of  the  projectile  is  2,000 
pounds.  There  is  also  a  wrought  iron  lined  rifled  12 J4 
inch  gun  at  Sandy  Hook.  Its  weight  is  89,350  pounds ; 
extreme  length,  262^  inches ;  maximum  diameter,  55 
inches;  minimum  diameter,  27.55  inches;  length  of 
the  bore  in  calibers,  18.53  inches.  This  gun  is  used 
fcr  experimental  purposes,  in  testing  powder. 

The  Longest  Tunnels  in  the  World. 

The  Mount  St.  Gothard  Tunnel,  Italy,  is  48,840  feet 
long,  or  nearly  10  miles  long,  and  the  longest  in  the 
world. 

Mount  Cenis  Tunnel,  Italy,  is  39,840  feet  long,  or 
?bout  seven  miles  long. 

Hoosac  Tunnel,  Mass.,  1325,080  feet  long,  or  about 
4>£  miles. 

The  Nochistongo  Tunnel  is  21,659  feet  long  or  about 
four  miles. 

The  Sutro  Tannel  is  21,120  feet  long,  or  four  miles. 

Thames  and  Medway,  Eng.,  is  11,880  feet  long:  or 
About  two  miles. 

35 


Largest  Steam  Hammer  in  the  World. 

The  greatest  steam  hammer  in  the  world,  constructed 
at  the  Bethlehem  Iron  Company's  works  for  the  man 
ufacture  of  armor  plate,  was  designed  after  the  hammec 
of  Schneider  &  Co. ,  of  Le  Crusot,  France,  which,  next 
to  this  one,  is  the  largest  hammer  in  the  world.  It  has 
a  stroke  of  125  tons,  while  the  Schneider  hammer  ia 
only  capable  of  striking  a  loo-ton  blow.  The  hammer 
is  used  for  forging  ingots  into  armor  plates.  These 
ingots  are  cast  of  metal  weighing  from  100  to  150  tons, 
and  by  this  stupendous  piece  of  mechanism  are  forged 
into  the  desired  sizes  by  125-ton  blows. 

The  hammer  stands  in  the  centre  of  a  very  large 
building  and  over  a  year  was  spent  in  its  construction. 
A  pit  58  by  62  feet  was  dug  for  the  foundation  and  on 
walls  30  feet  high  the  anvil  stands.  To  give  the  found 
ation  a  certain  elasticity,  a  layer  of  20  steel  slabs  on 
top  of  Ohio  white  oak  timbers  was  made  and  the  sur 
face  was  rendered  perfectly  smooth.  It  was  of  course 
entirely  out  of  the  question  to  cast  in  a  single  piece 
the  iron  required  and  the  anvil  was  built  by  depositing 
on  top  of  the  steel  slabs  and  their  timbers  22  blocks  of 
solid  cast  iron.  The  average  weight  of  these  blocks  is 
70  tons,  and  the  entire  weight  of  the  mass  of  iron  and 
steel  forming  the  anvil  and  foundation  is  nearly  1800 
tons.  The  anvil  foundation  and  the  hammer  founda^ 
tion  are  entirely  separate  and  independent  of  eact 
other,  and  in  no  way  interlaced. 

The  hammer  itself  is  a  majestic  looking  structure, 
superimposed  over  the  cyclopean  mass  of  iron,  forming 
the  anvil — huge,  substantial  and  powerful,  rising  to  a 
height  of  90  feet.  The  housings,  composing  the  first 
section,  form  a  large  arch,  curving  gracefully  over  the 
anvil.  These  housings  are  each  composed  of  a  single 
120-ton  casting.  The  longitudinal  width  of  the  ham 
mer  (that  is,  looking  at  it  from  either  the  east  or  wesO 
is  42  feet.  The  housings  whose  bases  are  10  feet  by  8 
are  firmly  clamped  into  the  foundation  walls  at  each 
side,  and  are  fastened  to  washers  lying  beneath  the 
walls  a  depth  of  33  feet. 

Around  the  entire  periphery  of  the  hammer,  to  the 
height  of  the  first  section,  15  feet,  is  a  platform  of 
levers  controlling  the  working  of  the  machine.  Above 
is  another  arch  of  housings,  which  weigh  80  tons 
apiece.  This  arch  is  capped  by  a  steam  chest,  a  cast 
ing  ef  65  tons.  Here,  at  the  height  of  some  70  feet,  is 
another  platform.  On  the  top  of  this  steam  chest,  and 
in  the  centre  of  this  platform,  is  super-added  the  huge 
cylinder,  24  feet  high,  with  an  internal  diameter  of  76 
inches.  In  the  exact  zenith  of  the  arch  is  the  large 
tup  or  ram  of  the  hammer,  an  enormous  piece  of  metal 
about  19^  feet  long,  10  feet  wide  and  four  feet  thick, 
the  weight  of  which  is  almost  1000  tons.  It  is  this 
which  forms  the  principal  bulk  of  the  enormous  weight 
of  the  hammer  and  gives  power  to  its  heavy  blows, 
Connected  to  this  is  the  piston  rod,  a  splendid  specft» 


546 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


men  of  perfectly  wrought  steel,  40  feet  long  ana  10 
inches  diameter.  At  the  bottom  of  the  trip  and  keyed 
to  it  is  the  die  hammer.  This  is  a  large  square  block 
of  iron,  faced  with  steel,  and  is  the  piece  which  will 
strike  the  metal  that  is  being  forged.  The  piston-rod 
has  a  play  of  16^  feet,  and  the  weight  of  trip,  piston- 
rod  and  piston  aggregates  125  tons,  which,  multiplied 
by  the  full  stroke,  is  the  power  of  the  hammer's  stu 
pendous  blows.  The  whole  thing  is  indeed  a  contriv 
ance  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  mechanism. 
Most  Notable  Bridges  of  the  World. 

Brooklyn  bridge  was  commenced,  under  the  direc- 
'don  of  J.  Roebling,  in  1870,  and  completed  in  about 
thirteen  years.  It  is  3,475  feet  long  and  135  feet  high. 
The  cost  of  building  was  nearly  $15,000,000. 

The  Canti-lever  bridge,  over  the  Niagara,  is  built 
almost  entirely  of  steel.  Its  length  is  910  feet,  the 
total  weight  is  3,000  tons,  and  the  cost  was  $900,000. 

The  Niagara  Suspension  bridge  was  built  by  Roeb 
ling,  in  1852-55,  at  a  cost  of  $400,000  It  is  245  feet 
above  water,  821  feet  long,  and  the  strength  is  esti 
mated  at  1,200  tons. 

The  bridge  at  Havre  de  Grace,  over  the  Susquehanna, 
is  3,271  feet  long,  and  is  divided  into  twelve  wooden 
spans,  resting  on  granite  piers. 

The  Britannia  bridge  crosses  the  Menai  strait,  Wales, 
at  an  elevation  of  103  feet  above  high  water.  It  is  of 
wrought  iron,  1,511  feet  long,  and  was  finished  in  1850. 
Cost,  $3,008,000. 

The  new  London  bridge  is  constructed  of  granite, 
from  the  designs  of  L-  Rennier.  It  was  commenced 
•n  1824,  and  completed  in  about  seven  years,  at  a  cost 
of  $7, 291, ocx). 

The  old  London  bridge  was  the  first  stone  bridge.  It 
was  commenced  in  1176,  and  completed  in  1209.  Its 
founder,  Peter  of  Colechurch,  was  buried  in  the  crypt 
of  the  chapel  erected  on  the  centre  pier. 

Coalbrookdale  Bridge,  England,  is  the  first  cast-iron 
bridge.  It  was  built  over  the  Severn  in  1779. 

The  bridge  at  Burton,  over  the  Trent,  was  formerly 
the  longest  bridge  in  England,  being  i  ,545  feet.  It  is 
QOW  partly  removed.  Built  in  the  twelfth  century. 

The  Rialto,  at  Venice,  is  said  to  have  been  built  from 
the  designs  of  Michael  Angelo.  It  is  a  single  marble 
arch,  98^  feet  long,  and  was  completed  in  1591. 

The  Bridge  of  Sighs,  at  Venice,  over  which  con 
demned  prisoners  were  transported  from  the  hall  of 
judgment  to  the  place  of  execution,  was  built  in  1589. 

The  bridge  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  at  Florence,  was 
built  in  1569.  It  is  322  feet  long,  constructed  of  white 
marble,  and  stands  unrivaled  as  a  work  ot  art. 

The  covered  bridge  at  Pavia,  over  the  Ticino,  was 
built  in  the  fourteenth  century.  The  roof  is  held  by 
loo  granite  columns. 

The  St.  Louis  bridge,  over  the  Mississippi,  is  1,524 
feet  long,  exclusive  of  approaches.  There  are  three 


arched  spans  of  cast  steei,  me  centre  arch  being  »,«c 
feet,  with  a  rise  of  47^  feet ;  and  the  side  spans  502 
feet  each,  with  a  rise  of  46  feet.  The  width  on  top, 
between  rails,  is  50  feet.  The  piers  re.-ton  the  bed-rock 
of  the  river,  136  feet  below  high  water  mark.  Captain 
James  B.  Eads  was  the  engineer. 

Rush  street  bridge,  Chicago,  111.,  erected  in  1884,  at 
a  cost  of  $132,000,  is  the  largest  general  traffic  draw 
bridge  in  the  world.  Its  roadway  will  accommodate 
four  teams  abreast,  and  its  footways  are  seven  feet 
wide. 

The  Victoria  Bridge,  Montreal,  one  ol  the  most  fr- 
mous  in  the  world,  is  nearly  two  miles  in  length. 

The  Cleveland  (O.)  viaduct  is  3,211  feet  in  length,  64 
feet  wide,  42  feet  of  which  is  roadway  ;  the  drawbridge 
is  332  feet  in  length,  46  feet  wide,  nnd  is  68  feet  above 
ordinary  stage  of  water. 

The  Greatest  City  iii  the  World. 

London,  England,  is  the  greatest  city  the  world  eveJ 
saw.  It  covers  within  the  fifteen  miles'  radius  of 
Charing  Cross  (Strand)  700  square  miles.  It  numbers 
within  these  boundaries  5,656,000  of  inhabitants.  It 
comprises  over  2,000,000  foreigners  from  every  quarter 
of  the  globe.  It  contains  more  Roman  Catholics  than 
Rome  itself;  more  Jews  than  the  whole  of  Palestine ; 
more  Irish  than  Dublin  ;  more  Scotchmen  than  Edin 
burgh  ;  more  Welshmen  than  Cardiff;  more  country- 
raised  persons  than  the  counties  of  Devon,  Warwick 
shire  and  Durham  combined.  Has  a  birth  every  five 
minutes,  has  a  death  in  it  every  eight  minutes;  has 
seven  accidents  every  day  in  its  8,000  miles  of  streets  ; 
has  on  an  average  40  miles  of  streets  opened  and  15,000 
new  houses  built  in  every  year.  London  has  46,000 
persons  added  annually  (by  birth)  to  its  population  ; 
has  over  1,000  ships  and  10,000  sailors  in  its  port  every 
day  ;  has  as  many  beer  shops  and  gin  palaces  as  would, 
if  placed  side  by  side,  stretch  from  Charing  Cross  to 
Portsmouth,  a  distance  of  seventy-eight  miles ;  has 
38,000  drunkards  annually  brought  before  its  magis 
trates  ;  has  seventy  miles  of  open  shops  every  Sunday; 
has  influence  with  all  parts  of  the  world  represented 
by  a  yearly  delivery  in  its  postal  districts  of  298,000,000 
of  letters.  Eight  hundred  and  fifty  trains  pass  Clap- 
ham  junction  every  day,  and  the  transportation  (under 
ground)  railroad  runs  1,211  trains  every  day.  The 
London  Omnibus  Company  have  over  700  'busses, 
which  carry  56,000,000  passengers  annually.  It  is 
more  dangerous  to  walk  the  streets  of  London  than  to 
travel  by  railroad  or  to  cross  the  Atlantic  from  New 
York  to  Liverpool.  In  1886,  130  persons  were  killed 
and  2,000  injured  by  vehicles  in  the  streets.  There  are 
in  London  15,000  police,  15,000  cabmen,  15,000 persons 
connected  with  the  post-office.  The  cost  of  gas  for 
lighting  London  annually  is  $3,000,000.  London  has 
400  daily  and  weekly  newspapers.  The  ancient  city  of 
London  was  first  founded  by  Brute,  the  Trojan,  in  the 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


547 


year  of  the  world  2832,  so  that  since  the  first  building 
it  is  3,007  years  old.  The  drainage  system  of  London 
is  superb,  and  the  death  rate  very  low. 

The  Largest  Trees  in  the  World. 

The  big  trees  of  Calaveras  and  Mariposa  Counties,  in 
California,  belong  to  the  same  genus  as  the  common 
redwood.  This  giant  of  the  Sierras  is  not  a  handsome 
tree,  either  when  young  or  aged ;  the  branches  are 
short,  the  spray  less  graceful  than  the  coast  redwood, 
the  leaves  small  and  awl-shaped,  but  the  cones  are 
several  times  larger,  and  the  wood  is  of  a  duller  reddish 
hue.  The  forests  were  first  seen  by  white  men  in  the 
spring  of  1852,  when  a  hunter  named  Dowd  conducted 
a  party  of  miners  to  the  locality  where  the  big  trees 
grew.  In  the  several  groves  where  they  have  been 
found,  fhere  are  many  bees  from  275  to  335  feet  high, 
and  from  25  to  34  feet  in  diameter.  The  area  of  Mari 
posa  Grove  is  two  miles  square,  and  it  contains  427 
of  the  monster  trees.  The  largest  in  the  Calaveras 
Grove  is  "The  Keystone  State,"  and  is  325  feet  high, 
and  its  girth  six  feet  from  the  ground  is  45  feet.  There 
are  some  in  the  Mariposa  Grove  which  are  not  so  high, 
but  which  have  a  greater  circumference.  "The  Griz 
zly  Giant,"  for  example,  being  93  feet  at  the  ground, 
and  over  64  eleven  feet  above.  Some  dozen  miles 
south  of  the  Mariposa  Grove  is  the  Fresno  Grove, 
which  is  said  to  contain  about  600  trees,  the  largest  81 
feet  in  circumference  ;  while  about  fifty  miles  north  of 
the  Calaveras,  in  Placer  County,  a  small  grove  has 
been  discovered.  Careful  computations  have  been 
made  of  the  ages  of  these  trees,  and  some  cautious 
scientists  admit,  in  regard  to  one  of  them,  that  "its 
age  cannot  have  exceeded  1,300  years !" 

The  Largest  Park  in  the  World. 

The  Yellowstone  National  Park  extends  sixty-five 
miles  north  and  south  and  fifty-five  miles  east  and 
west,  comprising  3,575  square  miles,  and  is  6,000  feet 
or  more  above  sea-level.  Yellowstone  lake,  twenty 
miles  by  fifteen,  has  an  altitude  of  7,788  feet.  The 
mountain  ranges  which  hem  in  the  valleys  on  every 
side  rise  to  the  height  of  10,000  to  12,000  feet,  and  are 
always  covered  with  snow.  This  great  park  contains 
the  most  striking  of  all  the  mountains,  gorges,  falls, 
rivers,  and  lakes  in  the  whole  Yellowstone  region. 
The  springs  on  Gardiner's  River  cover  an  area  of  about 
one  square  mile,  and  three  or  four  square  miles  there 
about  are  occupied  by  the  remains  of  springs  which 
have  ceased  to  flow.  The  natural  basins  into  which 
these  springs  flow  are  from  four  to  six  feet  in  diameter 
and  from  one  to  four  feet  in  depth.  The  principal 
ones  are  located  upon  terraces  midway  up  the  sides  of 
the  mountain.  The  banks  of  the  Yellowstone  River 
abound  with  ravines  and  canons,  which  are  carved  out 
of  the  heart  of  the  mountains  through  the  hardest 
rocks. 


The  most  remarkable  of  these  is  the  c;  ,on  of  Towes 
Creek  and  Column  Mountain.  The  latter,  which  ex 
tends  along  the  eastern  bank  of  the  river  for  upward 
of  two  miles,  is  said  to  resemble  the  Giant's  Causeway., 
The  canon  of  Tower  Creek  is  about  ten  miles  in  length, 
and  is  sc  deep  and  gloomy  that  it  is  called  "The 
Devil's  Den."  Where  Tower  Creek  ends  the  Grand 
Canon  begins.  It  is  twenty  miles  in  length,  im 
passable  throughout,  and  inaccessible  at  the  water's 
edge,  except  at  a  few  points.  Its  rugged  edges  are 
from  200  to  500  yards  apart,  and  its  depth  is  so  pro 
found  that  no  sound  ever  reaches  the  ear  from  the 
bottom.  The  Grand  Canon  contains  a  great  multitude 
of  hot  springs  of  sulphur,  sulphate  of  copper,  alum, 
etc.  In  the  number  and  magnitude  of  its  hot  springs 
and  geysers,  the  Yellowstone  Park  surpasses  all  the 
rest  of  the  world.  There  are  probably  fifty  gey  sera 
that  throw  a  column  of  water  to  the  height  of  from  50 
to  200  feet,  and  it  is  stated  that  there  are  not  fewe* 
than  5,000  springs;  there  are  two  kinds,  those  de 
positing  lime  and  those  depositing  silica.  The  teffi" 
perature  of  the  calcareous  springs  is  from  160  to  lye 
degrees,  while  that  of  the  others  rises  to  200  or  more! 
The  principal  collections  are  the  upper  and  lower  gey 
ser  basins  of  the  Madison  River  and  the  calcareous 
springs  on  Gardiner's  River.  The  great  falls  are  mar 
vels  to  which  adventurous  travelers  have  gone  only  ttf 
return  and  report  that  they  are  parts  of  the  wonders  of 
this  new  American  wonderland.  f 

The  Washington  Monument. 

The  corner-stone  was  laid  by  President  Polk,  July 
4th,  1848,  and  December  6,  1884,  the  cap-stone  was  set 
in  position.  The  foundations  are  126^  feet  square 
and  36  feet,  8  inches  deep.  The  base  of  the  monument 
is  55  feet,  \y2  inches  square,  and  the  walls  15  feet,  $ 
inch  thick.  At  the  soo-foot  mark,  where  the  pyram 
idal  top  begins,  the  shaft  is  34  feet,  5^  inches  square 
and  the  walls  are  18  inches  thick.  The  monument  is 
made  of  block?  of  marble  2  feet  thick,  and  it  is  said 
there  are  over  18,000  of  them.  The  height  above  tht 
ground  is  555  i'eet.  The  pyramidal  top  terminates  io 
an  aluminum  tip,  which  is  9  inches  high  and  weighs 
100  ounces.  The  mean  pressure  of  the  monument  is  «> 
tons  per  square  foot,  and  the  total  weight,  foundation 
and  all,  is  nearly  81,000  tons.  The  door  at  the  base, 
facing  the  capitol,  is  8  feet  wide  and  16  feet  high,  and 
enters  a  room  25  feet  square.  An  immense  iron  frame' 
work  supports  the  machinery  of  the  elevator,  which  is 
hoisted  with  steel  wire  ropes  two  inches  thick.  Atone 
side  begin  the  stairs,  of  which  there  are  fifty  flights, 
containing  eighteen  steps  each.  Five  hundred  and 
twenty  feet  from  the  base  there  are  eight  windows, 
18x24  inches,  two  on  each  face.  The  area  at  the  base 
of  the  pyramidal  top  is  1,187^  feet,  space  enough  for 
a  six-room  house,  each  room  to  be  12x16  feet.  Thvi 
Cologne  Cathedral  is  525  feet  high  -,  the  pyramid  o* 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Cheops,  486  ;  Strasburg  Cathedral,  474  ;  St.  Peter's  at 
Rome,  448  ;  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  306,  and  Bun 
ker  Hill  monument,  221  feet.  The  Washington 
monument,  therefore,  is  the  highest  structure  in  the 
world  except  the  temporary  Eiffel  Tower.  Exter 
nally  the  monument  is  complete,  but  to  complete  the 
interior  will  be  the  work  of  time.  When  done  the  total 
cost  will  aggregate  not  far  from  f  i, 500, coo. 

Height  of  Principal  Monuments  and 
Buildings. 

Places.                         Names.  Feet. 

Paris Eiffel 1,000 

Wash.,  D.  C Washington  Monument.. 555 

Philadelphia Public  Buildings 535 

Egypt Pyramid  of  Cheops 486 

Belgium Antwerp  Cathedral 476 

France Strasburg  Cathedral 474 

Egypt Pyramid  of  Cephrenes 456 

Rome St.  Peter's  Church 448 

Germany St.  Martin's  Church,  atLandshut  411 

England Salisbury  Cathedral 400 

England St.  Paul's  Church,  London 365 

Italy Cathedral  at  Florence 386 

Lombardy Cathedral  at  Cremona 397 

Germany Church  at  Fribourg 386 

Spain Cathedral  of  Seville 360 

I/ombardy Cathedral  of  Milan 355 

Holland Cathedral  of  Utrecht 356 

Egypt Pyramid  of  Sakkarah 356 

Bavaria Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  Munich  348 

Venice St.  Mark's  Church ...  328 

Italy Assinelli  Tower,  Bologna 272 

New  York Trinity  Church 284 

Hindostan Column  at  Delhi 262 

China Porcelain  Tower,  Nankin 260 

Paris Church  of  Notre  Dame 224 

Massachusetts... Bunker  Hill  Monument 221 

Italy Leaning  Tower  of  Pisa 179 

Baltimore Washington  Monument 175 

Paris Monument,  Place  Vendome 153 

Italy Trojan's  Pillar,  Rome 151 

Paris Obelisk  of  Luxor no 

P  Capacity  of  the  Largest  Churches  and 
Halls. 

St.  Peter's  Cathedral Rome 54,ooo 

Cathedral  of  Milan Milan ; 37,000 

St.  Paul's  Church Rome 32,000 

St.  Paul's  Cathedral London 25,000 

Church  of  St.  Petronio.. Bologna 24,000 

Cathedral  of  Florence... Florence 24,000 

Cathedral  of  Antwerp. ..Antwerp 24,000 

Mosque  of  St.  Sophia... Constantinople 23,000 

St.  John's  Lateran Rome 22,000 

Cathedral     of     Notre  )  paris 

Uame > 


Cathedral  of  Pisa Pisa 13,000 

Church  of  St.  Stephen.. .Vienna 12,000 

Church  of  St.  Dominic.. Bologna 12,000 

Church  of  St.  Peter Bologna 11,400 

Cathedral  of  Vienna Vienna 11,000 

St.  Peter's  Cathedral Montreal 10,000 

Gilmore's  Garden New  York 8,433 

Auditorium Chicago 8,000 

Academy  of  Music Philadelphia 2,865 

Theatre  Carlo  Felice Genoa 2,560 

Boston  Theatre Boston 2,972 

Covent  Garden London 2,684 

Academy  of  Music New  York 2,526 

Music  Hall Boston 2,585 

Alexander  Theatre St.  Petersburg 2,332 

Opera  House Munich 2,307 

San  Carlos  Theatre Naples 2,240 

Imperial  Theatre St.  Petersburg 2,160 

Grand  Opera Paris 2,090 

La  Scala Milan 2,113 

St.  Charles  Theatre New  Orleans 2,178 

Opera  House New  Orleans 2,052 

Grand  Opera  House New  York 1,883 

Booth's  Theatre New  York 1,807 

McVickar's  Theatre Chicago i>79° 

Ford's  Opera  House Baltimore 1,720  * 

Opera  House Berlin 1)636 

The  Highest  Mountains. 

Feet. 
Kunchainyunga,  Himalayas 28,170 

Sorata,  Andes 25,380 

Illimani,  Bolivia 21,780- 

Chimborazo,  Ecuador 21,444 

Hindoo-Koosh,  Afghanistan 20,600 

Cotopaxi,  Ecuador !9,4o8 

Antisana,  Ecuador !9,I5O 

St.  EHas,  British  America 18.000 

Popocatapetl,  Mexico i?,735  , 

Mt.  Roa,  Hawaii 16,000 

Mt.  Brown 15,900 

Mont  Blanc 15,776  ; 

Mowna  Roas,  Owhyhee 15,700 

Mt.  Rosa,  Alps,  Sardinia 15,550 

Pinchinca,  Ecuador 15,200 

Mt.  Whitney,  Cal 15,000 

Mt.  Fairweather,  Alaska J4>796 

Mt.  Shasta,  Cal I4,45o 

Pike's  Peak,  Colorado , 14,320 

Mt.  Ophir,  Sumatra 13,800 

Fremont's  Peak,  Wyoming 13, 57°  j 

Long's  Peak,  Cal 13,400 1 

Mt.  Ranier,  Washington 13,000 

Mt.  Ararat,  Armenia 12,700 

Peak  of  Teneriffe,  Canaries 12,236 

Miltsin,  Morocco 12,000 

Mt.  Hood,  Oregon n,57O 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


549 


Feet. 

Simplon,  Alps n>542 

Mt.  Lebanon,  Syria 11,000 

Mt.  Perdu,  France 10,950 

Mt.  St.  Helen's,  Oregon 10,158 

Mt.  Etna,  Sicily 10,050 

Olympus,  Greece 9»754 

St,  Gothard,  Alps 9.°8° 

Pilate,  Alps 9.°5° 

Mt.  Sinai,  Arabia 8,000 

Pindus,  Greece  7,^77 

Black  Mountain,  New  Caledonia 6,467 

Mt.  Washington,  New  Hampshire 6,234 

Mt.  Marcy,  New  York 5.4^7 

Mt.  Hecla,  Iceland 5.000 

Ben  Nevis,  Scotland 4,4°o 

Mansfield,  Vermont 4,280 

Peaks  of  Otter,  Virginia 4,260 

Ben  Lawers,  Scotland 4>O3o 

Parnassus,  Greece 3,95° 

Vesuvius,  Naples 3>932 

Snowdon,  England 3,5°° 

Stromboli 3,850 

Ben  Lomond 3,280 

Mt.  Carmel 2,000 

Gibraltar 1,470 

Height  of  Twenty-four  of  the  Loftiest  Vol 
canoes  of  the  World. 

Height 
Name  of  Volcano.  in  feet.  Where  Located. 

Sahama 23,000 Peru. 

Llullaillac 21,000 Chili. 

Arequipa 20,500 Peru. 

Cayambi 19,813 Ecuador. 

Cotopaxi 19,500 Peru. 

Antisana 19,200 Ecuador. 

San  Jose  18,150 Chili. 

Mt.  St.  Elias 17,900 Alaska. 

Popocatepetl 17,884 Mexico. 

Orizaba 17,370 Mexico. 

Altar 17,126 Ecuador. 

Sangai 17,120 Ecuador. 

Klintcheoskaia 16,512 Kamtschatka. 

Iztacihuatl 15,700 Mexico. 

Toluco 15,500 Mexico. 

Shasta 14,400 United  States. 

Fujiyama 14,000 Japan. 

Mauna  Kea I3,953 Sandwich  Islands. 

'Mauna  Loa 13,760 Sandwich  Islands. 

Teneriffe 12,236 Canary  Islands. 

Mt.  St.  Helens 12,000 United  States. 

Mt.  Hood 11,225 United  States. 

Peak  of  Tahiti 10,895 Friendly  Islands. 

Mt.  Etna 10.874 Sicily. 

Three  of  the  best  known   volcanoes  of   the  world, 
Vesuvius,  3,978  feet;  Hecla,  3,970  feet,  and  Stromboli, 


3,000  feet,  are  of  much  less  elevation  than  many  other* 
altogether  unfamiliar. 

Greatest  Known  Depth  of  the  Ocean. 

The  greatest  depth  which  has  been  ascertained  by 
sounding  is  five  miles  and  a  quarter  (25,720  feet,  or 
4,620  fathoms),  not  quite  equal  to  the  height  of  the 
highest  known  mountain.  The  average  depth  between 
60  degrees  north  and  60  degrees  south,  is  nearly  three 
miles. 

Deepest  Lake  in  the  "World. 

In  the  Cascade  Mountains,  about  seventy-five  miles? 
northeast  of  Jacksonville,  Ore.,  the  seeker  for  the 
curious  will  find  the  Great  Sunken  Lake,  the  deepest 
lake  in  the  world.  This  lake  rivals  the  famous  valley 
of  Sinbad  the  Sailor.  It  is  said  to  average  2,000  feet 
down  to  the  water  on  all  its  sides.  The  depth  of  the 
water  is  unknown,  and  its  surface  is  as  smooth  and 
unruffled  as  a  mammoth  sheet  of  glass,  it  being  so  far 
below  the  mountain  rim  as  to  be  unaffected  by  the 
strongest  winds.  It  is  about  15  miles  in  length,  and 
about  4%  wide.  For  unknown  ages  it  has  lain  still, 
silent,  and  mysterious  in  the  bosom  of  the  great  moun 
tain  range,  like  a  gigantic  trench,  scooped  out  by  the 
hands  of  a  giant  genie.  A  hunting  and  surveying 
party  recently  left  Jacksonville  with  the  intention  of 
ascertaining  the  exact  depth  of  this  mysterious  body  of 
water,  and  to  find  out,  if  possible,  whether  or  not  fish 
are  to  be  found  within  its  ghostly  precincts. 

The  Longest  Rivers  in  the  World. 
EUROPE;. 

Name.  Miles. 

Volga,  Russia 2,500 

Danube 1,800 

Rhine 84* 

Vistula 700 

ASIA. 

Yeneisy  and  Selenga 3,580 

Kiang 3,290 

Hoang  Ho 3,040 

Amoor 2,500 

Euphrates 1,900 

Ganges ,.  1,850 

Tigris 1,160 

AFRICA. 

Nile 3,240 

Niger 2,400 

Gambia 1,000 

SOUTH  AMERICA. 

Amazon  and  Beni 4,000 

Platte 2.700 

Rio  Madeira 2,300 

Rio  Negro 1,650 

Orinoco  1, 600 

Uruguay  I,ioo 

Magdalena dost 


55° 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


NORTH  AMERICA. 
Name.  Miles. 

Mississippi  and  Missouri 4,300 

Mackenzie... 2,800 

Rio  Bravo 2,300 

Arkansas 2,070 

Red  River 1,520 

Ohio  and  Allegheny 1,480 

St.  Lawrence 1,450 

Size  of  Lakes,  Seas  and  Oceans. 

Miles 
Lakes.  Long. 

Superior 380 

Michigan 330 

Ontario 180 

Champlain 123 

Brie 270 

Huron 250 

Cayuga 36 

George 36 

Baikal 360 

Great  Slave 300 

Winnipeg 240 

Athabasca 200 

Maracaybo 150 

Great  Bear 150 

Ladoga 125 

Constance 45 

Geneva 50 

Lake  of  the  Woods 70 


rivers  had  made  beds  for  themselves  with  alluviaa 
banks  higher  than  the  plains  across  which  they  flowed. 
But  aside  from  these  the  colossal  calamity  at  Johns 
town,  Pa.,  in  June,  1889,  and  through  the  fated  Cone- 
maugh  valley,  leads  all  disasters  in  this  country  in  the 
appalling  muster  roll  of  the  dead.  In  past  centuries 
the  greatest  loss  of  life  has  been  by  earthquake,  and 
the  following  list  embraces  the  loss  w.  historic  calami' 
ties : 


Miles 
Wide. 

120 
60 

40 
12 

50 
90 

4 
3 

35 
45 
40 

20 
60 

40 

75 
10 

10 

25 

Miles 
Seas.  Long. 

Mediterranean 2,000 

Caribbean 1,800 

China 1,700 

Red 1,400 

Japan 1,000 

iBlack 932 

Caspian 640 

Baltic, 600 

Okhotsk 600 

White 450 

Aral 


250 

Miles 
-Oceans.  Square. 

Pacific 80,000,000 

Atlantic 40,000,000 

Indian 20,000,000 

Southern 10,000,000 

Arctic 5,000,000 

The  Great  Catastrophes  of  History. 

In  China,  where  some  of  the  greatest  rivers  in  the 
world  flovv  between  artificial  banks  at  an  elevation 
considerably  above  the  surrounding  country,  there 
have  been  overflows  that  caused  the  destruction  of 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  lives.  There  have  been 
similar  disasters  in  India,  where,  as  in  China,  the 


Persons 
Killed. 


Year.     Place.  Persons 

Killed. 

1137  Sicily 15,000 

1158  Syria 20,000 

1268  Cilicia 50,001- 

1456  Naples 40,000 

1531  Lisbon 40,000 

1626  Naples 70,000 

1667  Schamaki 80,000 

1692  Jamaica 3,ooo 

1693  Sicily 100,000 

1703  Aquila,  Italy..     4,000 
1703  Yeddo, Japan. 200,000 
1706  The  Abruzzi...  15.000 

1716  Algiers 20,000 

1726  Palermo 6,000 

1731  Pekin 100,000 

1746  Lima  and  Cal- 

loa 18.000 

1754  Grand  Cairo...  40,000 

1755  Kashan,    Per 

sia 40,000 

1759  Syria 20,000 

1784  E  z  inghian, 

Asia  Minor...    5,000 

One  instance  shows  how  the  human  race  has  been 
depleted  from  this  cause.  In  the  Kingdom  of  Naples, 
from  1783  to  1857,  a  period  of  75  years,  the  loss  of  life 
by  earthquakes  was  1 1 1 ,000  or  at  the  rate  of  more  that 
1500  a  year,  out  of  a  population  of  6,000,000.  The 
country  surrounding  the  Mediterranean  and  the  inter' 
tropical  area  from  which  the  American  Cordilleras 
spring,  may  be  regarded  as  the  centers  of  earthquake 
activity,  though  some  of  the  greatest  earthquakes  of 
all  time  have  occurred  in  Eastern  Asia  and  the  East 
Indies. 

The  list  of  losses  by  great  floods  and  freshets  in 
history  is  as  follows  : 


Year.     1  lace. 

1792  Country  be 
tween  Santa 
Fe  and  Pana 
ma 

1805  Naples 

1822  Aleppo 

1829  Murcia 

1830  Canton 

1842  Cape  Haytien 
1857  Calabria 

1859  Quito 

1860  M  e  n  d  o  z  i , 

South  A  m- 
erica 

1868  Towns  in; Peru 
and  Ecuador 

1875  San  Jose  de 
Cucuta,  Co 
lombia 

1881  Scio 

1886  Charleston... 


40,000 
6,500 

20,000 

5.000 
6,000 
4,000 
10,000 
5,000 


7,000 
25,000 


14,000 

4,000 

96 


Year.    Place.  Lives  Lost. 

1871  China 3,000 

1874  Mill  River, 

Mass 150 

1878  Egypt,  the 

Nile 250 


Year.  Place.  Lives  Lost 

1879  Marcia,  Spain  1,000 
1887  Yellow  River, 

China 100,000 

1889  Johnstown, 

Pa 6,m 


Great  Conflagrations  of  the  Present 
Century. 

But  the  greatest  destruction  of  life  and  property  by 
conflagrations,  of  which  the  world  has  anything  like 
accurate  records,  must  be  looked  for  within  the  current 
century.  Of  these  the  following  is  a  partial  list  of  in 
stances  in  which  the  loss  of  prot>eity  amounted  to 
$3, 000,000  and  upward: — 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


55' 


Dates.  Cities. 

1802  Liverpool ; 

1803  Bombay 

1805  St.  Thomas 

1808  Spanish  Town 

1812  Moscow,   burned  five  days;    30,800 

houses  destroyed 

1816  Constantinople,     12,000     dwellings, 

3000  shops 

1820  Savannah 

1822  Canton,  nearly  destroyed 

1828  Havana,  350  houses 

3835  New  York  ("Great  Fire") 

1837  St.  John,  N.  B 

1838  Charleston,  1158  buildings 

1841  Smyrna,  12,000  houses 

1842  Hamburg,  4219  buildings,  100  lives 

lost 

1845  New  York,  35  persons  killed 

1845  Pittsburgh,  noo  buildings 

1845  Quebec,  May  28,  1650  dwellings 

1845  Quebec,  June  28,  1300  dwellings 

1846  St.  Johns,  Newfoundland 

1848  Constantinople,  2500  buildings 

1848  Albany,  N.  Y.,  600  houses 

1849  St.  Louis 

1851  St.  Louis,  2500  buildings 

1851  St.  Louis,  500  buildings 

1851  San  Francisco,  May  4  and  5,  many 

lives  lost 

1851  San  Francisco,  June 

1852  Montreal,  1200  buildings 

1861  Mendoza,   destroyed  by  earthquake 

and  fire,  10,000  lives  lost 

1862  St.  Petersburg 

1862  Troy,  N.  Y.,  nearly  destroyed 

1862  Valparaiso,  almost  destroyed 

1864  Novgorod,  immense    destruction  of 

property 

1865  Constantinople,  2800  buildings  burned. 

1866  Yokohama,  nearly  destroyed 

1865  Carlstadt,  Sweden,  all  consumed  but 

Bishop's  residence,   hospital,  and 
jail;  10  lives  lost 

1866  Portland,  Me.,  half  the  city 

1866  Quebec,     2500     dwellings     and     17 

churches 

1870  Constantinople,  Pera  suburb 

1871  Chicago,  250  lives  lost,  17,430  build 

ings  burned,  on  2124  acres 

1871  Paris,  fired  by  the  Commune 

1872  Boston 

1873  Yeddo,  10,000  houses 

1877  Pittsburgh,  caused  by  riot 

187?  St.  Johns,  N.  B.,  1650  dwellings,  18 

lives  lost 


Property 
Destroyed 

5,000,000 

3,000,000 

30,000,000 

7,500,000 

150,000,000 


4,000,000 


15,000,000 
5,000,000 
3,000,000 


35,000,000 
7,500,000 

10,000,000 

3,750,000 


5,000,000 
15,000,000 

3,000,000 

3.000,000 
11,000,000 

3,000,000 

10,000,000 
3,000,000 
5,000,000 


5,000,000 


11,000,000 


26,000,000 

192,000,000 

160,000,000 

75,000,000 


3,260,000 
12,500,000 


Property 
Dates.  Cities.  Destroyed 

1889  Seattle,  Wash 20,060,000 

From  the  above  it  appears  that  the  five  greatest  fires 
on  record,  reckoned  by  destruction  of  property,  are : — 

Chicago  fire,  of  Oct.  8  and  9,  1871 $192,000,000 

Paris  fires,  of  May,  1871 160,000,000 

Moscow  fire,  of  Sept.  14-19,  1812 150,000,000 

Boston  fire,  Nov.  9-10,  1872 75,000,009 

London  fire,  Sept.  2-6,  1666 53, 652,500 

Hamburg  fire,  May  5-7,  1842 35,000,000 

Taking  into  account,  with  the  fires  of  Paris  and 
Chicago,  the  great  Wisconsin  and  Michigan  forest  fires 
of  1871,  in  which  it  is  estimated  that  1000  human  beings 
perished  and  property  to  the  amount  of  over  $3,000,000 
was  consumed,  it  is  plain  that  in  the  annals  of  confla* 
grations  th^'.year  stands  forth  in  gloomy  pre-eminence 

Chicago's  Great  Fires. 

There  were  2,100  acres  of  land  burned  over,  nearly 
all  of  which  area  was  thickly  covered  with  buildings. 
There  were  nearly  18,000  buildings  destroyed,  of  which 
about  2, 400  were  stores  andfactories  ;  and.  there  were  but 
few  short  of  100,000  people  rendered  homeless  by  the 
calamity.  The  extreme  length  of  the  burnt  district 
was  3^  miles,  and  its  greatest  width  a  little  over  a 
mile.  The  fire  of  July,  1874,  originated  on  South  Clark 
street,  between  Taylor  and  Twelfth,  and  spread  north 
east  to  Michigan  avenue.  It  was  estimated  that  in  this 
fire  about  fifty  acres  were  burned  over,  many  of  the 
the  new  buildings  which  had  been  erected  after  the 
great  fire  of  1871  having  been  leveled.  The  loss  of 
property  in  the  great  fire  of  1871  was  $192,000,000,  after 
allowing  $4,000,000  for  salvage  on  foundations  of  build 
ings.  This  estimate  does  not  include  the  shrinkage  of 
real  estate  values,  or  the  large  loss  to  mercantile  inter= 
ests  by  the  interruption  of  trade  consequent  upon  the 
destruction  of  stocks  and  business  facilities.  Mr.  Col- 
bert  estimated  the  grand  aggregate  not  very  much 
below  $290,000,000.  The  loss  occasioned  by  the  fire  of 
1874  was  estimated  as  follows  :  The  net  loss  to  insur 
ance  companies  was  officially  placed  at  $2,244,970,  or 
40  per  cent,  of  the  entire  loss,  making  an  estimated 
total  loss  of  $5,612,425.  The  cash  contributions  to  Chi 
cago  within  three  months  after  t'ie  fire  amounted  to 
$4,200,000. 

Most  Noted  Facts  m  Turf  History. 

The  richest  stake  ever  run  in  America  was  the  Fu 
turity  stake  of  1890,  run  at  Sheepshead  Bay,  L.  I.. 
August  30,  and  won  by  August  Belmont's  ch.  c. 
Potomac  (2)  by  St.  Blaise,  dam  Susquehanna,  by 
Leamington.  The  value  of  the  stake  was  $77,700,  at 
which  $68,450  went  to  the  winner,  and  $4500  to  the 
second  horse,  Masher,  b.  c.,  by  111  Used,  also  owned 
by  Mr..  Belmont,  who  in  addition  received  $2500  for 
breeding  first  and  second,  making  his  winnings  $75, 450. 
Strathmeath,  the  third  horse,  received  $2250. 


552 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


The  Lancashire  plate  run  at  the  Manchester,  Eng.  , 
September  meeting  of  1889,  and  won  by  the  Duke  of 
Portland's  b.  c.  Donovan,  was  -worth  nearly  $80,000  to 
the  winner. 

Largest  amount  ever  won  by  an  American  two-year 
old,  $78,650,  Potomac,  b.  c.,  by  St.  Blaise,  1890. 

The  greatest  winning  three-year-old  was  Hanover, 
by  Hindoo.  He  won  twenty  races  and  $89,827. 

Miss  Woodford,  br.  m.,  foaled  1880,  by  imported  Bil 
let,  darn  Fanny  Jane,  by  Neil  Robinson,  won  more 
money  than  any  animal  that  ever  ran  on  the  American 
turf,  winning  in  five  years  forty-eight  races,  worth 
$118,970. 

In  1886  the  stable  of  Dwyer  Brothers  won  $208,549.16 
in  purses  and  stakes  —  more  money  than  was  ever  won 
by  any  other  single  racing  establishment  in  America. 

The  greatest  sale  of  thoroughbreds  ever  had  in  this 
country  was  that  of  P.  Lorillard  in  1886,  at  which 
twenty-seven  head  sold  for  $149,050,  the  highest  price 
being  $29,000,  the  lowest  $300. 

The  Kentucky-bred  horse  Abbotsford,  formerly  Mis 
take,  is  the  only  horse  that  has  ever  won  races  in  Eng 
land,  France  and  America. 

King  Thomas,  by  King  Ban,  was  the  highest  priced 
yearling  ever  sold  at  auction,  L.  O.  Appleby  paying 
$38,000  for  him  at  the  Haggin  sale  in  New  York,  June 
25,  1888.  The  following  day  Mr.  Appleby  sold  the 
colt  to  Senator  Hearst,  of  California,  for  $40,000. 

Highest  price  ever  paid  for  a  horse,  $105,000,  for 
Axtell,  br.  s.  ,  record,  2.12,  three  years  old,  by  William 
L.  (son  of  George  Wilkes),  dam  Lou,  by  Mambrino 
Boy.  Purchased  from  C.  W.  Williams,  of  Independ 
ence,  Iowa,  by  John  W.  Oonley,  of  Chicago,  and  oth 
ers. 

Dimensions  of  Bartholdi's  Statue  of  Liberty. 

The  figure  of  this  statue,  which  is  made  of  repousse, 
or  hammered  work  —  that  is,  thin  sheets  of  copper  beat 
en  into  shape  and  fastened  about  an  iron  skeleton  —  is 
1  10%  feet  high  and  weighs  100,000  pounds.  The  up 
lifted  torch,  however,  is  raised  26  feet,  and  adding  to 
this  the  pedestal,  the  tip  of  the  torch  is  raised  220  feet 
from  the  ground.  The  pedestal  is  of  stone,  82  feet 
high.  Some  idea  of  the  enormous  proportions  of  the 
statue  may  be  given  from  the  fact  that  the  forefinger  is 
8  feet  long,  and  4  feet  in  circumference  at  the  second 
joint.  The  head  is  14  feet  high  and  40  persons  can 
in  it. 


The  Dimensions  of  the  Great  Wall  of  China, 
and  of  What  It  Is  Built. 

It  runs  from  a  point  on  the  Gulf  of  Liantung,  an  arm 
of  the  Gulf  of  Pechili  in  North-eastern  China,  westerly 
to  the  Yellow  River,  thence  makes  a  great  bend  to  the 
south  for  nearly  100  miles,  and  then  runs  to  the  north 
west  for  several  hundred  miles  to  the  Desert  of  Gobi. 
Its  length  is  1,500  miles.  For  the  mostof  this  distance 


it  runs  through  a  mountainous  country,  keeping  on 
the  ridges,  and  winding  over  many  of  the  highest 
peaks.  In  some  places  it  is  only  a  formidable  ram 
part,  but  most  of  the  way  it  is  composed  of  lofty  walls 
of  masonry  and  concrete,  or  impacted  lime  and  clay, 
from  12  to  16  feet  in  thickness,  and  from  15  to  30  or  35 
feet  in  height.  The  top  of  this  wall  is  paved  for  hun 
dreds  ot  miles,  and  crowned  with  crenelated  batcle- 
ments,  and  towers  30  to  40  feet  high.  In  numerous 
places  the  wall  climbs  such  steep  declivities  that  its  top 
ascends  from  height  to  height  in  flights  of  granite 
steps.  An  army  could  march  on  the  top  of  the  wall 
for  weeks  and  even  months,  moving  in  some  places 
ten  men  abreast. 

The  History  of  Plymouth  Rock. 

A  flat  rock  near  the  vicinity  of  New  Plymouth  is 
said  to  have  been  the  one  on  which  the  great  body  of 
the  Pilgrims  landed  from  the  Mayflower.  The  many 
members  of  the  colony,  who  died  in  the  winter  of 
1620-21,  were  buried  near  this  rock.  About  1738  it 
was  proposed  to  build  a  wharf  along  the  shore  there. 
At  this  time  there  lived  in  New  Plymouth  an  old  man 
over  90  years  of  age  named  Thomas  Faunce,  who  had 
known  some  of  the  Mayflower's  passengers  when  a 
lad,  and  by  them  had  been  shown  the  rock  on  which 
they  had  landed.  On  hearing  that  it  was  to  be  covered 
with  a  wharf  the  old  man  wept,  and  it  has  been  said 
that  his  tears  probably  saved  Plymouth  Rock  from  ob 
livion.  After  the  Revolution,  it  was  found  that  the 
rock  was  quite  hidden  by  the  sand  washed  upon  ft  by 
the  sea.  The  sand  was  cleared  away,  but  in  attempt 
ing  to  take  up  the  rock  it  was  split  in  two.  The  upper 
half  was  taken  to  the  village  and  placed  in  the  town 
square.  In  1834  it  was  removed  to  a  position  in  front 
of  Pilgrim  Hall  and  inclosed  in  an  iron  railing.  In 
September,  1880,  this  half  of  the  stone  was  taken  back 
to  the  shore  and  reunited  to  the  other  portion.  A 
handsome  archway  was  then  built  over  the  rock,  to 
protect  it  in  part  from  the  depredations  of  relic  hunters. 

Most  Northern  Point  Reached  by  Arctic 
Explorers. 

The  following  table  shows  the  furthest  points  of 
north  latitude  reached  by  Artie   explorers  up  to  and 
including  the  Greely  expedition  : — • 
Year.  Explorers.  North   Latitude. 

1607 — Hudson Sod    23m    oos 

1 773 — Phipps  (Lord  Musgrove) Sod    48in    oos 

1806 — Scoresby Sid     i2tn     42$ 

1827— Parry 82d     45m     305 

1874 — Meyer  (on  land) Sad    O9in    oos 

1875 — Markham  (Nare's  expedition) 83d     2om     263 

1876 — Payer 83d    O7m    oos 

1884 — Lockwood  (Greely 's  party) 83d    24m    oos 

The  distance  from  the  farthest  point  of  polar  discov 
ery  to  the  pole  itself  is  6  deg.   /l6  min.,  or  in  round 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


553 


Cumbers,  460  miles.  It  is  thirty  miles  less  than  from 
Chicago  to  Omaha,  by  the  lines  of  the  Chicago, 
Milwaukee  and  St.  Paul  railway,  over  which  the 
traveller  rides  in  24  hours.  But  this  polar  radius, 
though  only  460  miles  in  extent,  is  covered  by  ice 
gorges  and  precipices  of  incredible  difficulty ;  and 
frost  is  so  severe  that  no  instrument  of  human  inven 
tion  can  measure  its  intensity,  and  it  blisters  the  skin 
like  extreme  heat. 

The  greatest  progress  that  has  ever  been  made  across 
these  wildernesses  of  storm,  of  fury  and  desolation,  was 
at  the  rate  of  five  or  six  miles  in  a  day,  the  explorers 
often  necessarily  resting  as  many  days  as  they  had 
before  travelled  miles  in  a  single  day,  debarred  by  the 
obstacles  that  they  had  encountered. 

The  Coal  Area  of  the  World. 

The  coal  area  of  the  world  is  distributed  as  follows  : 
Sq.  Miles.  Sq.  Miles. 


United  States 192,000 

British  America 18,000 

Great  Britain 12,000 

Spain  4,000 

France 2,000 


Germany 1,800 

Belgium 518 

Rest  of  Europe 100,000 

China 2,000 

Japan 5,000 


Railroad  Facts. 

The  cost  of  railroads  in  the  United  States  has  been 
nine  billion  dollars. 

One  million  oersons  are  employed  by  the  railroads 
of  the  United  States. 

The  cost  of  r  high-class  eight-wheel  passenger  loco 
motive  is  about  $8,500. 

The  cost  of  a  palace  sleeping-car  is  $15,000,  or  if 
"  vestibuled,"  $17,000. 

The  average  cost  of  constructing  a  mile  of  railroad 
in  the  United  States  at  the  present  time  is  about 
$30,000. 

The  average  daily  earning  of  an  American  locomo 
tive  is  about  $100. 

The  "consolidation"  locomotive  weighs  about  50 
tons,  and  is  able  to  draw  on  a  level  over  2,400  tons. 

The  longest  mileage  operated  by  a  single  system  is 
that  of  the  Atchison,  Topeka  and  Santa  Fe — about 
8,000  miles. 

The  line  of  railroad  which  extends  farthest  east  and 
west  is  the  Canadian  Pacific,  running  from  Quebec  to 
the  Pacific  ocean. 

There  are  sixty  miles  of  snow-sheds  on  the  Central 
Pacific  Railroad. 

The  highest  railroad  in  the  United  States  is  the 
Denver  and  Rio  Grande  at  Marshall  Pass — 10,852  feet. 

The  longest  American  railroad  tunnel  is  the  Hoosac 
Tunnel  on  the  Fitchburg  Railroad — four  and  three- 
'  quarter  miles.  (The  St.  Gothard  Tunnel  in  Europe  is 
over  nine  miles  in  length.) 

There  are  208,749  railroad  bridges  in  the  United 
States,  spanning  3,213  miles. 


The  longest  railroad  bridge  span  In  the  United  States 
is  the  Cantilever  span  in  the  Poughkeepsie  bridge  over 
the  Hudson  river — 548  feet. 

The  highest  railroad  bridge  in  the  United  States  is 
the  Kinzua  Viaduct  on  the  Erie  road — 305  feet  high. 

The  Manhattan  Elevated  Railroad,  of  New  York 
carried  the  largest  number  of  passengers  of  any 
American  road  last  year — 525,000  daily,  or  191,625,000 
yearly. 

The  Illinois  Central  carried  the  largest  number  of 
commuters — 4, 828,128  in  1887. 

A  steel  rail  lasts,  with  average  wear,  about  eighteen 
years. 

The  Fastest  Locomotive  Ever  Built. 

The  largest  and  fastest  passenger  engine  ever  built, 
was  by  the  Rhode  Island  Locomotive  Works,  for  the 
New  York,  Providence  and  Boston  Railroad  Company. 
The  main  driving  wheels  are  six  feet  in  diameter,  and 
set  but  seven  feet  six  inches  apart.  This  arrangement 
makes  her  run  easily  on  curves.  The  cylinders  are 
eighteen  inches  in  diameter,  with  twenty-four-inch 
stroke.  The  boiler  is  fifty-four  inches  in  diameter  at 
the  smoke-stack,  with  a  wagon  top.  It  extends  to  the 
very  end  of  the  cab,  and  necessitates  the  elevation  of 
the  engineer's  seat  to  a  height  far  above  the  fire  door. 
The  fire  requires  three  tons  of  coal  before  the  engine 
pulls  out  of  the  round-house  to  make  her  trips,  and 
four  tons  will  be  carried  on  the  tender.  The  tank  of 
the  latter  will  hold  4,000  gallons  of  water,  and  the 
total  weight  of  the  engine  proper  is  93,000  to  95,000 
pounds.  The  weight  on  the  driving  wheel  will  be 
66,000  pounds,  or  4,800  more  than  the  Connecticut. 
She  looks  to  be  enormously  high  as  she  sets  up  well  in 
the  air,  and  her  short  smoke-stack  adds  to  her  appar 
ent  height.  Everything  about  her  is  steel.  There  is 
not  a  particle  of  brass  or  bright  work  about  her.  She 
will  make  the  run  from  Providence  to  Groton,  Conn., 
a  distance  of  62.5  miles,  including  a  dead  stop  at 
Mystic  drawbridge,  as  required  by  the  statutes  of 
Connecticut,  in  just  62.5  minutes,  pulling  at  the  same 
time  eight  cars,  four  of  which  are  Pullmans. 

The  Seven  Wonders  of  the  World. 

The  "pyramids  "  first,  which  in  Egypt  were  laid: 
Next  "  Babylon's  garden,"  for  Amytis  made ; 
Then  "  Mausolo's  tomb  "  of  affection  and  guilt ; 
Fourth,  the  "temple  of  Dian,"  in  Ephesus  built; 
The  "colossus  of  Rhodes,"  cast  in  brass,  to  the  suaf 
Sixth,  "Jupiter's  statue,"  by  Phidias  done: 
The  "  pharos  of  Egypt "  comes  last,  we  are  told, 
Or  the  "  palace  of  Cyrus,"  cemented  with  gold. 

The  Wonders  of  the  New  World. 

The  group  of  natural  objects  that  have  been  classed 
as  the  seven  wonders  of  the  new  world  are,  Niagara 
Falls,  Yellowstone  Park,  the  Mammoth  Cave,  the 


554 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Canons  and  Garden  of  the  Gods,  Colorado,  the  Giant 
Trees,  California,  the  Natural  Bridge,  Virginia,  and 
the  Yoseniite  Valley. 

Dates  of  First  Occurrences. 

Postoffices  were  first  established  in  1464. 

Printed  musical  notes  were  first  used  in  1473. 

The  first  watches  were  made  at  Nuremberg  in  1477. 

America  was  discovered  in  1492. 

The  first  printing  press  was  set  up  at  Copenhagen  in 

1493- 

Durer  gave  the  world  a  prophecy  of  future  wood- 
cngraving  in  1527. 

Jergens  set  the  spinning  wheel  in  motion  in  1530. 

Modern  needles  first  came  into  use  in  1545. 

The  first  knives  were  used  in  England,  and  the  first 
wheeled  carriages  in  France,  in  1559. 

Religious  liberty  was  granted  to  the  Huguenots  in 
France  in  1562,  and  was  followed  by  the  massacre  of 
St.  Bartholomew  in  1572. 

Cervantes  wrote  Don  Quixote  in  1573. 

The  first  newspaper  was  published  in  England  in 
1588. 

Telescopes  were  invented  in  1590. 

The  first  printing  press  in  the  United  States  was  in 
troduced  in  1629. 

The  first  air-pump  was  made  in  1650. 

The  first  newspaper  advertisement  appeared  in  1652. 

The  first  copper  cent  was  coined  in  New  Haven  in 
1687. 

The  first  steam-engine  on  this  continent  came  from 
England  in  1753. 

The  first  balloon  ascent  was  made  in  1783. 

The  first  society  for  the  Promotion  of  Christian 
Knowledge  was  organized  in  1698. 

The  first  attempt  to  manufacture  pins  in  this  country 
was  made  soon  after  the  war  of  1812. 

The  first  prayer-book  of  Edward  VI  came  into  use 
by  authority  of  Parliament  on  Whit-Sunday,  1549. 

Glass  windows  first  introduced  into  England  in  the 
eighth  century. 

The  first  steamboat  plied  the  Hudson  in  1807. 

The  first  sawmakers'  anvil  was  brought  to  America 
in  1819. 

The  first  use  of  a  locomotive  in  this  country  was  in 
1820. 

Kerosene  was  first  used  for  lighting  purposes  in  1826. 

The  first  horse  railroad  was  built  in  1826-7. 

The  first  lucifer  match  was  made  in  1829, 

The  first  iron  steamship  was  built  in  1830. 

The  first  steel  pen  was  made  in  1830. 

Omnibuses  were  introduced  in  New  York  in  1830. 

Ships  were  first  "  copper-bottomed"  in  1837. 
1     Envelopes  were  first  used  in  1839. 

Anaesthesia  was  discovered  in  1844. 

Coaches  were  first  used  in  England  in  1569. 

The  first  steel-plate  was  discovered  in  1830. 


The  Franciscans  arrived  in  England  in  1224. 

The  entire  Hebrew  Bible  was  printed  in  1488. 

Gold  was  first  discovered  in  California  in  1848. 

The  first  telescope  was  used  in  England  in  1608. 

Christianity  was  introduced  into  Japan  in  1549. 

First  almanac  printed  by  George  Von  Furbach  in 
1460. 

Percussion  arms  were  used  in  the  United  States 
Army  in  1830. 

The  first  glass  factory  in  the  United  States  was  built, 
in  1780. 

The  first  complete  sewing-machine  was  patented  by 
Elias  Howe,  Jr.,  in  1846. 

The  first  temperance  society  in  this  country  was 
organized  in  Saratoga  County,  N.  Y.,  in  March,  1808. 

The  first  coach  in  Scotland  was  brought  thither  in 
1501,  when  Queen  Mary  came  from  France.  It  be 
longed  to  Alexander  Lord  Seaton. 

The  first  daily  newspaper  appeared  in  1702.  The 
first  newspaper  printed  in  the  United  States  was  pub 
lished  in  Boston  on  September  25,  1790. 

The  first  telegraphic  instrument  was  successfully 
operated  by  S.  F.  B.  Morse,  the  inventor,  in  1835, 
though  its  utility  was  not  demonstrated  to  the  world 
until  1842. 

The  first  Union  flag  was  unfurled  on  the  ist  of  Janu 
ary  >  J??^)  over  the  camp  at  Cambridge.  It  had  thirteen 
stripes  of  white  and  red,  and  retained  the  English  cross 
in  one  corner. 

When  Captain  Cook  first  visited  Tahiti,  the  natives 
were  using  nails  of  wood,  bone,  shell,  and  stone. 
When  they  saw  iron  nails,  they  fancied  them  to  be 
shoots  of  some  very  hard  wood,  and,  desirous  of  secur 
ing  such  a  valuable  commodity,  they  planted  them  in 
t1  .eir  gardens. 

At  first  the  watc..i  was  about  the  size  of  a  dessert- 
plate.  It  had  weights,  and  was  used  as  a  "  pocket 
clock."  The  first  great  improvement,  the  substitution 
of  sprngs  for  weights,  was  in  1540.  The  earliest 
springs  were  not  coiled,  but  only  straight  pieces  of 
steel.  Early  watches  had  only  one  hand,  and  being 
wound  up  twice  a  day,  they  could  not  be  expected  to 
keep  the  time  nearer  than  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  in 
the  twelve  hours.  The  dials  were  of  silver  or  brass, 
the  cases  had  no  crystals,  but  opened  at  the  back  and 
front,  and  were  four  or  five  inches  in  diameter.  A 
p^-ain  watch  cost  the  equivalent  of  $  1600  in  our  cur 
rency,  and  after  one  was  ordered,  it  took  a  year  to 
make  it. 

Origin  of  Vegetation. 

Spinach  is  a  Persian  plant. 
Horseradish  is  a  native  of  England. 
Melons  were  found  originally  in  Asia. 
Filberts  originally  came  from  Greece. 
Quinces  originally  came  from  Corinth. 
The  turnip  originally  came  from  Rome. 


IMPORTANT    FACTS    FOR    REFERENCE. 


555 


The  peach  originally  came  from  Persia. 

Sage  is  a  native  of  the  south  of  Europe. 

Sweet  marjoram  is  a  native  of  Portugal. 

The  bean  is  said  to  be  a  native  of  Egypt. 

Damsons  originally  came  from  Damascus. 

The  nasturtium  came  originally  from  Peru. 

The  pea  is  a  native  of  the  south  of  Europe. 

Ginger  is  a  native  of  the  East  and  West  Indies, 

The  gooseberry  is  indigenous  to  Great  Britain. 

Coriander  seed  came  originally  from  the  East. 

Apricots  are  indigenous  to  the  plains  of  America. 

The  cucumber  was  originally  a  tropical  vegetable. 

The  walnut  is  a  native  of  Persia,  the  Caucasus,  and 
China. 

Capers  originally  grew  wild  in  Greece  and  northern 
Africa. 

Pears  were  originally  brought  from  the  East  by  the 
Romans. 

The  clove  is  a  native  of  the  Malacca  Islands,  as  is 
also  the  nutmeg. 

Cherries  were  known  in  Asia  as  far  back  as  the 
seventeenth  century. 

Garlic  came  to  us  first  from  Sicily  and  the  shores  of 
the  Mediterranean. 

Asparagus  was  originally  a  wild  sea-coast  plant,  and 
is  a  native  of  Great  Britain. 

The  tomato  is  a  native  of  South  America,  and  it 
takes  its  name  from  a  Portugese  word. 

Parsley  is  said  to  have  come  from  Egypt,  and 
mythology  tells  us  it  was  used  to  adorn  the  head  of 
Hercules. 

Apples  were  originally  brought  from  the  East  by  the 
Romans.  The  crab  apple  is  indigenous  to  Great  Britain. 

The  onion  was  almost  an  object  of  worship  with  the 
"Egyptians  2000  years  before  the  Christian  era.  It  first 
came  from  India. 

Cloves  came  to  us  from  the  Indies,  and  take  their 
name  from  the  Latin  clauvis,  meaning  a  nail,  to  which 
they  have  a  resemblance. 

The  cantaloupe  is  a  native  of  America,  and  so  called 
from  the  name  of  a  place  near  Rome,  where  it  was  first 
.cultivated  in  Europe. 

Lemons  were  used  by  the  Romans  to  keep  moths 
from  their  garments,  arid  in  the  time  of  Pliny  they 
were  considered  an  excellent  poison.  They  are  natives 
of  Asia. 

Philosophical  Facts. 

The  greatest  height  at  which  visible  clouds  ever  exist 
tees  not  exceed  ten  miles. 

Air  is  about  eight  hundred  and  fifteen  times  lighter 
than  water. 

The  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  upon  every  square 
foot  of  the  earth  amounts  to  two  thousand  one  hundred 
and  sixty  pounds.  An  ordinary  sized  man,  supposing 
his  surface  to  be  fourteen  square  feet,  sustains  the 


enormous  pressure  of  thirty  thousand  two  hundred 
and  forty  pounds. 

The  barometer  falls  one-tenth  of  an  inch  for  every 
seventy-eight  feet  of  elevation. 

The  violence  of  the  expansion  of  water  when  freez 
ing  is  sufficient  to  cleave  a  globe  of  copper  of  such 
thickness  as  to  require  a  force  of  27,000  pounds  to 
produce  the  same  effect. 

During  the  conversion  of  ice  into  water  one  hundred 
and  forty  degrees  of  heat  are  absorbed.  Water,  when 
converted  into  steam,  increases  in  bulk  eighteen  hun 
dred  times. 

In  one  second  of  time — in  one  beat  of  the  pendulum 
of  a  clock,  light  travels  two  hundred  thousand  miles. 
Were  a  cannon  ball  shot  toward  the  sun,  and  were  it  to 
maintain  full  speed,  it  would  be  twenty  years  in  reach 
ing  it — and  yet  light  travels  through  this  space  in  seven 
or  eight  minutes. 

Strange  as  it  may  appear,  a  ball  of  a  ton  weight  and 
another  of  the  same  material  of  an  ounce  weight,  fall 
ing  from  any  height  will  reach  the  ground  at  the  same 
time. 

The  heat  does  not  increase  as  we  rise  above  the  earth 
nearer  to  the  sun,  but  decreases  rapidly  until,  beyond 
the  regions  of  the  atmosphere,  in  void,  it  is  estimated 
that  the  cold  is  about  seventy  degrees  below  zero.  The 
line  of  perpetual  frost  at  the  equator  is  15,000  feet  alti 
tude  ;  13, ooo  feet  bet  ween  the  tropics;  and  9000  to  4000 
between  the  latitudes  of  forty  degrees  and  forty-nine 
degrees. 

At  a  depth  of  forty-five  feet  under  ground,  the  tem 
perature  of  the  earth  is  uniform  throughout  the  year. 

In  svimmer  time,  the  season  of  ripening  moves 
northward  at  the  rate  of  about  twenty  miles  a  day. 

The  human  ear  is  so  extremely  sensitive  that  it  can 
hear  a  sound  that  lasts  only  the  twenty- four  thousandth 
part  of  a  second.  Deaf  persons  have  sometimes  con 
versed  together  through  rods  of  wood  held  between 
their  teeth,  or  held  to  their  throat  or  breast. 

The  ordinary  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  on  the  sur 
face  of  the  earth  is  two  thousand  one  hundred  and 
sixty-eight  pounds  to  each  square  foot,  or  fifteen 
pounds  to  each  square  inch  ;  equal  to  thirty  perpen 
dicular  inches  of  mercury,  or  thirty-four  and  a  half 
feet  of  water. 

Sound  travels  at  the  rate  of  one  thousand  one  hun 
dred  and  forty-two  feet  per  second— about  thirteen 
miles  in  a  minute.  So  that  if  we  hear  a  clap  of 
thunder  half  a  minute  after  the  flash,  we  may  calcu 
late  that  the  discharge  of  electricity  is  six  and  a  half 
miles  off. 

Lightning  can  be  seen  by  reflection  at  the  distance 
of  two  hundred  miles. 

The  explosive  force  of  closely  confined  gunpowder 
is  six  and  a  half  tons  to  the  square  inch. 


556 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Electricity. 


As  far  back  as  321  B.  C.,  the  ancient  philosopher 
Theophrastus  mentions  the  power  of  amber  to  attract 
straws  and  dry  leaves.  Pliny  in  70  A.  D.,  writes  con 
cerning  the  same  phenomenon,  and  it  is  from  the 
Greek  name  of  "amber,"  pronounced  "elecktron," 
that  we  call  this  phenomenon  "electricity."  Dr.  Gil 
bert,  of  Colchester,  may  be  considered  the  founder  of 
the  science  of  electricity,  for  it  was  he  that  carefully 
repeated  the  observations  of  the  ancients,  and  experi 
mented  in  various  ways  and  published  these  experi 
ments  in  a  book  during  the  period  between  1540  and 
1603.  Sir  Wm.  Watson  (1715  to  1807)  distinctly  an 
nounced  the  theory  of  positive  and  negative  electric 
ity,  which  was  afterwards  elaborated  by  Dr.  Benjamin 
Franklin.  Dr.  Franklin  also  established  the  fact  that 
the  lightning  was  an  electrical  spark,  similar  to  that 
made  by  an  electric  machine  or  Leyden  jar. 
In  1790,  Galvani  discovered  that  the  contact 
of  metals  produced  muscular  contraction  in  the 
legs  of  a  dead  frog,  and  in  1800,  Volta  discovered  the 
art  of  generating  electricity  by  contact  of  metals  with 
damp  cloths.  From  these  we  obtained  the  galvanic 
battery  and  the  voltaic  pile. 

It  remained  with  Prof.  H.  C.  Oersted,  of  Copen 
hagen,  however,  to  bring  forward  the  most  important 
fact,  viz  :  the  magnetic  action  of  the  electrical  current. 
This  was  in  1820.  As  soon  as  the  discovery  reached 
France,  the  eminent  French  philosopher  Ampere  set 
to  work  to  develop  the  important  consequences  it  in 
volved.  Faraday  in  1820,  discovered  electric-magnetic 
rotation.  From  this  time  up,  experimentists  and  the 
orists  were  busy  searching  for  ways  and  means  by 
which  the  electrical  energy  could  be  utilized  as  a  me 
chanical  power,  and  to-day  the  galvanic  battery  and 
electric  dynamo  are  rapidly  ousting  steam,  and  in  a 
thousand  ways  doing  its  work  with  less  noise,  expense 
end  better  results.  Electrical  lighting  is  done  by  means 
of  the  arc  and  incandescent  systems. 

The  Phonograph. 

The  Phonograph  is  a  machine  for  recording  and  then 
transmitting  sounds;  speech,  music,  etc.  It  is  the  in 
vention  of  Thos.  A.  Edison,  the  most  noted  electrician 
of  this  age.  The  phonograph  was  accidentally  discov 
ered.  Mr.  Edison  was  at  work  on  an  apparatus  for 
recording  a  telegraphic  message,  by  having  an  arma- 
titnre  (with  a  needle  fastened  in  one  end)  of  the  sounder 
indentations  on  a  piece  of  tin  foil  wrapped 


I 

firound  a  cylinder.  The  message  would  thus  be  punc 
tured  or  indented  on  this  tin  foil,  then,  by  substituting 
another  needle  —  blunt  —  for  the  sharp  one  and  turning 
the  cylinder,  the  armature  would  be  vibrated  as  the 
needle  entered  into  and  passed  out  of  the  indentations. 
While  experimenting,  he  turned  the  cylinder  very 
tapidly,  And  instead  of  a  succession  of  "clicks,"  a 


|  musical  sound  was  produced.     He  seized  the  idest,  A*d 
the  Edison  phonograph  is  the  result. 

The  perfected  phonograph  of  to-day  consists  of  6 
cylinder  of  wax,  or  other  plastic  material,  which  is  re- 
volved  either  by  hand,  foot  power  or  an  electric  motor. 
This  cylinder,  called  the  phonogram,  is  used  for  re 
cording  the  sound.  This  is  done  by  a  diaphragm— 
such  as  is  used  in  a  telephone— into  the  centre  of  which 
is  fastened  a  sharp  needle,  which  rests  upon  and  just 
touches  the  phonogram.  When  the  words  are  spoken 
the  diaphragm  vibrates,  moving  this  needle  up  and 
down,  and  a  series  of  indentations  are  made  in  a  spiral 
line  on  the  phonogram,  which  is  turning  around  about 
eighty-five  times  a  minute.  To  make  the  phonograph 
speak,  or  repeat  the  words,  another  diaphragm,  similar 
to  the  first  or  recorder,  but  having  a  blunt  instead  of  a 
sharp  needle,  is  placed  at  the  starting  point  and  th« 
phonogram  made  to  revolve  ;  of  course,  as  the  needle 
passes  over  the  indentations  it  vibrate?  the  diaphragm 
and  the  words  are  reproduced — as  in  a  telephone. 

The  phonograph  faithfully  reproduces  music,  whis 
tling,  singing,  speech,  or  any  sounds,  and  the  phono 
grams  can  be  packed  into  a  mailing  tube  and  sent  all 
over  the  world  to  be  used  as  often  as  desired. 

The  Telephone. 

In  1831,  Wheatstone  showed  that  when  the  sounding 
boards  of  two  musical  instruments  were  connected  to 
gether  by  a  rod  of  pine  wood,  a  tune  played  ou  one  will 
be  faithfully  reproduced  by  the  other.  Somewhat  latet 
a  toy,  called  the  Lovers'  String,  was  made,  and  is  the 
simplest  form  of  a  mechanical  telephone.  The  toy 
consisted  o/  two  tin  cups,  the  bottoms  made  of  parch 
ment  or  cat-gut  tightly  stretched  like  a  drum  head,  and 
connected,  one  with  tlie  other,  by  a  string  or  cord* 
When  the  string  was  drawn  taut,  sounds,  such  as  those 
of  ordinary  speech,  produced  in  front  of  one  of  the 
cups  were  transmitted  along  the  string  to  the  other  cup 
and  reproduced  there.  This  was  the  first  telephone. 
At  various  times  between  1831  and  1876,  electricians 
and  scientists  had  experimented  with  electro-magnets 
as  a  means  of  transmitting  sounds  a  long  distance. 
Charles  Bourseul,  in  1854,  published  an  article  on  the 
electrical  transmission  of  speech,  and  recommended 
the  use  of  a  flexible  plate  at  the  source  of  sound,  which 
would  vibrate  in  response  to  the  atmospheric  pulsations* 
and  thus  open  and  shut  an  electrical  circuit,  and  would 
thus  operate,  by  an  electro-magnet,  upon  a  similar  plat* 
at  a  distance  connected  by  wire  with  the  first,  causing 
it  to  give  out  as  many  pulsations  as  there  were  breakc 
in  the  circuit. 

In  1876,  Alexander  Graham  Bell  first  exhibited  th* 
speaking  telephone  at  the  Philadelphia  Centennial  Ex 
hibition.  It  is  this  telephone,  greatly  improved  how* 
ever,  which  is  now  in  common  use.  This  telephone 
consists  of  a  compound  permanent  magnet  fitted  into 
the  centre  of  a  b»rd  "ubber  tube  and  carrying,  at  otfc* 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


557 


«nd,  a  shore  electro-magnet.  In  front  of  this  electro 
magnet  is  fixed  a  thin,  soft  iron  disk,  about  one  and 
three-fourths  inches  in  diameter.  This  disk  lies  at  the 
end  of  the  rubber  tube,  where  the  tube  is  formed  into 
a  mouth  piece.  The  action  of  telephoning  with  this 
telephone  is  very  simple.  The  sound,  as  ordinary 
.speech,  is  made  in  the  mouth  piece.  The  atmosphere 
conveys  the  sound — vibrations  against  the  thin,  iron 
lisk  (commonly  called  the  diaphragm).  The  disk 
vibrates  in  sympathy,  aud  coming  against  the  electro 
magnet,  breaks  and  opens  the  electric  circuit  with 
every  vibration.  By  means  of  the  connecting  wire, 
the  electro-magnet  in  the  distant  telephone  causes  the 
diaphragm  to  vibrate  corresponding  to  the  breaks  in 
the  current.  This  of  course  vibrates  the  atmosphere 
and  the  pulsations  are  conveyed  to  the  ear.  The  tele 
phone  thus  described  is  how  used  as  a  receiver.  The 
transmitter,  invented  and  improved  by  Edison  and 
Blake,  is  combined  with  the  Bell  telephone,  and 
makes  the  telephone  of  general  use.  Telephonic 
communications  have  been  held  between  Chicago  and 
New  York,  but  not  with  overwhelming  success. 

Edison's    Mimeograph. 

The  Mimeograph  was  designed  and  patented  by 
Mr.  Thomas  A.  Edison.  In  designing  the  mimeo 
graph,  Mr.  Edison  took  as  his  fundamental  principle, 
the  stylus  or  point,  the  writing  impliment  of  man 
since  the  art  was  first  invented.  It  is  the  natural  tool 
by  which  the  hand  can  trace  characters,  and  it  is  this 
stylus  or  point  peculiar  to  the  mimeograph  in  the  line 
of  duplicating  machines,  which  created  for  it  such  a 
decided  and  permanent  popularity. 

With  the  stylus  as  first  principle,  Mr.  Edison  built 
the  mimeograph,  with  reference  to  the  stylus  as  the 
writing  instrument,  designing  the  other  parts  to  meet 
its  requirements. 

The  mimeograph  belongs  to  the  stencil  class  of 
duplicating  machines,  which,  as  is  well  known,  is  the 
best  type  of  such  devices.  The  stencil  is  made  on  a 
sheet  of  fine  specially  manufactured  tissue  paper,  which 
is  coated  on  one  side  with  a  film  of  sensitive  material. 

The  cutting  agent  of  the  mimeograph  is  a  plate  of 
fine  tool  steel,  upon  which  are  cut  intersecting  corru 
gations,  numbering  200  to  the  inch,  thus  making  on 
the  plate  a  surface  of  small  sharp  points,  so  fine  and 
minute  that  a  magnifying  glass  is  required  to  bring 
them  distinctly  to  the  eye,  upon  this  steel  plate,  which 
is  imbedded  in  a  table  or  plate  of  polished  slate,  the 
svieet  of  sensitive  paper  is  placed,  and  the  stencil  is 
f1  jrmed  by  writing  on  the  paper  over  the  steel  plate 
with  the  stylus,  which  is  made  of  tempered  steel  and 
nickel  plated. 

As  the  steel  point  of  the  stylus  ( which  is  ground  to 
a  round  or  smooth  point)  passes  over  the  sensitive 
paper,  it  presses  the  paper  against  and  upon  the  steel 


plate,  and  the  fine  sharp  points  puncture  it  from  the 
under  side  making  a  series  of  orifices  or  holes,  each 
one  a  two-hundredth  part  of  an  inch  from  the  next, 
in  the  lines  of  the  writing. 

The  point  of  the  stylus,  although  tapered  to  the 
size  of  a  nicely  sharpened  lead  pencil,  really  rests  on 
three  of  the  cutting  points  of  the  writing  plate  (as  the 
corrugated  steel  is  termed)  at  one  time. 

It  thus  glides  easily  and  smoothly  over  the  rough 
ened  surface  without  tearing  the  paper,  but  still  with 
just  enough  friction  to  make  the  act  of  writing  a 
pleasant  operation,  almost  identical  to  that  done  by 
a  medium  hard  lead  pencil. 

After  the  stencil  is  made,  the  next  operation  is  to 
prepare  the  stencil  sheet  ( as  the  sensitive  paper  is  now 
called)  for  the  purpose  of  printing  copies  of  which  it 
is  the  original. 

The  table  or  plate  of  slate  which  embodies  the  steel 
writing  plate,  is  known  as  the  base-board  of  the 
mimeograph.  Connected  with  this  base-board,  work 
ing  on  pivots,  but  easily  separated  from  it  is  a  frame 
of  wood,  which  holds  in  it  a  brass  frame  kept  in  place 
by  tightening  catches.  The  stencil  sheet  is  placed  in 
the  wooden  frame,  and  the  brass  frame  placed  over  it, 
and  pressed  into  its  slot  and  then  held  tht.-e  by  the 
tightening  catches. 

This  serves  to  stretch  the  stencil  sheet  tight  and 
smooth  like  a  drum  head.  When  this  is  done,  the 
frame  is  attached  to  the  base-board,  and  the  mimeo 
graph  is  ready  for  work. 

The  ink  is  squeezed  from  its  collapsible  tube  upon 
a  slate  used  for  that  purpose  and  a  hand  roller  made 
of  a  peculiar  composition  is  passed  over  it,  spreading 
the  ink  evenly  over  the  slate,  and  at  the  same  time 
charging  the  roller. 

The  sheet  of  paper  upon  which  the  copy  is  to  be 
printed,  is  placed  upon  a  blotter  resting  on  the  base 
board  beneath  the  stencil  sheet,  and  the  ink  roller  is 
passed  over  the  stencil  sheet,  forcing  the  ink  through 
the  perforations  and  upon  the  impression  paper,  thus 
making  a  print.  This  last  operation  is  repeated  until 
the  required  number  of  copies  are  obtained. 

The  modus  operandi  just  described,  is  for  the  pur 
pose  of  reduplicating  autographic  matter. 

Edison's  Kinetoscope. 

Perhaps  the  simplest  statement  of  the  principle, 
upon  which  this  instrument  is  constructed,  would  be 
to  call  it  the  reproduction  of  motion.  The  observer 
looks  through  a  glass  into  a  small  cabinet  aud  appears 
to  see  living  figures.  These  may  be  men,  or  animals, 
and  they  are  in  action.  Just  as  the  phonograph  makes 
a  faithful  record  of  sounds,  so  the  kinetoscope  gives  us 
a  reproduction  of  the  actions  of  living  creatures. 

The  following  is  what  Mr.  Edison  himself  says  ot/ 
the  subject:  "  In  the  year  1887  the  idea  occurred  to 


558 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


me  that  it  was  possible  to  devise  an  instrument  which 
should  do  for  the  eye  what  the  phonograph  does  for 
the  ear,  and  that  by  a  combination  of  the  cwo  ali 
motion  and  sound  could  be  recorded  and  reproduced 
simultaneously.  This  idea,  the  germ  of  which  came 
from  the  little  toy  called  the  zoetrope,  and  the  work 
of  Muybridge,  Marie  and  others,  has  now  been  accom 
plished,  so  that  every  change  of  facial  expression  can 
be  recorded  and  reproduced  life  size.  The  kinetscope 
is  only  a  small  model  illustrating  the  present  stage  of 
progress,  but  with  each  succeeding  month  new  possi 
bilities  are  brought  into  view. 

"I  believe  that  in  coming  years  by  my  own  work 
and  that  of  others,  who  will  doubtless  enter  the  field, 
grand  opera  c..  -»  be  given  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera 
House  at  New  York,  without  any  material  change 
from  the  original,  and  with  artists  and  musicians  long 
since  dead." 

After  the  instrument  was  perfected  the  succession 
of  pictures  was  found  to  be  rapid,  and  those  instru 
ments  exhibited  in  nearly  all  our  towns  are  found  to 
work  most  satisfactorily. 

Facts  About  the  Sun. 

THE  SUN'S  UGHT 

fo  equal  to  5,563  wax-candles  held  at  a  distance  of 
one  foot  from  the  c-o.  It  would  require  800,000  full 
moons  to  produce  a  day  as  brilliant  as  one  of  cloudless 
Sunshine. 

THE  SUN'S  HEAT. 

The  amount  of  heat  we  receive  annually  is  sufficient 
fCr  melt  a  layer  of  ice  thirty-eight  yards  in  thickness, 
extending  over  the  whole  earth.  Yet  the  sunbeam  is 
only  1-300,000  part  as  intense  as  it  is  at  the  surface  of 
the  sun.  Moreover,  the  heat  and  light  stream  off  into 
space  equally  in  every  direction.  Of  this  vast  flood 
only  one  twenty-three  hundred  millionth  part  reaches 
the  earth.  It  is  said  that  if  the  heat  of  the  sun  were 
produced  by  the  burning  of  coal,  it  would  require  a 
layer  ten  feet  in  thickness,  extending  over  the  whole 
sun,  to  feed  the  flame  a  single  hour.  Were  the  sun  a 
solid  body  of  coal,  it  would  burn  up  at  this  rate  in 
forty-six  centuries.  Sir  John  Herschel  says  that  if  a 
solid  cylinder  of  ice  forty-five  miles  in  diameter  and 
200,000  miles  long  were  plunged,  end  first,  into  the 
sun,  it  would  melt  in  a  second  of  time. 
THE  SUN'S  DIMENSIONS. 

Tts  diameter  is  about  850,000  miles.  Let  us  try  to 
understand  this  amount  by  comparison. 

A  mountain  upon  the  surface  of  the  sun,  to  bear  the 
same  proportion  to  the  globe  itself  as  the  Dhawalaghiri 
of  the  Himalayas  does  the  earth,  would  have  to  be 
about  bix  hundred  miles  high. 

Again :  suppose  the  sun  were  hollow,  and  the  earth 
placed  at  the  center,  not  only  would  there  be  room  for 
\'he  moon  to  revolve  in  its  regular  orbit  within  the 


shell,   but  that   would  stretch  off  in  every  direction 
200,000  miles  beyond. 

Its  volume  is  1,245 ,000  times  that  of  the  earth,  that  is 
itwouldtake  1,245,000  earths  to  make  a  globe  the  size 
of  the  sun.  Its  mass  is  674  times  that  of  all  the  rest 
of  the  solar  system.  Its  weight  may  be  expressed  io 
tons  thus, 

1,910,278,070,000,000,0  00,000,000,000, 
a  number  which  is  meaningless  to  our  imagination 
but  yet  represents  a  force  of  attraction  which  holds  out 
own  earth  and  all  the  planets  steadily  in  their  places  r 
while  it  fills  the  mind  with  an  indescribable  awe  as  we 
think  of  that  Being  wrho  made  the  sun,  and  holds  it  in 
the  very  palm  of  his  hand. 

Facts  as  to  Sound. 

In  air,  sound  travels  from  1,130  to  1,140  feet  pel 
second.  In  water  it  passes  at  the  rate  of  4,700  feet  per 
second.  A  bell  sounded  under  water  may  be  heard, 
under  water  at  1,200  feet  distance.  Sounds  are  distinct 
at  twice  the  distance  on  water  that  they  are  on  land. 
On  Table  Mountain,  a  mile  above  Cape  Town,  every- 
noise  in  it,  and  even  words  may  be  heard  distinctly. 
Dr.  Jatnieson  says  that  in  calm  weather  he  heard' 
every  word  of  a  sermon  at  the  distance  of  two  miles.. 
The  sound  of  a  tuning  fork  may  be  distinctly  heard  at 
a  distance  of  200  yards,  by  connecting  the  stem  by- 
pack-threads  with  the  ear. 

Type-Writers. 

Perhaps  the  earliest  form  of  a  type-writer  is  a  rude 
machine  invented  in  England  in  1714,  without  any, 
practical  fruits.  M.  Foucault  sent  to  the  Paris  Exposi 
tion  of  1855,  a  writing  machine  for  the  blindt  but  the 
first  of  what  are  now  popularly  known  as  tvpe-writers, 
was  patented  in  1868  by  C.  L,.  Sholcs,  of  Wisconsin. 
This  has  been  improved  until  now  it  is  possible  to 
attain  a  speed  of  seventy-five  to  eighty  words  a  minute 
in  writing  with  this  machine,  which  is  fast  enough  for 
reporting  speeches.  The  principal  advantages  gained 
are  rapidity  of  execution  and  legibility.  A  type-writer 
can  write  with  both  hands  and  several  fingers  in  instant 
succession,  every  letter  being  made  with  a  single  light 
touch  instead  of  requiring  from  three  to  seven  distinct 
strokes  and  dots,  as  in  ordinary  script. 

Lightning-  Conductors. 

Copper  is  the  best  material  for  conductors.  When 
circumstances  are  not  such  as  to  promote  corrosion, 
iron  may  be  used,  but  of  larger  dimensions.  Its  con 
ductivity  is  about  one-fifth  that  of  copper. 

Copper  lightning  conductors  should  be  of  the  follow 
ing  dimensions : 

Rods  j4  an  inch  in  diameter;  tubes  $i  of  an  inch  in 
diameter,  *4  of  an  inch  thick,  or  bands  i}4  inches  wide, 
%  of  an  inch  thick. 

Iron  lightning  conductors  should  be  either  solid  rods 
i  inch  in  diameter,  or  bands  *  inches  wide,  ^i  of  an 
inch  think. 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


559 


Lightning  conductors  afford  protection  over  a  circle 
tvhose  radius  equals  their  height  from  the  ground  ; 
formerly  considered  twice. 

Average   Annual    Rainfall    in    the    United 
States. 


Inches.    PLACE. 


Neah  Bay,  Wash.  Ter...i23 

Sitka,  Alaska 83 

Ft.  Haskins,  Oregon...  66 

Mt.  Vernon,  Alabama..  66 

Baton  Rouge,  La 60 

Meadow  Valley,  Cal....  57 

Ft.  Tonson,  Indian  Ter.  57 

Ft.  Myers,  Florida 56 

Washington,  Arkansas.  54 

Huntsville,  Alabama...  54 

Natchez,  Mississippi....  53 

New  Orleans,  La 51 

Savannah,  Georgia 48 

Springdale,  Kentucky..  48 

Fortress  Monroe,  Va...  47 

Memphis,  Tennessee...  45 

Newark,  New  Jersey...  44 

Boston,  Massachusetts..  44 

Brunswick,   Maine 44 

Cincinnati,  Ohio 44 

New  Haven,  Conn 44 

Philadelphia,  Pa 44 

Charleston,  S.  Carolina  43 

New  York  City,  N.  Y..  43 

Gaston,  N.  Carolina 43 

Richmond,  Indiana 43 

Marietta,  Ohio 43 

St.  Louis,  Mis.     iri 43 

Muscatine,  Iowa 42 

Baltimore,  Maryland...  41 

New  Bedford,  Mass 41 

Providence,  R.  1 41 

Ft.  Smith,  Arkansas —  40 


Inches. 


Hanover,  N.  H 40 

Ft.  Vancouver 38 

Cleveland,  Ohio 37 

Pittsburgh,  Pa 37 

Washington,  D.  C 37 

White  Sulph'r  Spgs.,Va.37 
Ft.  Gibson,  Indian  Ter._36 

Key  West,  Florida 36 

Peoria,  Illinois 35 

Burlington,  Vermont.... 34 

Buffalo,  New  York 33 

Ft.  Brown,  Texas 33 

Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan... 31 

Detroit,  Michigan 30 

Milwaukee,  Wisconsin..3o 
Penn  Yan,  New  York... 28 

Ft.  Kearney 25 

Ft.  Suelling,  Minnesota25 
SaltLa  <e  City, Utah  Ter.23 

Mackinac,  Michigan 23 

San  Francisco ,  Cal 21 

Dallas,  Oregon 21 

Sacramento,  California..2i 
Ft.  Massachusetts,  Col...  17 
Ft.  Marcy.New  Mex.  T.i6 
Ft.  Randall;  Dakota  T...i6 
Ft.  Defiance,  Arizona....  14 
Ft.  Craig,  New  Mex.  T.  1 1 
San  Diego,  California....  9 
Ft.  Colville,  Wash.  Ter..  9 

Ft.  Bliss,  Texas 9 

Ft.  Bridger,  Utah  Ter...  6 
Ft.  Garland,  Colorado...  6 


Averag-e   Annual   Temperature   in   United 
States. 


Place  of 
Observation. 


Average 
Temperature. 


Tucson,  Arizona 69 

Jacksonville,  Florida 69 

New  Orleans,  La 69 

Austin, Texas 67 

Mobile,  Alabama 66 

Jackson,  Mississippi 64 

Little  Rock,  Arkansas... 63 
Columbia,  S.  Carolina... 62 
Ft.  Gibson,  Indian  Ter..6o 
Raleigh,  North  Carolinasg 

Atlanta,  Georgia 58 

Nashville,  Tennessee 58 

Richmond,  Virginia 57 

Louisville,  Kentucky. ...56 

San  Francisco,  Cal 55 

Washington,  D.  C 55 

St.  Louis,  Missouri 55 

Baltimore,  Maryland 54 

Harrisburg,  Pa 54 

'Wilmington,  Delaware.-53 

Trenton,  New  Jersey 53 

Columbus,  Ohio 53 

Portland,  Oregon 53 

Ft.  Boise,  Idaho 52 


Place  of 
Observation. 


Average 
Temperature. 


Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 52 

Romney,  West  Virginias  2 
Indianapolis,  Indiana... 51 
Leavenworth,  Kansas,... 51 
Sante  Fe,  NewMex.Ter.5i 

Steilacoom,  W.  Ter 51 

Hartford,  Connecticut. ..50 

Springfield,  Illinois 50 

Camp  Scott,  Nevada 50 

Des  Moines,  Iowa 49 

Omaha,  Nebraska 49 

Denver,  Colorado 48 

Boston,  Massachusetts... 48 

Albany,  New  York 48 

Providence,  R.  1 48 

Detroit,  Michigan 47 

Ft.  Randall,  Dakota  Ter. 47 

Sitka,  Alaska 46 

Concord,  N.  H 46 

Augusta,  Maine 45 

Madison,  Wisconsin 45 

Helena,  Montana  Ter... 43 
Montpelier,  Vermont.... 43 
St.  Paul,  Minnesota 42 


The  Derivations  of  the  Names  of  the 
Months. 

JANUARY. — The  Roman  Janus  presided  over  the  be 
ginning  of  everything  ;  hence  the  first  month  of  the 
year  was  called  after  him. 

FEBRUARY. — The  Roman  festival  Februs  was  held 
on  the  I5th  day  of  this  month,  in  honor  of  Lupercus, 
the  god  of  fertility. 

MARCH. — Named  from  the  Roman  god  of  war, 
Mars. 

APRII,. — Latin,  Aprilis,  probably  derived  from 
aperire,  to  open  ;  because  spring  generally  begins  and 
the  buds  open  in  this  month. 

MAY. — Latin,  Maius,  probably  derived  from  Maia,  a 
femine  divinity  worshiped  at  Rome  on  the  first  day  of 
this  month. 

JUNE. — Juno,  a  Roman  divinity  worshiped  as  the 
Queen  of  Heaven. 

JUI,Y  (Julius). — Julius  Caesar  was  born  in  this 
month. 

AUGUST. — Named  by  the  Emperor  Augustus  Caesar, 
B.  C.  30,  after  himself,  as  he  regarded  it  a  fortunate 
month,  being  that  in  which  he  had  gained  several  vic 
tories. 

SEPTEMBER. — Latin,  septem  or  7.  September  was 
the  seventh  month  in  the  old  Roman  calendar. 

OCTOBER. — Latin,  octo.  Eighth  month  of  the  old 
Roman  year. 

NOVEMBER. — Latin,  novem,  or  9.  November  was 
the  ninth  month  in  the  old  Roman  year. 

DECEMBER. — Latin,  decem,  or  10.  December  was 
the  tenth  month  of  the  early  Roman  year.  About  the 
2 ist  of  this  month  the  sun  enters  the  Tropic  of  Capri 
corn,  and  forms  the  winter  solstice. 

Days  of  the  Week. 

SUNDAY. — Saxon,  Sunnandseg,  day  of  the  sun. 

MONDAY. — German,  Montag,  day  of  the  moon. 

TUESDAY. — Ang-Saxon,  Tiwesdseg,  from  Tw,  the  god 
of  war. 

WEDNESDAY. — Ang-Saxon,  Wodnesdaeg,  from  Odin, 
the  god  of  storms. 

THURSDAY. — Danish,  Thor,  the  god  of  thunder. 

FRIDAY. — Saxon,  Frigedaeg,  day  of  Freya,  goddess 
of  marriage. 

SATURDAY. — Day  of  Saturn,  the  god  of  time. 

The  names  of  the  seven  days  of  the  week  originated 
with  the  Egyptian  astronomers.  They  gave  them  the 
names  of  the  sun,  moon  and  five  planets  :  viz.,  Mars, 
Mercury,  Jupiter,  Venus  and  Saturn. 

The  Chinese  and  Thibetans  have  a  week  of  five  days* 
named  after  iron,  wood,  water,  feathers  and  earth. 

Principal  Exports  of  Various  Countries. 

ARABIA.— Coffee,  aloes,  myrrh,  frankincense,  gum 
arabic. 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


BELGIUM. — Grain,  flax,  hops,  woolens,  linens,  laces, 
various  manufactures. 

BRAZIL. — Cotton,  sugar,  coffee,  tobacco,  gold,  dia 
monds,  wheat  and  dry- goods. 

CANADA,  NOVA  SCOTIA  AND  NEW  BRUNSWICK. — 
Flour,  furs,  lumber,  fish. 

CAPE  COLONY. — Brandy,  wine,  ostrich  feathers, 
hides,  tallow. 

CENTRAL  AMERICA. — Logwood,  mahogany,  indigo, 
cocoa. 

CHILI. — Silver,  gold,  copper,  wheat,  hemp,  hides, 
sugar,  cotton,  fruits. 

CHINA. — Tea,  silks,  nankeens,  porcelain,  opium, 
articles  of  ivory  and  pearl. 

DENMARK. — Grain,  horses,  cattle,  beef,  pork,  but 
ter,  cheese. 

EASTERN,  WESTERN  AND  SOUTHERN  AFRICA. — 
Gold,  ivory,  ostrich  feathers. 

EGYPT. — Rice,  grain,  linseed,  fruits,  indigo,  cotton, 
sugar. 

ECUADOR  AND  NEW  GRENADA. — Coffee,  cotton, 
indigo,  cocoa,  fruits,  sugar. 

FRANCE — Silks,  woolens,  linens,  cotton,  wine, 
brandy,  porcelain,  toys. 

GERMANY. — Linen,  grain,  various  manufacture^  of 
silver,  copper,  etc. 

GREAT  BRITAIN. — Woolens,  cottons,  linens,  hard 
ware,  porcelain,  etc. 

GREENLAND. — Whale  oil,  whale  bone,  seal  skins. 

HINDOOSTAN. — Cotton,  silks,  rice,  sugar,  coffee, 
opium,  indigo. 

HOLLAND. — Fine  lineus,  woolens,  butter,  cheese, 
various  manufactures. 

ITALY. — Silks,  wine,  oil,  grain,  fruits. 

IRELAND. — Linens,  beef,  butter,  tallow,  hides,  pota 
toes,  barley. 

JAPAN. — Silk  and  cotton  goods,  japanware,  porce 
lain. 

MEXICO. — Gold,  silver,  logwood,  cochineal,  fruits. 

PERSIA. — Carpets,  shawls,  wine,  silk,  cotton,  rice, 
rhubarb,  guns,  swords,  etc. 

PERU. — Silver,  gold,  Peruvian  bark,  mercury,  sugar, 
cotton,  fruits. 

RUSSIA. — Hemp,  iron,  linen,  grain,  timber,  furs, 
tallow,  platina. 

SPAIN  AND  PORTUGAL. — Silks,  wool,  wine,  oil, 
fruits,  salt. 

SWEDEN  AND  N^P.WAY. — Iron,  steel,  copper,  tim 
ber,  fish. 

SWITZERLAND. — Watches,  jewelry,  paper,  laces, 
linen,  cotton  qnd  pilk  goods,  etc. 

TURKEY. — Gr^H,  Bruits,  cotton,  oil,  wines,  carpets, 
musiin,  swords. 

UNITED  STATES. — 

Eastern  Statei* — Lumber,  beef,  pork,  fish,  cottons, 
woolens,  etc. 


Middle  States. — Flour,  wheat,  salt,  coal,  cottons, 
woolens. 

Southern  States. — Cotton,  rice,  tobacco,  corn,  lum 
ber,  pitch,  fruits. 

Western  States. — Corn,  wheat,  lead,  coal,  iron,  salt, 
lime,  beef,  pork. 

VENEZUELA. — Sugar,  coffee,  cocoa,  cotton,  indigo, 
fruits. 

WEST  INDIES. — Sugar,  rum,  molasses,  coffee,  spice, 
cotton,  indigo,  fruits. 

Salaries  Paid  to  Heads  of  Governments. 

Various  governments  pay  their  chiefs  as  follows: 
The  United  States,  $50,000  a  year  ;  Persia,  $30,000,000; 
Russia,  $10,000,000 ;  Siani,  $10,000,000 ;  Spain, 
$3,900,000;  Italy,  $3,000,000;  Great  Britain,  $3,000,- 
ooo  ;  Morocco,  $2,500,000  ;  Japan,  $2,300,000;  Egypt, 
$1,575,000;  Germany,  $1,000,000;  Saxony,  $700,- 
ooo ;  Portugal,  Sweden  and  Brazil,  each  $600,000; 
France,  $200,000 ;  Haytit  $240,000 ;  Switzerland, 
$3,000. 

Sovereigns  of  England. 

"  First  William  the  Norman  ; 
Then  William,  his  son, 
Henry,  Stephen  and  Henry, 
Then  Richard  and  John  ; 
Next,  Henry  the  third, 
Edwards,  one,  two,  three, 
And  again,  after  Richard, 
Three  Henrys  we  see. 
Two  Edwards,  third  Richar/ 
If  rightly  I  guess  ; 
Two  Henrys,  sixth  Edward, 
Queen  Mary,  Queen  Bess, 
Then  Jamie,  the  Scotchman, 
Tben  Charles,  whom  they  slew, 
Yet  received  after  Cromwell 
Another  Charles,  too ; 
Next  James  the  second 
Ascended  the  throne  ; 
Then  good  William  and  Mary 
Together  came  on  ; 
'Till  Annie,  Georges  four 
And  fourth  William  all  past ; 
God  sent  us  Victoria, 
May  she  long  be  the  last !" 

The  Smallest   Republic  in  Europe. 

The  honor  which  was  claimed  for  Gersau  belongs  to 
the  independent  hamlet  of  Foust.  This  pretty  group  of 
huts,  situated  a  few  hours  distant  from  Oleron,  in  the 
department  of  the  lower  Pyrenees,  belongs  neither  to 
France  nor  Spain.  It  has  somewhat  over  100  citizens. 
They  have  no  mayor  or  other  civil  official.  They  have 
not  even  an  established  church  or  priest  of  their  own, 
but  attend  at  a  neighboring  village.  The  very  weak 
ness  of  this  little  republic  preserves  it  in  existence. 

What  Royalty  Costs  England. 

As  a  sample  of  what  royalty  costs  the  people  ol 
Great  Britain  alone,  Whitaker  gives  the  following  an 
nuities  to  the  royal  family  : 


7MPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


Her  Majesty- 
Privy  purse  ..........................  £60,000 

Salaries  of  household  ......................  131,260 

Expenses  of  household  ..................  172,500 

Royal  bounty,  etc  ........................    13,500 

Unappropriated  ............................      2,540 

Prince  of  Wales  .......................................... 

Princess  of  Wales  ....................................... 

Prince  Albert  Victor  ................................... 

Crown  Princess  of  Prussia  ............................ 

Duke  of  Edinburgh  ..................................... 

Princess  Christian  of  Schleswig-Holstein  ....... 

Princess  Louise  (Marchioness  of  Lorne)  ......... 

Duke  of  Connaught  ..................................... 

Duke  of  Albany  .......................................... 

Duke  of  Cambridge  ..................................... 

Duchess  of  Mecklenburg-Strelitz  ................... 

Duke  of  Cambridge  ..................................... 

DuchessofTeck  ......................................... 


40,000 

10,000 

10,000 

8,000 

25,000 

6,000 

6,000 

25,000 

25,000 

6,000 

3  ,000 

12,000 

5,°°° 


Total ,£566,800  or  $2,834,000 

Carlisle  Tables  of  Mortality. 

Showing  how  many  persons  out  of  10,000  will  die 
annually,  on  the  average  until  all  are  deceased.      Used 


How  Human  Life  is  Spent. 

According  to  a  French  statistician,  taking  the  mean 
of  many  accounts,  a  man  of  50  years  of  age  has  slept 
6,000  days,  worked  6,500  days,  walked  800  days,  amus 
ed  himself  4,000  days,  was  eating  1,500  days,  was  sick 
500  days,  etc.  He  ate  17,000  pounds  of  bread,  16,000 
pounds  of  meat,  4,600  pounds  of  vegetables,  eggs  and 
fish,  and  drank  7,000  gallons  of  liquid,  namely,  water, 
tea,  coffee,  beer,  wine,  etc.,  altogether. 

How  to  tell  the  Age  of  any  Person. 

There  is  a  good  deal  of  amusement  in  the  following 
magical  table  of  figures.  It  will  enable  you  to  tell  how 
old  the  young  ladies  are.  Just  hand  this  table  to  a 
young  lady,  and  request  her  to  tell  you  in  which  col 
umn  or  columns  her  age  is  contained,  and  add  together 
the  figures  at  the  top  of  the  columns  in  which  her  age 
is  found,  and  you  have  the  great  secret.  Thus,  sup 
pose  her  age  to  be  17,  you  will  find  that  number  in  the 
first  and  fifth  columns  ;  add  the  first  figures  of  these 
two  columns. 


Here  is  the  magic  table 


by  Life  Ii 

isurauce 

Companies. 

I 

Year. 

No.  Alive. 

Deaths. 

Year. 

No.  Alive. 

Deaths. 

3 

At  Birth. 

IO,OOO 

1,539 

41 

5,009 

69 

5 

I 

8,461 

682 

42 

4,940 

71 

7 

2 

7.779 

5°5 

43 

4,869 

71 

9 

3 

7,274 

276 

44 

4,798 

71 

ii 

4 

6,998 

2OI 

45 

4,727 

70 

13 

5 

6,797 

121 

46 

4,657 

69 

15 

6 

6,670 

82 

47 

4,588 

67 

17 

7 

6,594 

58 

48 

4,521 

63 

19 

8 

6,536 

48 

49 

4,458 

61 

21 

9 

6,493 

33 

50 

4,397 

59 

23 

10 

6,460 

29 

5i 

4,338 

62 

25 

Ii 

6,43i 

3i 

52 

4,276 

65 

27 

12 

6,400 

32 

53 

4,2H 

68 

29 

*3 

6,368 

33 

54 

4,143 

70 

31 

14 

6,335 

35 

55 

4,073 

73 

33 

15 

6,300 

39 

56 

4,000 

76 

35 

16 

6,261 

42 

57 

3,924 

82 

37 

17 

6,219 

43 

58 

3,842 

93 

39 

18 

6,176 

43 

59 

3.749 

106 

4i 

J9 

6,133 

43 

60 

3.633 

122 

43 

20 

6,090 

43 

61 

3.521 

126 

45 

21 

6,047 

42 

62 

3,395 

127 

47 

22 

6,005 

42 

63 

3,268 

125 

49 

23 

5,963 

42 

64 

3,143 

125 

5i 

24 

5,921 

42 

65 

3,018 

124 

53 

25 

5,879 

43 

66 

2,894 

123 

55 

26 

5,836 

43 

67 

2,771 

123 

57 

27 

5-793 

45 

68 

2,648 

123 

59 

28 

5,748 

50 

69 

2,525 

124 

61 

29 

5,698 

56 

70 

2,401 

124 

63 

3° 

5,642 

57 

7i 

2,277 

134 

Ano 

31 

5,585 

57 

72 

2,143 

146 

32 

5,528 

56 

73 

i,997 

156 

Gii 

33 
34 

5,472 
5,417 

55 
55 

74 
75 

1,841 
1.675 

1  66 
160 

oldtl 

35 

5,362 

55 

76 

i,5i5 

156 

joine 

36 

5,307 

56 

77 

1.359 

146 

Telll 

37 

5,251 

57 

78 

1,213 

132 

she  v 

38 
39 

5,194 
5,136 

58 
61 

79 
80 

1,081 
953 

128 
116 

five  ; 

40 

$075 

66             81 

837 

112 

then 

36 

2 

3 
6 

7 

10 
ii 
14 
15 
18 

19 

22 

23 
26 
27 
30 
31 

34 
35 
38 
39 
42 

43 
46 

47 
50 
5i 
54 
55 
58 

59 
62 

63 


4 
5 
6 

7 

12 

13 
14 
15 
2O 
21 
22 
23 
28 

29 
30 


37 
38 
39 
44 
45 
46 

47 
52 
53 
54 
55 
60 
61 
62 
63 


9 
10 

ii 

12 
13 
14 
15 
24 
25 
26 
27 
28 
29 
30 
31 
40 
41 
42 

43 
44 
45 
46 

47 
56 
57 
58 
59 
60 
61 
62 
63 


16 

17 
18 

19 
20 

21 
22 
23 
24 
25 
26 

27 
28 

29 
30 


49 
50 
5i 
52 

53 
54 
55 
56 
57 
58 

I9 
60 

61 
62 
63 


32 
33 
34 
35 
36 
37 
38 
39 
40 

41 

42 
43 
44 

4I 
46 

47 
48 
49 
50 
5i 
52 
53 
54 
55 
56 
57 
58 

59 
60 
61 
62 
63 


Another  Method  of  Telling-  Any  One's  Age. 

Girls  of  a  marriageable  age  do  not  like  to  tell  how 
old  they  are,  but  you  can  find  out  by  following  sub 
joined  instructions,  the  young  lady  doing  the  figuring. 
Tell  her  to  put  down  the  number  of  the  month  in  which 
she  was  born ;  then  to  multiply  it  by  two  ;  then  to  add 
then  to  multiply  it  by  50 ;  then  to  add  her  age. ; 
then  to  subtract  365  ;  then  to  add  115  ;  then  tell  her  tc 


562 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


tell  you  the  amount  she  has  left.  The  two  figures  to 
the  right  will  denote  her  age,  and  the  remainder  the 
month  of  her  birth.  For  example,  the  amount  is  822, 
she  is  twenty-two  years  old,  and  was  born  in  the  eighth 
month  (August).  Try  it. 

A  Lady's  Chance  of  Marrying 

Every  woman  has  some  chance  to  marry  ;  it  may  be 
one  to  fifty,  or  it  may  be  ten  to  one  that  she  will.  Re 
presenting  her  entire  chance  at  one  hundred  at  certain 
points  of  her  progress  in  time,  it  is  found  to  be  in  the 
following  ratio : 

Between  the  ages  of  15  and  20  years 14%  per  cent. 

Between  the  ages  of  20  and  25  years 52  per  cent. 

Between  the  ages  of  25  and  30  years 18  per  cent. 

Between  the  ages  of  30  and  35  years 15^  per  cent. 

Between  the  ages  of  35  and  40  years 3^  per  cent. 

Between  the  ages  of  40  and  45  years 2^  per  cent. 

Between  the  ages  of  45  and  50  years...  %  of  I  per  cent. 
Between  the  ages  of  50  and  56  years... X  of  i  per  cent. 

After  sixty  it  is  one-tenth  of  one  per  cent,  or  one 
chance  in  a  thousand.  A  pretty  slender  figure — but 
FIGURES  are  often  SLENDER  at  that  age. 

Mode  of  Execution  in  Every  Country. 

Country.  Mode.  Publicity. 

Austria Gallows Public. 

Bavaria Guillotine Private. 

Belgium Guillotine Public. 

Brunswick Ax Private. 

China Sword  or  cord Public. 

Denmark Guillotine Public. 

Ecuador Musket Public. 

France Guillotine Public. 

Great  Britain Gallows Private. 

Hanover Guillotine Private. 

Italy Sword  or  gallows* Public. 

Netherlands Gallows Public. 

Oldenberg Musket Public. 

Portugal Gallows Public. 

Prussia Sword Private. 

Russia Musket,gallows,  or  sword  Public. 

Saxony Guillotine Private. 

Spain Garrote Public. 

Switzerland- 
Fifteen  cantons Sword Public. 

Two  cantons Guillotine Public. 

Two  cantons Guillotine Private. 

United  States  (other  f  Mostly 

than  New  York) Gallows \  Private. 

New  York Electricity Private. 

*Capital  punishment  abolished  in  1876. 
Antidotes  for  Poisons. 

In  cases  where  the  other  articles  to  be  used  as  anti 
dotes  are  not  in  the  house,  give  two  tablespoonfuls  of 


mustard  mixed  in  a  pint  of  warm  water.  Also  give 
large  draughts  of  warm  milk  or  water  mixed  with  oil, 
butter  or  lard.  If  possible  give  as  follows  . 


FOR  BED-BUG  POISON, 
BLUE  VITRIOL, 
CORROSIVE  SUBLIMATE, 
LEAD  WATER, 
SALTPETRE, 
SUGAR  OF  LEAD, 
SULPHATE  OF  ZINC, 
RED  PRECIPITATE, 
VERMILION, 


Give  Milk   or  White  of 
Eggs,  in  large  quantities 


]  Give  prompt  Emelic  of 

FOR  FOWLER'S  SOLUTION,  j  Mustard  and  Salt  —  table- 
WHITE  PRECIPITATE,  >  spoonful  of  each;  follow 
ARSENIC,  with  Sweet  Oil,  Butter  or 

J  Milk. 

"  Drink  warm  water  to  en- 


in  water. 


Qpium 


FOR  OIL  VITRIOL,  ] 

AQUA  FORTIS,  I  Magnesia  or  Soap,  dio- 

BI-CARBONATE  POTASSA,  f-  solved    in    water,  every 
MURIATIC  ACID,  two  minutes. 

OXALIC  ACID  J 


FOR  CAUSTIC  SODA, 
CAUSTIC  POTASH, 
VOLATILE  ALKALI, 


~\  Drink  freely  of  water  with 
>•  Vinegar  or  Lemon  Juice  in 
Jit- 


FOR  CARBOLIC  ACID  }  %£%££*  Wat 

1  Pour  cold  water  over  the 

FOR  CHLORAL  HYDRATE,  !  head  and  face,  with  arti- 
CHLOROFORM,  [  ficial  respiration,  Galvanic 

J  Battery. 

FOR  CARBONATE  OF  SODA,  "|  „          .  ^,      , .       0 

COPPERAS  I  promPt  Emetic  ;  Soap  or 

COBALT,    '  j  Mucilaginous  drinks. 

Wr»D  T  iTTT>AxrrTi«-  1  Strong  Coffee,  followed  by  Ground 
MORPHJNE          Mustard.  ™  Gr^  in  warm  water 
w*"       f  to  produce  vomiting.    Keep  in  mo- 
J  tion. 

FOR  NITRITE  oF  SILVER — Give  common  Salt  in  water. 

FOR  STRYCHNINE,    \  Emetic  of  Mustard  or  Sulphate  of 
TINCT.  NUX  VOMICA  j  Zinc,  aided  by  warm  water. 

Powers  of  Locomotion   of  Animals,  and 
Average  Velocities  of  Various  Bodies. 

A  man  walks 

A  horse  trots 

A  horse  runs 

Steamboat  runs 

Sailing  vessel  runs 

Slow  rivers  flow 

Rapid  rivers  flow 

A  moderate  wind  blows 

A  storm  moves 

A  hurricane  moves 

A  rifle  ball  moves 1,000 

Sound  moves 743 

Light  moves 192,000  miles  per  second. 

Electricity  moves 288,000  miles  per  second, 


Per  hour 

Per  Sec. 

3  miles,  or 

4feet« 

7 

or 

10 

20 

18 

or 
or 

29 
26 

10 

or 

H 

3 

or 

4 

7 

or 

10 

36 
80 

IOO 

or 
or 
or 
or 

10 
52 
117 
1,466 

43 

or 

1,142 

IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


563 


The  Pulse. 

The  natural  rate  of  the  pulse  varies  at  different  ages 
as  follows : 

Beats  per  Minute. 

At  birth 130 — 140 

One  year 115 — 130 

Two  years 100 — 115 

Three  years 95 — 105 

Pour  to  seven  years 85 —  95 

Seven  to  fourteen  years 80—  90 

Fourteen  to  twenty-one  years 75--  85 

Twenty-one  to  sixty  years 70 — •  75 

Old  age 75—  85 

Periods  of  Digestion. 

SUBSTANCE.  H.  M. 

Rice,  boiled I 

Eggs,  whipped,  raw i  30 

Trout,  fresh,  fried I  30 

Soup,  barley,  boiled I  30 

Apples,  sweet,  mellow,  raw i  30 

Venison  steak,  broiled i  45 

Sago,  boiled I  45 

Tapioca,  boiled 2 

Barley,  boiled 2 

Milk,  boiled 2 

T^iver,  beef,  fresh,  broiled 2 

;,3ggs,  fresh,  raw ' 2 

Apples,  sour,  mellow,  raw 2 

Cabbage,  with  vinegar,  raw 2 

Milk,  raw 2  15 

Eggs,  fresh,  roasted 2  15 

Turkey,  domestic,  roasted 2  30 

Goose,  wild,  roasted 2  30 

Cake,  sponge,  baked 2  30 

Hash,  warmed 2  30 

Beans,  pod,  boiled 2  30 

Parsnips,  boiled 2  30 

Potatoes,  Irish,  baked 2  30 

Cabbage,  head,  raw 2  30 

Custard,  baked 2  45 

Apples,  sour,  hard,  raw 2  50 

Oysters,  fresh,  raw 2  55 

Eggs,  fresh,  soft  boiled 3 

Beefsteak,  broiled 3 

Mutton,  fresh,  broiled 3 

Mutton,  fresh,  boiled 3 

Soup,  bean,  boiled 3 

Chicken  soup,  boiled 3 

Dumpling,  apple,  boiled 3 

Oysters,  fresh,  roasted 3  15 

Pork,  salted,  broiled 3  15 

Porksteak,  broiled 3  15 

Mutton,  fresh,  roasted 3  15 

Bread,  corn,  baked 3  15 

Carrot,  orange,  boiled 3  15 

Sausage,  fresh,  broiled 3  20 


Oysters,  fresh,  stewed 3  30 

Butter,  melted 3  30 

Cheese,  old,  raw 3  30 

Oyster  soup,  boiled 3  30 

Bread,  wheat,  fresh,  baked 3  30 

Turnips,  flat,  boiled 3  30 

Potatoes,  Irish,  boiled 3  30 

Eggs,  fresh,  hard  boiled 3  30 

Eggs,  fresh,  fried 3  30 

Green  corn  and  beans,  boiled 3  45 

Beets,  boiled 3  45 

Salmon,  salted,  boiled 4 

Beef,  fried 4 

Veal,  fresh,  broiled 4 

Fowls,  domestic,  boiled 4 

Beef,  old,  salted,  boiled 4  i^ 

Pork,  salted,  fried 4  15 

Pork,  salted,  boiled 4  30 

Veal,  fresh,  fried 4  30 

Cabbage,  boiled 4  30 

Pork,  roasted 5  15 

Suet,  beef,  boiled 5  30 

Percentage  of  Nutrition  in  Various  Articles 
of  Food. 


Raw  Cucumbers 2 

Raw  Melons 3 

Boiled  Turnips 4 

Milk 7 

Cabbage 7 

Apples 10 

Currants 10 

Whipped  Eggs 13 

Beets 14 

Apples 16 

Peaches 20 

Boiled  Codfish 21 

Broiled  Venison 22 

Potatoes 22 

Fried  Veal 24 

Roast  Pork 24 


Roast  Poultry. 26 

Raw  Beef. 26 

Raw  Grapes 27 

Raw  Plums 29 

Broiled  Mutton 30 

Oatmeal  Porridge 75 

Rye  Bread 79 

Boiled  Beans 87 

Boiled  Rice 88 

Barley  Bread 88 

Wheat  Bread 90 

Baked  Corn  Bread 91 

Boiled  Barley 92 

Butter 92 

Boiled  Peas 93 

Raw  Oils 95 


Percentage  of  Alcohol  in  Various  Liquors. 


Scotch  Whisky 54-53 

Irish  Whisky 53.9 

Rum 53-68 

Gin 51.6 

Brandy 53.39 

Burgundy 14-57 

Cape  Muscat 18.25 

Champagne  (still) 13.80 

Champagne  (sp'rkl'g)  12.61 

Cider 5.2  109.8 

Constantia 19.75 

Gooseberry  Wine 11.48 


Currant  Wine 20.50 

Port 22.90 

Madeira 22.27 

Teneriffe T9-79 

Sherry 19-1? 

Claret 15.1 

Elder 8.79 

Ale 6.87 

Porter 4.02 

Malaga 17.26 

Rhenish 12.8 

Small  Beer 1.28 


Weight  of  Eggs. 

The  following  table  of  the  weight  of  eggs  per  pound 
of  various  breeds  of  fowls  and  the  number  of  eggs  laid 
in  a  year  is  approximately  fair,  though  it  may  vary 
under  exceptionally  adverse  or  favorable  conditions: 


564 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Varieties  Eggs       No'  Eggs 

Perlb.    Per  Year. 

Light  Brahmas 7  130 

Dark  Brahmas 8  130 

Partridge  Cochins 7  130 

Black,  White,  Buff  Cochins 7  120 

Plymouth  Rocks 8  150 

Houdans 8  155 

La  Fleche 7  135 

Creve  Cceurs 8  145 

Black  Spanish 8  155 

Leghorns 8  160 

Hatnburgs 9  150 

Dominiques 8  135 

Games , 9  140 

Bantams 16  90 

Food  in  an  Egg. 

An  egg  contains  as  much  nourishment  as  a  pound 
and  an  ounce  of  cherries,  a  pound  and  a  quarter  of 
grapes,  a  pound  and  a  half  of  russet  apples,  two  pounds 
of  gooseberries  and  four  pounds  of  pears;  and  114 
pounds  of  grapes,  127  pounds  of  russet  apples,  192 
pounds  of  pears,  and  327  pounds  of  plums  are  equal 
in  nourishment  to  100  pounds  of  potatoes. 

Rules  for  the  Management  of  Poultry. 

1.  Good  dry  houses,   well  ventilated  but  void  of 
drafts. 

2.  Keep  your  hen  houses  clean  and  the  floor  covered 
4'th  ashes. 

3.  Whitewash  inside  monthly  from   March    ist  to 
October  ist. 

4.  Feed  regularly,  but  never  overfeed  ;  cease  feeding 
when  the  fowls  cease  to  run  for  it. 

5.  Scatter  the  food  on  the  ground  when  the  weather 
will  permit. 

6.  Feed  mixed  grain,  or  alternate,  as  corn  one  day, 
oats  aexl,  wheat  next,  etc. 

7.  Allow  adult  fowls  freedom  as  early  in  the  morn 
ing  as  they  desire. 

8.  Keep  hens  with  chicks  in  small  coops  (well  cov 
ered  and  dry)  until  the  chicks  are  three  weeks  old. 

9.  Feed  chicks  morning,  noon  and  afternoon. 

10.  Mix  ground  black  pepper  with   the   morning 
food. 

n.  Grease  the  hens  well  under  the  wings,  breast  and 
fluff  feathers  as  soon  as  the  chicks  are  taken  off,  with 
ointment  made  of  lard  and  carbolic  acid  ;  one  table- 
spoonful  of  lard  to  ten  drops  of  acid. 

Box  Measures. 

Farmers  and  market  gardeners  will  find  a  series  of 
box  measures  very  useful,  and  they  can  readily  be  made 
by  anyone  who  understands  the  two-foot  rule  and  can 
handle  the  saw  and  hammer.  The  following  measure 
ments,  it  will  be  seen,  vary  slightly  from  the  United 
States  bushel  adopted  by  some  of  the  States,  but  are 
•ufficiently  accurate  for  a/1  ordinary  purposes : 


A  box  16  by  i6l/$  inches  square  and  8  inches  deep 
will  contain  a  bushel,  or  2150.4  cubic  inches,  each  inch 
in  depth  holding  one  gallon. 

A  box  24  by  11.2  inches  square  and  8  inches  deep 
will  also  contain  a  bushel,  or  2150.4  cubic  inches,  each 
in  depth  holding  i  gallon.  A  box  12  by  11.2  inches 
square  and  8  inches  deep  will  contain  half  a  bushel,  or 
1075.2  cubic  inches,  each  inch  in  depth  holding  half  a 
gallon. 

A  box  8  by  8.4  inches  square  and  8  inches  deep  will 
contain  half  a  peck,  or  298.8  cubic  inches.  The  gal 
lon,  dry  measure. 

A  box  4  by  4  inches  square  and  4.2  inches  deep  will 
contain  I  quart,  or  67.2  cubic  inches. 

How  to  Drive  Flies  from  Stables. 

Scatter  chloride  of  lime  on  a  board  in  a  stable,  to 
remove  all  kinds  of  flies,  but  more  especially  biting 
flies.  Sprinkling  beds  of  vegetables  with  even  a  weak 
solution,  effectually  preserves  them  from  caterpillars, 
slugs,  etc.  A  paste  of  one  part  powdered  chloride  of 
lime,  and  a  half  part  of  some  fatty  matter  placed  in  a 
narrow  band  round  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  prevents 
insects  from  creeping  up  it.  Even  rats,  mice,  cock 
roaches  and  crickets  flee  from  it. 

How  to  Keep  Flies  from  Horses. 

Procure  a  bunch  of  smartweed  and  bruise  it  to  cause 
the  juice  to  exude.  Rub  the  animal  thoroughly  with 
the  bunch  of  bruised  weed,  especially  on  the  legs,  neck 
and  ears.  Neither  flies  or  other  insects  will  trouble 
him  for  twenty-four  hours.  The  process  should  be 
repeated  every  day.  A  very  convenient  way  of  using 
it  is,  to  make  a  strong  infusion  by  boiling  the  weed  a 
few  minutes  in  water.  When  cold  it  can  be  conveni 
ently  applied  with  a  sponge  or  brush.  Smartweed  is 
found  growing  in  every  section  of  the  country,  usually 
on  wet  ground  near  highways. 

A  Rule  for  Determining  the  Weight  of 
Live  Cattle  by  Measurement. 

There  are  many  rules  for  estimating  the  weight  of 
cattle  by  measurement,  but  one  of  the  authorities  on 
the  subject  says  that  "There  is  no  rule  that  comes 
nearer  than  good  guessing,"  and  that  no  two  animals 
will  weigh  alike  according  to  measurement.  The 
same  authority  further  remarks  that  a  rule,  as  good  as 
any,  is  to  find  the  superficial  feet  by  multiplying  the 
girth,  just  behind  the  shoulder-blade,  by  the  length 
from  the  fore  part  of  the  shoulder  blade  to  the  root  of 
the  tail.  Thus  an  ox  girthing  seven  feet  nine  inches, 
and  measuring  six  feet  in  length,  would  contain  seven 
and  three-fourths  times  six  or  46^  superficial  feet. 
For  cattle,  grass  fed,  the  following  is  given  as  the 
weight  per  superficial  foot : 

Girth  less  than  3  feet n  pounds, 

Girth  3  to  5  feet .16  pounds. 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


565 


Cow  
Bear  

20 
2O 

Deer  

2O 

Pie's  ... 

2O 

Cat  

..I1? 

Fox  

..    I"? 

DOS'... 

2O 

Sheep  

10 

Rabbit     

7 

Snuirrel... 

,    8 

Girth  5  to  7  feet 23  pounds. 

Girth  7  to  9  feet 31  pounds. 

Thus  the  steer,  as  per  above  measurements,  should 
weigh  46.50  by  31,  or  1,441  pounds,  gross.  Under  this 
rule  it  is  usual  to  deduct  one  pound  in  twenty  on  half- 
fatted  cattle,  from  fifteen  to  twenty  pounds  on  a  cow 
having  had  calves,  and  if  not  fat  an  equal  amount. 
The  author  of  this  rule  suggests  its  use  only  when  the 
scale  is  wanting,  as  the  scale  is  the  only  true  standard. 

Years  of  Age  which  various  Animals 
Attain. 

Whale 1,000 

Elephant 400 

Swan 300 

Tortoise loo 

Eagle loo 

Raven loo 

Camel loo 

Lion 70 

Porpoise 30 

Horse 25  to  30 

How  to  Tell  the  Age  of  a  Horse  by  his 
Teeth. 

At  three  years  old  the  horse  should  have  the  central 
permanent  nippers  growing,  the  other  two  pairs  wast 
ing,  six  grinders  in  each  jaw  above  and  below,  the  first 
and  fifth  level,  the  others  and  the  sixth  protruding. 
The  sharp  edges  of  the  new  incisors  will  be  very  evi 
dent,  compared  with  the  old  teeth.  As  the  permanent 
nippers  wear  and  continue  to  grow,  a  narrow  portion 
of  the  cone-shaped  tooth  is  exposed  by  the  attrition  of 
the  teeth  on  each  other.  The  mark  will  be  wearing 
out,  and  the  crowns  of  the  teeth  will  be  sensibly 
smaller  than  at  two  years.  Between  three  and  a  half 
and  four  years  the  next  pair  of  nippers  will  be  changed, 
the  central  nippers  will  have  attained  nearly  their  full 
growth,  a  vacuity  will  be  left  where  the  second  stood, 
and  the  corner  teeth  will  be  diminished  in  breadth, 
worn  down,  and  the  mark  in  the  centre  of  the  tooth 
will  become  faint.  The  second  pair  of  grinders  will 
be  shed.  At  four  years  the  central  nippers  will  be  fully 
developed,  the  sharp  edge  somewhat  worn  off,  and  the 
mark  somewhat  wider  and  fainter.  The  next  pair  will 
be  up,  but  they  will  be  small,  with  a  mark  deep  and 
extending  quite  across  them.  The  corner  nippers  will 
be  larger  than  the  inside  ones,  but  smaller  than  before 
and  flat,  and  the  mark  nearly  effaced.  The  sixth 
grinders  will  have  risen  to  a  level  with  the  others,  and 
the  tushes  will  begin  to  appear. 

At  five  the  horse's  mouth  is  almost  perfect.  The 
corner  nippers  are  quite  up,  the  long,  deep  mark 
irregular  in  the  inside,  and  the  other  nippers  will  bear 
evident  tokens  of  increased  wear.  The  tushes  are 
nearly  grown,  the  sixth  molar  is  up,  and  the  third 
molar  is  wanting.  This  last  circumstance  will  prevent 
the  deception  of  attempting  to  pass  a  late  four-year 


old  as  a  five-year-old.  At  six  the  uark  on  the  central 
nippers  is  worn  out.  At  seven  the  mark  is  worn  out 
in  the  four  central  nippers,  and  fast  wearing  way  in 
the  corner  teeth.  The  tushes  are  rounded  at  the  points 
and  edges,  and  beginning  to  get  round  inside.  At  eight 
years  old  the  tushes  are  rounded  in  every  way,  the 
mark  is  gone  from  all  the  bottom  nippers.  There  is 
nothing  remaining  in  them  that  can  afterward  clearly 
show  the  age  of  a  horse.  After  this  the  only  guides 
are  the  nippers  in  the  upper  jaw.  At  nine  the  mark 
will  be  worn  from  the  middle  nippers,  from  the  next 
pair  at  ten,  and  from  all  the  upper  nippers  at  eleven. 
At  nine  the  centre  nippers  are  round  instead  of  oval. 
At  ten  the  others  begin  to  become  rounded,  at  eleven 
the  second  pair  are  much  rounded,  at  thirteen  the  cor 
ner  ones  have  the  same  appearance,  at  fourteen  the 
faces  of  the  centre  nippers  become  somewhat  triangu 
lar,  at  seventeen  they  are  all  so. 

Food  for  Stock. 

The  following  table  shows  the  number  of  pounds  of 
various  products,  used  as  food  for  stock,  which  are 
equivalent  in  value  to  10  pounds  of  good  hay  : 


FOOD.  POUNDS. 

Barley 5  to    6 

Cabbage  20  to  30 

Carrots,  red 25  to  30 

Carrots,  white 40  to  45 

Clover,  green 45  to  50 

Indian  corn 5  to    7 

Mangel-wurzel  301035 

Oats 4  to    7 

Oil  Cake 2  to    4 


FOOD.  POUNDS. 

Peas  and  Beans 3  to    5 

Potatoes 20  to  25 

Straw,  barley 20  to  40 

Straw,  oat 20  to  40 

Straw,  pea 10  to  15 

Straw,  wheat 40  to  50 

Turnips 45  to  50 

Wheat 5  to    7 


Vitality  of  Seeds. 

The  table  shows  the  limit  of  time  beyond  which 
the  seeda  of  the  common  garden  vegetables  become 
useless  for  sowing. 


Beans  2  years 

Onion  i  year 

Beets  7  years 

Parsnip  i  year 

Cabbage  4  years 

Peas  2  years 

Carrot.    .                 .  2  years 

Radish  3  years 

Celery  2  years 

Squash  10  years 

Cucumber  10  years 

Sweet  Corn  2  years 

Lettuce           3  years 

Tomato  7  years 

IVtelon                       10  vears 

Tnrnir>                         ..   A  vpara 

Quantity  of  Seeds  Required  per  Acre. 

Wheat                 il/2  to  2  bu  ]  "Rppf-s  7                lb» 

Rve                     i  V-> 

Carrots  2 

Oats  3 

Rutabaga  ^             " 
Millet  Y*            be 

Barley                 2 

Peas  2     to  3 

Clover,  white.4                qts 
Clover,  red  8 
Timothy  6 
Orchard  grass  2                bu 
Red  top  i   to    2   pks 

White  beans....  i  ^ 
Buckwheat  Y* 
Corn,  bro'dc'st  4 
Corn,  in  drills..2    to  3 
Corn,  in  hills.  ..4    to  8  qts 
Broom  corn  Y*           bu 
Potatoes  10  to  is    " 

Blue  grass  2                bu 
Mix'dlawngri      to  2    " 
Tobacco  2                oz 

566 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Hills  in  an  Acre  of  Ground. 


40  feet  apart. 27  hills  8  feet  apart 


35 
30 
35 

20 

15 
12 
10 


•  35 
.  48 

•  69 
.108 

•193 
.302 

•435 


...  680  hills 
...  1,210 
—  1,732 
-  3,556 
...  4,840 
...  6,969 
...10,890 
...43,560 


Comparative  Yield  of  Various  Grains, 
Vegetables  and  Fruits. 


Lbs.  per  acre 
442 


Lbs.  per  acre 

Grass 7,000 

Carrots 6,800 

Potatoes 7,500 

Apples 8,000 

Turnips 8,420 

Cinque  foil  grass 9,600 

Vetches,  green 9,800 

Cabbage 10,900 

Parsnips 11,200 

Mangel  Wurzel 22,000 


Hops  ... 

Wheat 1,260 

Barley 1,600 

Oats 1,840 

Peas 1,920 

Beans 2,000 

Plums 2,000 

Cherries 2,000 

Onions 2,800 

Hay 4,000 

fears 5,ooo 

Hay  Measure. 

About  500  cubic  feet  of  well-settled  hay,  or  about  700 
of  new  mown  hay,  will  make  a  ton.  To  estimate 
•mount  of  hay  in  s,  mow — Ten  cubic  yards  of  meadow 
hay  weigh  a  ton.  When  the  hay  is  taken  out  of  old 
Stacks,  8  or  9  yards  will  make  a  ton.  Eleven  or  twelve 
cubic  yards  of  clover,  when  dry,  will  make  a  ton. 

How  Grain  will  Shrink. 

Farmers  rarely  gain  by  holding  on  to  their  grain 
after  it  is  fit  for  market,  when  the  shrinkage  is  taken 
into  account.  Wheat,  from  the  time  it  is  threshed, 
will  shrink  two  quarts  to  the  bushel,  or  6  per  cent,  in 
six  months,  in  the  most  favorable  circumstances. 
Hence,  it  follows  that  94  cents  a  bushel  for  wheat  when 
first  threshed  in  August,  is  as  good,  taking  into  account 
the  shrinkage  alone,  as  $i  in  the  following  February. 

Corn  shrinks  much  more  from  the  time  it  is  first 
husked.  One  hundred  bushels  of  ears,  as  they  come 
from  the  fields  in  November,  will  be  reduced  to  not  far 
from  eighty.  So  that  forty  cents  a  bushel  for  corn  in 
the  ear,  as  it  comes  from  the  field,  is  as  good  as  fifty  in 
March,  shrinkage  only  being  taken  into  account. 

In  the  case  of  potatoes — taking  those  that  rot  and  are 
otherwise  lost — together  with  the  shrinkage,  there  is 
but  little  doubt  that  between  October  and  June  the  loss 
to  the  owner  who  holds  them  is  not  less  than  33  per 
cent. 

This  estimate  is  taken  on  the  basis  of  interest  at  7 
per  cent.,  and  takes  no  account  of  loss  by  vermin. 

Weight  of  Men  and  Animals. 

The  average  weight  of  20,000  men  and  women, 
weighed  at  Boston,  Mass.,  in  1864,  was — men  141^  Ibs; 
women,  124^  Ibs. 

Acrowdof  people  closely  packed  =  85  Ibs.  per  sup.  ft. 


The  average  weight  of  a  man  =  140  Ibs.  6  oz.,  01 
about  fifteen  men  to  a  ton. 

A  strong  cart  horse  =  14  cwt.,  and  a  cavalry  horse 
=  11  cwt. 

An  ox  =  7  to  8  cwt.     Cow,  6%  to  8  cwt. 

A  pig  =  i  to  1)4  cwt.,  and  a  sheep  =  $£  to  iX  cwt. 

The  Proportion  of  Good  Meat  in  a  Weil-Fed 

Beef  Animal  Compared  with 

Its  Live  Weight. 

Sixty  pounds  of  dressed  beef  for  each  100  pounds 
of  live  weight  is  considered  a  fair  average,  and  indi 
cates  that  the  animal  was  a  good  stock  in  first-rate 
marketable  condition.  Of  course  the  choice  cuts,  con 
sisting  of  ribs,  sirloin,  and  rump  steaks,  constitute 
only  about  half  of  this.  So  that  an  animal  which  weighs 
i  ,000  pounds  live  weight  will  produce  but  about  600 
pounds  of  dressed  meat,  of  which  the  choice  cuts  will 
amount  to  about  310  pounds  and  the  "  coarse  meat " 
to  290  pounds. 

Contents  of  Cisterns. 

To  find  the  number  of  gallons  contained  in  a  cistern, 
multiply  the  length,  width  and  depth  together,  all  in 
feet.  This  will  give  the  contents  in  cube  feet,  which 
multiply  by  6.24,  and  the  product  will  be  the  number 
of  gallons.  If  the  dimensions  are  in  inches,  use 
.003607  in  place  of  6.24. 

Two  dimensions  of  a  cistern  being  given  to  find  the 
third,  to  contain  a  given  number  of  gallons,  multiply 
the  required  number  of  gallons  by  .16046,  if  the  dimen 
sions  are  in  feet,  or  by  277,274,  if  the  dimensions  are 
in  inches,  and  divide  the  result  by  the  product  of  the 
two  given  dimensions.  The  quotient  will  be  the  third 
dimension  required. 

Wood  Measure. 

To  find  the  contents  of  cord  wood.  Multiply  the 
length,  width  and  height  together  and  divide  the  pro 
duct  by  128. 

Wood  for  Fuel. 

In  regard  to  the  relative  values  of  wood  as  heat  pro 
ducers,  different  woods  vary  some  by  different  meth 
ods  of  experimenting.  The  most  accurate  would  be 
their  value  as  steam  producers.  The  following  test 
was  made  from  a  fire  tubular,  horizontal  boiler: 


Shellbark  Hickory 100 

Pignut  Hickory 95 

White  Oak 84 

White  Ash 77 

Dogwood 75 

Shrub  Oak 73 

White  Hazel 72 

Apple  Tree 70 

Red  Oak 67 

White  Beech 65 

Yellow  Oak 60 


Hard  Maple 59 

White  Elm 58 

Red  Cedar 56 

Wild  Cherry 55 

Yellow  Pine 54 

Chestnut 52 

Yellow  Poplar 51 

Butternut  43 

White  Birch 43 

White  Pine 39 


These  figures  are  from  air-dried  wood.     No  accurate 
result  could  be  obtained  from  green  wood,  as  it  is  not 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


567 


to  a  proper  condition,  and  would  vary  considerably 
from  any  figures  that  might  be  made. 

How  to  Measure  Circles  and  Globes. 

To  find  the  circumference  of  a  circle,  multiply  the 
iiameter  by  3. 1416. 

To  find  the  area  of  a  circle,  multiply  the  square  of 
he  diameter  by  .7854. 

To  find  the  surface  of  a  globe,  multiply  the  square  of 
he  diameter  by  3.1416. 

To  find  the  solidity  of  a  globe,  multiply  the  cube  of 
(he  diameter  by  .5236. 

Seasoning  and  Preserving  Timber. 

For  the  purpose  of  seasoning,  timber  should  be 
piled  under  shelter,  where  it  may  be  kept  dry,  but  not 
exposed  to  a  strong  current  of  air.  At  the  same  time, 
there  should  be  a  free  circulation  of  air  about  the  tim 
ber,  with  which  a  few  slats  or  blocks  of  wood  should 
be  placed  between  the  pieces  that  lie  over  each  other, 
near  enough  to  prevent  the  timber  from  bending. 

In  the  sheds  the  pieces  of  timber  should  be  piled  in 
fhis  way  or  in  square  piles,  and  classed  according  to 
age  and  kind.  Each  pile  should  be  distinctly  marked 
with  the  number  and  kind  of  pieces  and  the  age  or  the 
date  of  receiving  them. 

The  piles  should  betaken  down  and  made  over  again 
at  intervals,  varying  with  the  length  of  time  which  the 
timber  has  been  cut. 

The  seasoning  of  timber  requires  from  two  to  four 
years,  according  to  its  size. 

Gradual  drying  and  seasoning  in  this  manner  is  con 
sidered  the  most  favorable  to  the  durability  and  strength 
of  timber,  but  various  methods  have  been  prepared  for 
hastening  the  process.  For  this  purpose ,  steaming  and 
boiling  timber  has  been  applied  with  success.  Kiln 
drying  is  serviceable  only  for  boards  and  pieces  of  small 
dimensions,  and  is  apt  to  cause  cracks  and  to  impair 
the  strength  of  wood,  unless  performed  very  slowly. 

Timber  of  large  dimension  is  improved  by  immer 
sion  in  water  for  some  weeks,  according  to  its  size, 
after  which  it  is  less  subject  to  warp  and  crack  in  steam 
ing. 

Oak  timber  loses  about  one-fifth  of  its  weight  in 
seasoning,  and  about  one-third  of  its  weight  in  be 
coming  dry. 

Grain  Measure. 

To  find  the  capacity  of  a  bin  or  wagon  bed,  multiply 
the  cubic  feet  by  .8  (tenths).  For  great  accuracy,  add 
y$  of  a  bushel  for  every  100  cubic  feet. 

Ear  Corn  Measure. 

To  find  the  contents  of  a  corn  crib,  multiply  the 
cnbic  feet  by  4  and  divide  the  product  by  9. 

Land  Measure. 
To  find  the  number  of  acres  in  a  body  of  land,  mul 
tiply  the  length  by  the  width  (in  rods)  and  divide  the 


aroduct  by  160.  When  the  opposite  sides  are  unequal, 
add  them  and  take  half  the  sum  for  the  mean  length  « 
width. 

Wells. 

To  ascertain  the  quantity  of  water  in  a  well,  take  hal: 
the  circumference  and  multiply  by  half  the  diameter ; 
multiply  the  result  by  the  depth,  which  gives  the  cubic 
measures,  then  reckon  6  gal.  and  i  pt.  to  the  cube  foot* 

How  to  Mix  Paints  for  Colors. 


Buff. Mix  together- 
Chestnut  " 
Chocolate  " 
Claret...  " 
Copper..  " 

Dove " 

Drab " 

Fawn " 

Flesh " 

Freestone  " 
French  Gray  " 

Gray " 

Gold " 

Green  Bronze'* 

Lemon ..  " 

Limestone  " 

Olive....  " 

Orange..  " 

Peach ...  " 

Pearl 

Purple...  " 

Rose " 

Sandstone  " 

Snuff.....  « 
Violet... 


-White,  Yellow  Ochre,  Red. 
Red,  Black,  Yellow. 
Raw  Umber,  Red,  Black. 
Red,  Umber,  Black, 
Red,  Yellow,  Black. 
White,  Vermilion,  Blue,  Yel. 
White,  Yel.  Ochre,  Red,  Black, 
White,  Yellow,  Red. 
White,  Yel.  Ochre,  Vermilion. 
Red,  Black,  Yel.  Ochre,  Verm^ 
White,  Prussian  Blue,  Lake. 
White  Lead,  Black. 
White,  Stone  Ochre,  Red. 
Chrome  Green,  Black,  Yellow, 
White,  Chrome  Yellow. 
White,  Yel.  Ochre,  Black, Red 
Yellow,  Blue,  Black,  White. 
Yellow  and  Red. 
White  and  Vermilion. 
White,  Black,  Blue. 
Violet,  with  more  Red  &  White 
White,  Madder  Lake. 
White,  Yel.  Ochre,  Black,  Red 
Yellow,  Vandyke  Brown. 
Red,  Blue  and  White. 


EXCELLENT  INTEREST  RULES. 

For  finding  the  interest  on  any  principal  for  any 
number  of  days.  The  answer  in  each  case  being  in 
cents,  separate  the  two  right-hand  figures  of  answer  to 
express  in  dollars  and  cents  : 

Four  per  cent. — Multiply  the  principal  by  the  num 
ber  of  days  to  run  ;  separate  right-hand  figure  frott 
product,  and  divide  by  9. 

Five  per  cent. — Multiply  by  number  of  days,  and  di 
vide  by  72. 

Six  per  cent. — Multiply  by  number  of  days,  separate 
right-hand  figure,  and  divide  by  6. 

Eight  per  cent. — Multiply  by  number  of  days,  and 
divide  by  45. 

Nine  per  cent. — Multiply  by  number  of  days,  sepa 
rate  right-hand  figure,  and  divide  by  4. 

Ten  per  cent. — Multiply  by  number  of  days,  and  di 
vide  by  36. 

Twelve  per  cent. — Multiply  by  number  of  days,  sep 
arate  right-hand  figure,  and  divide  by  3. 


568 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Fifteen  per  cent. — Multiply  by  number  of  days,  and 
divide  by  44. 

Eighteen  per  cent. — Multiply  by  number  of  days, 
separate  right-hand  figure,  and  divide  by  2, 

Twenty  per  cent. — Multiply  by  number  oi  days,  and 
divide  by  18. 

Twenty-four  per  cent. — Multiply  by  number  of  days, 
and  divide  by  15. 

The  Best  Interest  Rule  Extant. 

To  find  the  interest  on  any  amount,  at  any  rate  per 
cent.,  for  any  length  of  time : 

1st.  Reduce  time  to  run  en  interest  to  months  and 
tenths  of  a  month.  To  find  the  number  of  tenths  of  a 
month  divide  the  number  of  days  over  a  month  by 
three  and  add  to  the  number  of  months  the  tenths  in 
decimal  form. 

2d.  Move  the  decimal  point  between  dollars  and 
cents  in  the  principal  two  places  to  the  left,  divide  this 
amount  by  twelve  and  multiply  by  the  rate  per  cent.; 
multiply  this  amount  by  the  number  of  months,  as 
found  above,  and  the  product  will  be  the  answer. 

EXAMPLE.—  $144.00  @  4%  per  cent.,  for  I  year,  7 
months  and  21  days.  I  year,  7  months  and  21  days 
equals  19.7  months. 


At  4-K  Per  Cent. 

^2)1. 44 

.12 
4  ^  rate  of  interest. 

.54  rate  for  I  month. 
19.7  months. 

378 
486 

54 
$10.63. 8=Ans.  $10.63.8, 


At  5  Per  Cent. 

12)1.44 

.12 

5  rate  of  interest, 

.60  rate  for  I  month, 
19.7  months. 


420 
540 
60 

$u.82.o=Ans.  $11.82. 


Interest  Tables. 

I  PER  CENT. 


$       i.oo 0000277  .0001939 

lo.oo 000277  •OOI939 

100.00 00277  «OI939 

1,000  oo 0277  .1939 

5  PER  CENT. 

$   i.oo 0001385  .00097 

10.00 001385   .0097 

loo.oo... .o 01385    .097 

1,000.00...., 1385    .97 

6  PER  CENT. 

I   i.oo 0001662  .001163 

10.00 001662   .01163 

loo.oo 01662    .1163 

1,000.00 1662  1.163 


One 

One 

Month. 

Year, 

.000833 

.01 

.00833 

.IO 

.0833     $ 

I.OO 

.833 

IO.OO 

.00416 

•05 

.0416 

•50 

.416       $ 

5.00 

4.l6 

50.00 

.005 

.06 

•05 

.60 

.50     $ 

6.00 

5-00 

60.00 

Short  Method  to  Calculate  Interest 

RULE. 

Multiply  the  principal  by  half  the  number  of  days ', 
that  product  divided  by  30  will  give  the  answer  in 
cents. 

EXAMPLE. 

What  is  the  interest  on  $165  for  16  days  at  6  pe* 
cent.? 

165  dollars, 
8  half  the  number  of  days. 

3.0)  132.0 


44  cents. 
Divisors  for  Different  Rates  per  cent» 

Any  amount  multiplied  by  the  time  in  days,  as  pet 
example  :  $200  for  19  days,  and  divide  by  72,  will  give 
you  the  interest  at  5  per  cent,  per  annum. 

Answer,  $.52.7 
At    6  per  cent,  as  above,  divide  by  60 


9 
10 

12 

15 
20 
24 
40 


52 

45 
40 

36 
30 
24 
18 

15 
09 


A  Period  of  Heavy  Interest. 

When  Franklin  Pierce  became  President  the  public 
debt  aggregated  $69,129,937.27,  and  later  was  increased 
by  $2,500,000  to  liquidate  the  debt  of  Texas.  In  No 
vember,  1856,  this  had  been  reduced  to  $30,963,909.64. 
There  was  a  considerable  sum  due  to  the  Indian  tribes, 
growing  out  of  the  extinction  of  their  title  to  the 
public  lands.  In  1856  this  amounted  to  $21,066,501.36, 
and  was  payable  at  different  times.  The  reduction  oi 
the  public  debt  was  so  rapid  that  the  Government 
parted  the  next  year  with  a  portion  of  its  revenue. 
Then  came  the  financial  crisis  of  1857.  The  national 
income  speedily  decreased,  and  the  public  credit  like 
wise  declined.  After  much  trouble  and  great  financial 
distress,  money  had  to  be  borrowed  to  meet  current 
obligations.  The  $20,000,000  Treasury  notes  issued  *n 
December,  1857,  payable  in  a  year,  could  not  be  me: 
when  they  matured.  The  Government  tried  to  float 
enough  of  the  stock  to  meet  the  Treasury  notes  that 
would  fall  due  in  January,  1861.  Finally,  Congress 
authorized  the  issue  of  $10,000,000  of  Treasury  notes 
in  lieu  of  $11,000,000,  redeemable  at  the  end  of  one 
year,  and  bearing  6  per  cent,  interest  until  called  foi 
redemption.  The  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  was,  how 
ever,  authorized  to  issue  them,  after  advertisement,  at 
such  rates  of  interest  as  might  be  offered  by  the  lowest 
responsible  bidders.  Notes  were  soon  afterward  issued 
under  this  act. 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 


569 


Interest  Tames. 

Table  Showing-  How  Many  Days  a  Note 
lias  to  1  J  im. 

The  following  table  will  be  found  very  useful  to  book 
keepers  in  calculating  the  number  of  days  a  note  has  to  run  • 

~±% 

$T 

$» 

$3 

$4 

$5 

$6 

$7 

$8 

$9 

$10 

$100 

$1000 

12     '' 

16    " 

20     ' 

',3  « 

I  MO. 
2     " 

3    " 
6    " 

I   YR. 

O 
0 
0 
0 
O 
0 
0 
O 

o 

I 

2 

4 

o 
o 
o 
o 
o 

0 

o 

o 

2 

2 

J 

o 
o 

0 
0 

o 

I 

X 
X 
2 

3 
6 

12 

o 

0 

o 
o 

I 
X 
X 
2 

3 

i 

16 

0 

o 

0 

I 

X 
2 
2 
2 
4 

5 

IO 

20 

o 

o 

X 
X 
a 

2 
2 

2 

12 

24 

o 
o 

X 

I 

2 
2 
2 

3 
5 
7 
M 
28 

0 

o 

I 

3 
2 
2 

3 

1 

8 
16 

32 

o 

X 
X 
2 
2 

3 
3 

1 

36 

o 

X 
2 
2 

2 

3 
3 
4 
7 

10 
20 

40 

5 
9 
J4 
i3 

22 
27 

31 

I4 
67 

I.OO 

2.00 
4.00 

n 

1.34 

1.78 

2.22 
2.67 

i'l4 
6.67 

10.  OO 

20.00 
40.00 

FROM 

C-, 

p 

I 

sj 
p 

f 

I 

-  T( 

£ 

JB 

)  — 

s 

I 

•o 

p 

8 

f 

F 

January  

365 
334 
306 
275 

31 
365 

59 

90 
59 
31 

12(1 
89 

151 
120 

181 
150 

212 
181 

243 
212 

273 
242 

304 
273 

334 
306 

February  

2S 

March  

337 
306 

365 

61 

92 

122 

153 
122 

184 

214 

245 

275 
244 

April  

334 

365 

30 

61 

91 

153 

183 

214 

May  

245 
214 

276 

304 

335 
304 
2T4 

365 

31 

61 

92 

123 

153 

184 

214 

245 

273 

334 

365 

30 

61 

92 

122 

153 

183 

5% 

$1 

$3 

$3 

$4 

$5 

$6 

$7 

$8 

$9 

XO 

$100 

$1000 

July  

184 

215 

243 

304 

335 

365 
334 

31 

02 

93 

123 

153 

153 
122 
92 

184 

212 

MS 

273 

304 

365 

31 

61 

92 

122 
91 

4  DAY 
8     " 
12     " 

16    « 

20'" 

24     ' 

1  MO. 
2     | 

K    YR. 

o 

0 

o 

0 
0 

o 
o 

0 

I 

2 

3 
5 

o 
o 

0 
0 

o 
o 

X 
X 
2 

3 

s 

10 

o 

0 

o 

0 

X 
X 
X 
2 

3 

i 

is 

o 
o 
o 

X 
X 
2 
2 
2 

4 
5 

IO 

20 

o 
o 

X 
X 
2 
2 
2 

a 

t 

13 
25 

o 

0 

I 
a 

2 
2 

3 
3 
S 
7 

15 

30 

0 

X 
X 
2 
2 
3 

3 

I 

35 

o 

I 

2 
2 
2 

3 
3 
4 
7 

10 

20 

40 

o 

X 
2 
2 

3 
3 
4 

XI 

23 

45 

O 

X 
2 
2 

3 
4 
4 
4 
9 
13 
25 
5° 

6 

II 

17 

22 

28 

34 
39 
42 
84 

t.25 

2.50 
5  oo 

56 

X.IX 

1.67 

2.22 
2.28 
3-34 

3-39 
4.17 

8-34 
12.50 
25.00 
50.00 

September  

153 

181 

212 

242 

272 

303 

334 

365 

30 

61 
31 

October  

123 

151 

182 

212 

243 

273 

304 

335 

365 

61 

November  

61 

92 

120 

151 

181 

212 

242 

273 

304 

334 

365 
335 

30 
365 

December  

31 

62 

90 

121 

15? 

182 

212 

243 

274 

304 

The  above  table  g 
tween  any  day  in  a 
month.     To  ascert 
along  the  line  deslg 
hand,  until  It  reach 
at  the  top,  by  the  m 
figures  at  the  angle 
of  the  respective  m 
the  note  matures,  a 
month  from  which 
Example.—  A  not 
count  on  March  lot 
Ing  before  maturity 
The  figures  at  t 
Add  date  of  not 

Deduct  date 
Days  to  run 

Coining1  Press 

The/e  are  ten 

ives  the  n 
ly  nxmth 
ain  these 
na  ted  by  t 
es  Its  inter 
onth  in  w 
denote  th 
jntbs.    To 
nd  from  th 
t  is  reckon 
3  falling  di 
a  ;  wanted 

tie  angle  g 
e's  maturtt 

of  dlscoui 

• 

imber  of  days  Intervening  be- 
to  a  similar  date  in  any  other 
Intervening  days,  run  the  eye 
tie  of  the  month  on  the  left 
section  by  the  column  headed. 
iich  the  note  matures,  and  the 
;  number  of  days  from  the  first 
this  add  the  day  upon  which, 
e  sum  substract  the  date  of  the 
ed. 
le  June  26th  is  offered  for  dla- 
the  number  of  days  Intervtn- 

ve  ...                           ..  92 

6% 

$1 

$2 

$3 

$4 

$5 

$6 

$7 

$8 

$9 

$10 

$100 

$1000 

4  DAY 
8     " 
K     " 

16   " 

X  MO. 
2     " 

1- 

X  V?*" 

o 

0 
0 
0 

I 
I 

2 

§ 

O 
O 

o 

X 
X 
2 

12 

o 
o 

X 
X 
2 

3 

•5 

o 

0 

o 

0 

X 

X 

X 

7 

13 

20 
27 
50 
I.OO 

1.50- 

t.oo 
.00 

67 

1.33 

2-00 
9.67 

5  oo 

IO  OO 

15.00 
30.00 
6000 

X 
X 
2 

12 
24 

X 
X 

3 

IS 
30 

X 
2 

1 

36 

X 
2 

4 
7 

IX 
21 

2 
2 

i 

12 

24 

48 

2 
2 

5 
9 

27 

54 

2 

3 
5 

10 

15 
3° 
60 

it  . 

118 
10 

108 

ses  at  the  Philadelphia  Mint. 

Coining  presses,  each  one  capable  o 

Money  at  the  Philadelphia  Mint. 

The  first  money  coined  by  the  authority  of  the 
United  States  was  in  1793.  The  coins  first  made  were 
copper  cents.  In  the  following  year  (1794)  silver  dol 
lars  were  made.  Gold  eagles  were  made  in  1795.  The 
machinery  as  well  as  the  metal  first  used  was  imported, 
and  great  trouble  was  experienced  in  procuring  a  supply 
of  copper.  The  first  copper  used  by  the  Mint  came  from 
England. 

On  December  8,  1848,  the  first  deposit  of  gold  from 
California  was  received. 

The  largest  nugget  of  gold  ever  brought  to  the  Mint 
came  from  California  in  1852,  and  was  worth  nearly  six 
thousand  dollars  in  gold. 

The  sweepings  of  the  rooms  in  the  Mint  have  some 
times  proved  to  be  worth  $50,000  in  one  year. 

Up  to  the  year  1857,  the  base  coin  of  the  United 
\States  was  exclusively  copper.  In  this  year  the  coin 
age  of  what  was  called  the  nickel  cents  was  commenced. 
These  pieces,  although  called  nickel,  were  composed 
of  one-eighth  nickel,  the  balance  being  copper.  Since 
the  first  coinage  of  nickel  money,  the  pieces  have 
changed  two  or  three  times,  both  in  design  and 
mixture. 


making  from  seventy  to  one  hundred  and  twenty  coins 
per  minute.  They  are  seldom  run  at  a  greater  speed 
than  eighty  per  minute.  If  each  press  in  the  room 
was  run  at  its  greatest  capacity,  and  engaged  in  making 
double  eagles  ($20),  in  the  short  space  of  one  minute 
we  should  have  the  astonishing  sum  of  $34,000  manu 
factured.  Only  the  largest  presses  are  used  in  making 
coins  of  large  denomination.  The  small  presses  are 
used  for  base  coins  and  the  smaller  denominations  of 
silver  pieces.  The  amount  of  pressure  necessary  to 
making  a  perfect  coin  is  from  twenty  to  eighty  tons, 
The  larger  the  piece  the  more  pressure  is  required. 
The  deviation  of  a  hair's  breadth  would  spoil  the  coin. 
The  impressions  on  both  sides  of  the  coin  are  made 
with  one  motion  of  the  press.  A  steel  die,  whereon 
the  characters  to  be  placed  en  the  coin  have  been  en 
graved  or  dug  out,  is  fastened  by  means  of  screws,  on 
to  what  is  called  a  "  stake,"  and  placed  below  or  on 
the  bed  of  the  press.  It  is  set  about  the  thickness  of 
the  coin  below  the  surface,  and  is  surrounded  by  a 
"collar."  It  makes  no  material  difference  whether 
the  obverse  or  reverse  of  the  coin  is  below,  although 
the  latter  is  generally  placed  there.  On  a  portion  of 
the  machine  made  to  receive  it,  working  directly  over 
the  lower  die,  the  obverse  die  is  fixed,  and  on  this 
portion  the  pressure  is  regulated. 


ENCYLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


A  TABLE  OF  WAGES, 

Showing  Amounts  from  One  Hour  to  One  Week,  $2  to  $25. 


BAYS 

$2, 

$3.50 

$3. 

$3.60 

$4, 

$4.50 

$5. 

$5.50 

$8, 

$6.50 

$7.  |$7.60 

$8, 

$8.50 

$9. 

$9.50 

$1& 

"~T 

8 

11 

13 

15 

17 

19 

21 

23 

25 

27 

29 

31 

33 

35 

88 

40 

42 

1 

17 

21 

25 

29 

33 

38 

42 

46 

60 

54 

58 

63 

67 

71 

75 

79 

83 

i 

25 

31 

38 

44 

60 

56 

63 

69, 

75 

81 

88 

94 

1.00 

1.06 

1.13 

1.19 

1.25 

i 

33 

42 

50 

68 

67 

75 

83 

92 

1.00 

1.08 

1.17 

1.25 

1.33 

1.42 

1.50 

1.58 

1.67 

u 

42 

52 

63 

73 

83 

94 

1.04 

1.15 

1.25 

1.35 

1.46 

1.56 

1.67 

1.87 

1.88 

1.98 

2.08 

n 

50 

63 

75 

88 

1.00 

1.13 

1.25 

1.38 

1.50 

1.63 

1.75 

1.88 

2.00 

2.18 

2.25 

2.38 

2.50 

i* 

68 

73 

88 

1.02 

1.17 

1.31 

1.46 

1.60 

1.75 

1.90 

2.04 

2.19 

2.33 

2.48 

2.63 

2.77 

2.92 

2 

67 

83 

1.00 

1.17 

1.33 

1.50 

1.67 

1.83 

2.00 

2.17 

2.33 

2.50 

2.67 

2.83 

8.00 

3.17 

3.33 

2* 

75 

94 

1.13 

1.31 

1.50 

1.69 

1.87 

2.06 

2.25 

2.44 

2.63 

2.81 

3.00 

3.19 

3.37 

3.56 

3.75 

2i 

83 

1.04 

1.25 

1.46 

1.67 

1.87 

2.08 

2.29 

2.50 

2.71 

2.92 

3.13 

3.33 

3.54 

3.75 

3.96 

4.17 

2* 

92 

1.15 

1.38 

1.60 

1.83 

2.06 

2.29 

2.52 

2.75 

2.98 

3.21 

3.44 

3.67 

3.90 

4.13 

4.35 

4.58 

3 

1.00 

1.25 

1.60 

1.75 

2.00 

2.25 

2.50 

2.75 

3.00 

3.25 

3.50 

3.75 

4.00 

4.25 

4.50 

4.75 

5.00 

8* 

1.08 

1.35 

1.62 

1.90 

2.17 

2.44 

2.71 

2.98 

3.25 

3.62 

3.79 

4.06 

4.33 

4.60 

4.88 

5.15 

5.42 

8i 

1.17 

1.46 

1.75 

2.04 

2.33 

2.63 

2.92 

3.21 

3.50 

3.79 

4.08 

438 

4.67 

4.96 

5.25 

5.54 

2.83 

8* 

1.25 

1.56 

1.88 

2.19 

2,50 

2.81 

3.13 

3.44 

3.75 

4.06 

4.37 

4.69 

5.00 

5.31 

5.62 

5.94 

6.25 

4 

1.33 

1.67 

2.00 

2.33 

2.67 

3.00 

3.33 

3.67 

4.00 

4.33 

4.67 

5.00 

5.33 

5.67 

6.00 

6.33 

6.67 

4* 

1.42 

1.77 

2.13 

2.48 

2.83 

3.19 

3.54 

3.90 

4.25 

4.60 

4.96 

6,31 

5.67 

6.02 

6.37 

6.73 

7.08 

4* 

1.50 

L87 

2.25 

2.63 

3.00 

3.27 

3.75 

4.13 

4.50 

4.88 

5.25 

5.63 

6.00 

6.37 

6.75 

7.13 

7.49 

4* 

1.58 

1.98 

2.37 

2.77 

3.17 

3.56 

3.96 

4.35 

4.75 

5.15 

5.54 

5.94 

6.33 

6.73 

7.13 

7.53 

7.92 

5 

1.67 

2.08 

2.50 

2.92 

3.33 

3.75 

4.17 

4.58 

5.00 

5.42 

5.83 

6.25 

6.67 

7.08 

7.50 

7.92 

8.33 

6* 

1.75 

2.19 

2.63 

3.06 

3.50 

3.94 

4.38 

4.81 

5.25 

5.68 

6.13 

6.56 

7.00 

7.44 

7.88 

8.31 

8.76 

6i 

1.83 

2.29 

2.75 

3.21 

3.67 

4.13 

4.58 

5.04 

5.50 

5.95 

6.42 

6.88 

7.33 

7.79 

8.25 

8.71 

9.17, 

6* 

1.92 

2.40 

2.88 

3.35 

3.83 

4.31 

4.79 

5.27 

5.75 

6.22 

6.71 

7.19 

7.67 

8.15 

8.63 

^.10 

9.63 

6 

2.00 

2.50 

3.00 

3.50 

4.00 

4.50 

5.00 

5.50 

6.00 

6.50 

7.00 

7.50 

8.00 

8.50 

9.00 

6.50 

10.0 

nour 

3 

4 

6 

6 

7 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

12 

13 

14 

15 

16 

IT 

DAYS. 

$11 

$12 

$13 

$14 

$15  |  $16 

$17 

$18 

$19 

$20 

$21 

$22 

$23 

$25 

!i 

46 

60 

64 

68 

63 

67 

71 

75 

79 

84 

88 

92 

96 

1.06 

92 

1.00 

1.08 

1.17 

1.25 

1.33 

1.42 

1.50 

1.57 

1.67 

1.75 

1.83 

1.92 

2.13 

1.37 

1.60 

1.62 

1.78 

1.88 

2.00 

2.12 

2.25 

2.36 

2.41 

2.63 

2.75 

2.88 

3.19 

1 

1.83 

2.00 

2.17 

2.33 

2.50 

2.67 

2.83 

3.00 

3.17 

3.33 

3.50 

3.67 

3.83 

4.17 

It 

2.29 

2.50 

2.71 

2.92 

3.13 

3.33 

3.54 

3.75 

3.96 

4.17 

4.37 

4.58 

4.79 

5.21 

ai 

2.75 

3.00 

3.25 

3.50 

3.75 

4.00 

4.25 

4.50 

4.75 

5.00 

5.25 

5.50 

5.75 

6.25 

if 

3.21 

3.50 

3.79 

4.08 

4.38 

4.67 

4.96 

5.25 

5.54 

6.83 

6.13 

6.42 

6.71 

7.29 

2 

3.67 

4.00 

4.33 

4.67 

6.00 

5.33 

6.67 

6.00 

6.33 

6.67 

7.00 

7.33 

7.67 

8.33 

2* 

4.13 

4.50 

4.87 

6.25 

6.63 

6.00 

6.38 

6.75 

7.12 

7.60 

7.87 

8.25 

8.62 

9.37 

*i 

4.58 

6.00 

5.42 

5.83 

6.25 

6.67 

7.08 

7.50 

7.92 

8.33 

8.75 

9.17 

9.58 

10.42 

2J 

5.04 

5.50 

6.96 

6.42 

6.88 

7.33 

7.79 

8.25 

8.71 

9.17 

9.63 

10.08 

10.54 

11.46 

8 

5.50 

6.00 

6.50 

7.00 

7.50 

8.00 

8.50 

9.00 

9.50 

10.00 

10.50 

11.00 

11.50 

12.50 

Si 

SI 

6.96 
6.42 

6.50 
7.00 

7.04 
7.68 

7.58 
8.17 

8.13 
8.75 

8.67 
9.33 

9.21 
9.92 

9.75 
10.50 

10.29 
11.08 

10.83 
11.67 

11.37 
12.25 

11.92 
12.83 

12.46 
13.42 

13.54 
14.58 

8* 

6.88 

7.50 

8.13 

8.75 

9.38 

10.00 

10.63 

11.25 

11.88 

12.50 

13.13 

13.75 

14.37 

15.62 

4 

7.33 

8.00 

8.67 

9.33 

10.00 

10.67 

11.33 

12.00 

12.67 

13.33 

14.00 

14.67 

15.33 

16.67 

4* 

7.79 

8.50 

9.21 

9.92 

10.63 

11.33 

12.04 

12.75 

13.46 

14.17 

14,87 

15.58 

16.29 

17.71 

4i 

8.25 

9.00 

9.75 

10.60 

11.25 

12.00 

12.75 

13.50 

14.25 

15.00 

15.75 

16.50 

17.25 

18.75 

4* 

8.71 

9.50 

10.29 

11.08 

11.88 

12.67 

13.46 

14.25 

15.04 

15.83 

16.63 

17.42 

18.21 

19.79 

5 

9.f7 

10.00 

10.83 

11.67 

12.60 

13.33 

14.17 

15.00 

15.83 

16.67 

17.50 

18.33 

19.17 

20.83 

6* 

9.63 

10.50 

11.37 

12.25 

13.13 

14.00 

14.88 

15.75 

16.62 

17.50 

18.37 

19.25 

20.12 

21.87 

6i 

10.08 

11.00 

11.92 

12.83 

13.75 

14.67 

15.58 

16.50 

17.42 

18.33 

19.25 

20.17 

21.08 

22.92 

61 

10.54 

11.50 

12.46 

13.42 

14.38 

15.33 

16.29 

17.25 

18.21 

19.17 

20.13 

21.08 

22.04 

23.96 

6 

11.00 

12.00 

13.00 

14.00 

15.00 

16.00 

17.00 

18.00 

19.00 

20.00 

21.00 

22.00 

23.00 

25.00 

Psr  Hour 

18 

20 

22 

23 

25 

27 

28 

30 

32 

33 

35 

37 

38 

42 

IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 
BOARD  BY  THE  WEEK. 

Showing  the  rates  per  day  from  two  dollars  to  twelve  dollars  per  week. 


571 


&. 

$2 

$2.50 

$3 

$3.50 

$4 

$4.50 

$5 

$550 

$6 

*$8.BO 

1 

29 

36 

43 

50 

57 

64 

71 

79 

86 

93 

2 

67 

71 

86 

1.00 

1.14 

1.29 

1.43 

1.57 

1.71 

1.86 

3 

86 

1.07 

1.29 

1.50 

1.71 

1.93 

2.14 

2.36 

2.57 

2.79 

4 

1.14 

1.43 

1.71 

2.00 

2.29 

2.57 

2.86 

3.14 

3.43 

3.71 

6 

1.43 

1.79 

2.14 

2.50 

2.86 

3.21 

3.57 

3.93 

4.29 

4.64 

6 

1.71 

2.14 

2.57 

3.00 

3.43 

3.86 

4.29 

4.71 

5.14 

5.57 

7 

2.00 

2.50 

3.00 

3.50 

4.00 

4.50 

5.00 

5.50 

6.00 

6.50 

\0ays 

$7 

$7.60 

$8 

$8.50 

$9 

$9.50 

$10 

$10,50 

$11 

$12 

1 

1.00 

1.07 

1.14 

1.21 

1.29 

1.36 

1.43 

1.50 

1.57 

1.71 

2 

2.00 

2.14 

2.29 

2.43 

2.57 

2.71 

2.86 

3.00 

3.14 

3.43 

3 

3.00 

3.21 

3.43 

3.64 

3.86 

4.07 

4.29 

4.50 

4.71 

5.14 

4 

4.00 

4.29 

4.57 

4.86 

5.14 

5.43 

5.71 

6.00 

6.29 

6.8ft 

6 

5.00 

5.36 

5.71 

6.07 

6.43 

6.79 

7.14 

7.50 

7.86 

8.57 

6 

6.00 

6.43 

6.86 

7.29 

7.71 

8.14 

8.57 

9.00 

9.43 

10.29 

7 

7.00 

7.50 

8.00 

8.50 

9.00 

9.50 

10.00 

10.50 

11.00 

12.00 

LEGAL,  WEIGHT  OF  A  BUSHEL,  IN  DIFFERENT  STATES.* 


Arkansas ..... 

Arizona 

California  .... 

Colorado 

TTonncctlcut  ...... 

Dakota 

Delaware . 

District  Columbia 

Georgia 

Illinois 

Indiana........... 

.  Iowa 

!  'Kansas 

Kentucky 

'Louisiana 

(Maine 

Maryland  

Massachusetts  ... 
Michigan  _....—.. 
Minnesota  ........ 

Missouri 

1  Montana.... 

Nebraska  

Nevada. ._ 

New  Hampshire- 
New  Jersey... 

INewYork — 

North  Carolina  ... 

Ohio 

Oregon .. 

Pennsylvania 

Rhode  Island 

South  Carolina— . 
'Tennessee  ........ 

Vermont ..< 

'Virginia 

"Washington  Ter. . 

West  Virginia. 

"Wisconsin 


.60. 
.80. 
.60. 


-50.. 


60- 


Tur- 

nip«. 


.-.60- 

.60. 


-46 


Dried 

apple.. 


Drtod 
peach- 


Iba. 

..58.. 


Blue. 
grass 
Med. 


ItM. 

..14.. 


..60- 


cite. 

lb*. 

.80- 


.60. 
..60. 
..60. 

.60. 


.46. 


..58- 


.JSO.. 


-46II 


-57- 
-50- 


.00. 


.60- 


60- 


-60- 
-60- 


.60- 
..60- 
.60- 
,-60.. 
..60- 
-60- 


-58 


.-60. 
.60. 
..60. 
..60. 
..60. 
..60. 
..60. 
.60. 


..60.. 
..60- 
.-60.. 
..60.. 
..60- 


,.60. 
..60. 
,.60. 
.60. 


.32. 


70- 


-50.. 


..50 


-46- 


-60.. 
-00.. 
-.80.. 


.00. 


.48. 


.48. 


.48. 


-48- 


-42-, 
-52- 
-62- 
..53— 

-40- 


.30. 


32. 


-48- 
-50— 
..50.. 


-48- 


.-58- 
— 5tJ- 
-58- 


-5«- 
-54- 

-58- 


-58- 


-56- 


.70. 

ITO". 


.70. 
.70. 


.TO. 


'.m. 


TO 


-50  . 
-48- 
-50- 
-50- 


-50- 


IIsoII 


."50- 


..60- 


..80. 
.60. 
..60. 
.60. 
..60. 
..60. 
.60. 
..60. 
..60. 

!Ie6I 

.60. 
..58. 
,.60. 
..60. 
..60. 
..60. 
..60. 
..50. 
.-60. 
..60. 


—54.. 


50- 


.50. 


Is. 


.50. 


-60.. 


-60- 


.60- 

leo- 


-25. 
-24. 
-24. 


,.38. 
..33. 


-58- 
-58- 


-56- 


-14.. 

-14- 
..14- 
..14.. 


-60- 

..60. 

-60. 

-60.. 

-60.. 

-60.. 


.50- 
-50- 


-50.. 


-50- 


-50- 


-60 


..60.. 
-60.. 


-60- 


-60- 


.eo- 


-60.. 
.60- 
.60- 
.60.. 
.60- 
.50-. 
.60- 


.60- 
-60- 
-60- 

.60.. 


-28- 


-26- 
128- 


-28 


..28. 
.28. 
.33.. 


-28- 


ae. 


-68.. 
'.&.'. 


44- 


66- 


.45. 


.40. 


-14- 


-14- 
-14- 

-14.. 


-'14.. 
..14. . 


-14..- 


-64- 
-66".. 

."leo" 

-60.. 
..60.. 


-64. 
-60. 
-64. 
..60. 
-60. 


..60- 

-60" 
-60- 
..60- 
-60- 
-60- 


-80 


Some  States,  not  here  mentioned,  only  legalize  and  recognize.  the  Standard  United  States  bushel,  without  reference  to  weight. 

Value  of  Rare  American  Coins. 


Dollar  —  The  rarest  of  all  is  that  of  1804,  price  $400 
to  $500,  according  to  condition.  Half-dollar  —  That  of 
1796,  with  sixteen  stars,  price  $20  to  $27.50,  although 
thai  of  1796,  with  only  fifteen  stars,  and  that  of  1797, 
each  command  nearly  the  same  premium,  $20  to  $25. 


Quarter-dollar—  Those  of  1823  and  1827,  each  quoted 
at  $15  to  $25.  Dime  —  That  of  1804,  quoted  at  $4  to  $6. 
Half-dime  —  That  of  1802,  worth  $25  to  $40.  The  rarest 
of  all  the  cents  is  that  of  1799,  quoted  at  $4  to  $6,  Half- 
cent  —  1796,  worth  $5  to  $8,  or  from  one  thousand  to 
sixteen  hundred  per  cent,  more  than  its  face. 


572  ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 

WEIGHTS  AND  MEASURES. 

MEASURES  OF  WEIGHT.— A voirdupois;  z6  drams  equal 
z  ounce  :  16  ounces  z  pound ;  112  pounds  z  hundred  weight ; 
20  hundred  weight  z  ton.  Tray:  24  grains  equal  z  penny 
weight;  20  pennyweights  z  ounce;  12  ounces  z  pound. 
Apothecaries' :  20  grains  equal  z  scruple ;  3  scruples  z  dram ; 
8  drams  z  ounce ;  12  ounces  z  pound. 

SURFACE  OR  SQUARE  MEASURE.— Z44  square  inches 
equal  z  square  foot ;  9  square  feet  z  square  yard ;  30%  square 
yards  z  square  rod  ;  40  square  rods  z  square  rood ;  4  square 
roods  x  square  acre ;  640  square  acres  z  square  mile ;  4840 
square  yards  z  acre  ;  measure  200  feet  on  each  side  and  you 
will  have  a  square  acre  within  an  inch. 

MEASURES  OF  LENGTH.— A  palm  is  three  inches;  a  hand 
(horse  measure)  is  four  inches ;  a  span  is  zo%  inches;  a  cub  it 
is  two  feet ;  a  pace  is  three  feet ;  a  fathom  is  six  feet ;  a  grea  t 
cubit  is  zz  feet ;  x6',£  feet  equal  z  rod  ;  40  rods  z  furlong  ;  8 
furlongs  z  mile  ;  60  geo.  miles  z  degree ;  a  mile  is  5280  feet, 
or  Z76o  yards  in  length  :  a  league  is  3  miles ;  a  day's  journey 
is 33%  miles;  a  Sabbath  day's  journey  in  the  Bible  is  1155 
yards. 

SOLID  OR  CUBIC  MEASURE.— Z728  inches  equal  z  cubic 
foot;  27  cubic  feet  z  cubic  yard ;  40  cubic  feet  of  round  timber 
z  ton ;  50  cubic  feet  of  hewn  timber  z  ton ;  128  cubic  feet  of 
wood  (4  feet  wide,  4  feet  high,  and  8  feet  long)  z  cord ;  24  75 
cubic  feet,  z  perch  of  stone. 

-  HOUSEHOLD  WEIGHTS  AND  MEASURES.— Wheat  Flour, 
z  pound  is  z  quart ;  Indian  Meal  z  pound  2  oz.  is  one  quart ; 
Butter  (soft)  z  pound  is  one  quart ;  Loaf  Sugar,  z  pound  13  one 
quart ;  White  Sugar,  powdered,  z  pound  z  oz.  is  one  quart ; 
Brown  Sugar,  fine,  z  pound  2  oz.  is  z  quart ;  zo  Eggs  are  one 
pound ;  Flour,  8  quarts  are  z  peck,  4  pecks  are  one  DusheL 

LIQUIDS.— English  pint,  20  oz. ;  American  pint,  16  oz. ; 
4  gills,  z  pint;  2  pints,  z  quart;  4  quarts,  z  gallon;  tumbler, 
half  pint;  common  wine-glass,  2  oz. ;  large  wine-glass,  4  oz.; 
common  tea-cup,  7  oz. ;  5  table-spoons,  402.14  tea-spoons,  z  oz. 

POUNDS  PER  BUC""-.1-— Wheat,  60 pounds;  Corn,  shelled, 
56;  Corn  in  ear,  70;  i.ye,  60;  Oats,  32;  Potatoes,  60;  White 
Beans,  6b ;  Clover  Seed,  60 ;  Timothy.  35  ;  Flax  Seed,  56: 
Hemp,  42;  Peas  60;  Grass -Seed,  Z4 ;  Buckwheat,  42  ;  Dried 
Peaches,  33 ;  Dried  Apples,  26 ;  Onions,  57 ;  Stove  Coal,  80 ; 
Bran,  co ;  Plastering  Hair,  8;  Turnips,  55;  Unslaked  Lime, 
30 ;  Corn  Meal,  48 ;  Salt,  fine,  55 ;  Salt,  coarse,  50 ;  Barley,  48. 

CAPACITY  OF  BOXES. 

30  inches  Square,  z6JE£  inches  Deep,  will  contain  one  Barrel. 
'5 


VALUE  OF  FO^IUIGX  COINS, 

DENOMINATION. 

COUNTRY. 

Ecminlen* 
U.S.  Money.^ 

»4.8o. 

.69.8 

>.y6,V 
zx». 
z.oo.     ». 

.75.8  " 

Z.OO. 

•94- 
.19-3 
•34-5 

.40.3 

.19-3 
3-97- 
5-25- 
•19.3 
.62.9 

.23.§ 

.#L6 
z.o8. 
.19-3 

.9Z.2 

.92.6 

.04.9 
.044 
4^7- 
•55.8 
•33-a 
.24. 
.69.8 

•7°.  < 
•75* 

Spain  

Boliviano  
Bolivar  

Bolivia...'  
Venezuela  

Crown  

Nor'y,  Swed'n,  Den'k. 
British  America. 

Dollar.  .  . 

M 

Liberia.  ...        .     . 

« 

41 

Mexico  
Sandwich  Islands  
Spain  

« 

Drachma  

Greece  

Florin.  

Austria  

<i 

Netherlands  

Franc  

France,  Belg.,  Switz.  . 
Russia                    

Half  Imperial.  ,  

20  Kroner  

Nor'y,  Swed'n,  Den'k. 
Italy  

Lira  

Mahbub  of  20  piasters..  .  .  . 
Mark  

Tripoli  

Germ  an  Empire.  .  . 

Milreis  of  1000  reis.  .  . 

Brazil  

«         n          a 

Peseta  of  zoo  centimes  

Spain  

Peso.  , 

Chili  

ii 

Cuba.....  

«i 

Ecuador  

cc 

U.-S.  of  Columbia  
Egypt.  ......           ... 

Piaster.  .  .  . 

«< 

Turkey.  ...          

Pound  Sterling  (Sovereign  ) 
Rouble  of  100  copecks  

England  

Russia  

India  

Shilling  

soi..7T.  

Peru  

Thaler  C  3  marks)  ...j  

Germany  

Yen  

Taoan.  .  . 

17x14'  inches, 

ZOXZ2 

8  inches  Square, 
8     "  " 


half  a  Barrel, 
one  Bushel, 
half  a  Bushel, 
one  Peck, 
one  Gallon. 


8% 
43-16 

Rule  to  Find  the  Horse-power  of  a  Loco 
motive. 

Multiply  the  area  of  the  piston  by  the  measure  per 
square  inch,  which  should  be  taken  as  %  of  the  boiler 
pressure  ;  multiply  this  product  by  the  number  of  revo 
lutions  per  minute ;  multiply  this  by  twice  the  length 
of  the  stroke  in  feet  or  inches ;  if  in  inches  they  must 
be  divided  by  12  ;  multiply  this  product  by  2  and  divide 
by  33,000;  the  result  will  be  the  power  of  the  locomotive. 

To  Compute  tile  Volume  of  Bricks,  and  the 
Number  in  a  Cubic  Foot  of  Masonry. 

To  the  face  dimensions  of  the  particular  bricks  used 
add  one  half  the  thickness  of  the  mortar  or  the  cement 
in  which  they  are  laid  and  compute  the  area ;  divide 
the  width  of  the  wall  by  the  number  of  bricks  of  which 
it  is  composed ;  multiply  this  area  by  the  quotient  thus 
obtained,  and  the  product  will  give  the  volume  of  the 
mass  of  brick  and  its  mortar,  in  inches.  Divide  1728 
Dy  this  volume,  and  the  quotient  will  give  the  number 
cf  bricks  in  a  cubic  foot. 


Explanation  of  the  Currencies  of  the  -various  Countries. 

AUSTRIA  AND  RUSSIA.— The  Paper  Currencies  are  conr 
tinually  subject  to  important  fluctuations. 

In  FRANCE,  BELGIUM,  SWITZERLAND,  AND  ITALY  > 
franc  =  zoo  centimes.  GERMANY,  i  mark  =  zoo  pfennig. 
HOLLAND,  z  florin  or  gulden  =  100  cents.  NORWAY,  SWE 
DEN,  AND  DENMARK,  z  kroner=  100  ore.  UNITED  STATES, 
z  dollar  =  100  cents.  SPAIN,  z  peseta  =  zoocentavos.  AUS 
TRIA,  z  florin  =  zookreuzer.  PORTUGAL,  i  milreis=  zooo  reis. 
GREECE,  z  drachma  =  100  leptas.  TURKEY,  z  piaster=  40 
paras.  RUSSIA,  z  rouble  =  zoo  copecks. 

Italian  notes  and  silver  are  not  current  in  France,  Belgium, 
and  Switzerland,  but  the  silver  of  these  countries  passes  curn 
rent  in  Italy. 

Discovery  of  Gold  in  California. 

On  January  19,  1848,  John  W.  Marshall  was  building 
a  mill  for  himself  and  Sutter  on  the  south  fork  of  the 
American  River,  fifty-four  miles  east  of  Sutter's  Fort. 
This  mill,  it  was  expected,  would  supply  the  ranches 
and  settlements  with  pine  lumber.  On  this  particular 
morning  Marshall  picked  up  from  the  bed-rock  of  the 
race  of  the  mill  a  small  piece  of  yellow  metal  whick 
weighed  about  seventeen  grains.  It  was  malleable, 
heavier  than  silver,  and  in  all  respects  resembled  gold. 
Marshall  showed  the  piece  in  the  afternoon  to  those 
who  were  working  at  the  mill.  The  result  of  the  dis 
cussion  which  ensued  was  the  rejection  of  the  gold 
theory.  Marshall,  however,  was  not  satisfied,  and 
afterward  tested  it  with  nitric  acid,  and  found  it  was 
actually  gold.  He  discovered  pieces  like  it  in  all  the 
surrounding  gulches  wherever  he  dug  for  it.  The 
news  of  the  discovery  soon  spread,  and  in  April  re 
ports  of  the  find  were  published. 


IMPORTANT  FACTS  FOR  REFERENCE. 
INSTANTANEOUS  MULTIPLICATION  TABLE. 


573 


This  Table  shows  that  the 
large  figures  in  front  of  each 
double  row  are  intended  to 
multiply  the  small  head  fig 
ures  in  said  row;  for  in 
stance,  the  large  9  is  followed 
by  2, 3,  4, 5, 6, 7, 8,  etc.,  until 
0,  beneath  which  stands  the 


8  12  16 


6 


:  2  3  4  5 
J  10  15  20  25 

23456 
12  18  24  30  36 


increases  of  each,  multiplied 
by  9,  viz :  9  times  2  are  18 ; 
9  times  3  are  27 :  etc. ,  9  times 
9  are  81.  as  will  be  seen  at  the 
end  of  the  row ;  and  in  the 
last  row  24  times  2  are  48, 
etc.,  and  at  the  end  24  times 
24  are  576. 


7234567 
14  21  28  35  42  49 


8 


11 


2345678 
16  24  32  40  48  56  64 

23456781) 
18  27  36  45  54  63  72  81 

23456789    10 
20  30  40  50  60  70  80  90  100 

23466789   10   11 
22  33  44  55  66  77  88  99  110  121 


12 


2346678    9   10   11  12 
24  36  48  60  72  84  96108120132144 


13 


234667  8  9  10  11  12  13 
26  39  52  65  78  91 104 117  130 143 156 169 


14 


2345678  9  10  11  12  13  14 
28  42  56  70  84  98 112 126 140 154 168  182  196 


15 


23456  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15 
30  45  60  75  90  105 120 135 150 165 180 195  210  225 


16 


23456     78     9    10    11   12  13   14   15   16 
32  48  64  EO  96 112 128 144 160  176 192208  224  240  256 


17 


23456  7   8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17 
34  61  68  85 102 119 136 153 170  187  204  221  238  255  272  289 


18 


2345  67  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18 
36  54  72  90 '108 126 144 162 180  198  216  234  252  270  288  306  324 


19 


2345  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19 
38  5T  76  95  114  133  152  171 190  209  228  247  266  28-5  304  323  342  361 

234     567      8     9    10    11   12  13    14  15  16    17  18  19  20 

40  60  80  100 120 140 160 180  200  220  240  260  280  300  320  340  360  380  400 


21 


2345  6  7  8  9  :  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21 
42  63  84  105  126  147  168 189  210  231  252  273  294  315  336  357  378  399  420  441 


22 


234  567   8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22 
44  66  88  110  132 154  176  198  220  242  264  286  308  330  352  374  396  418  440  462  484 


23 


2345     6     7     8     9    10  11   12  13    14  15  16    17  18  19  20  21  22  23 
4&  69  92 115 138 161 184  207  230  253  276  299  322  345  368  391 414  437  460483  506529 


24 


23     4     5     6     7     8     9  10     11   12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23  24 
4872  96  120144168192216240264288312336360384408432456480504528552570 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

Synonyms  of  the  English  Language. 

In  this  Table  the  letter  a  means  adjective ;  v  means  verb ;  s  means  substantive  or  noun. 


ABACK,  backward,  back. 
Abaft,  sterowards,  aft,  behind. 
Abandon,  leave,  forsake,  desert,  renounce,  quit. 
Abandoned,  wicked,  reprobate,  dissolute. 
Abandonment,  leaving,  desertion,  dereliction. 
Abase,  lower,  humble,  humiliate,  degrade. 
Abasement,  degradation,  degeneracy,  abjection. 
Abash,  bewilder,  disconcert,  discompose. 
Abate,  lessen,  diminish,  bate,  reduce,  decrease. 
Abbreviate,  shorten,  abridge,  condense,  curtail. 
Abdicate,  give  up,  resign,  renounce,  abandon. 
Abet,  help,  encourage,  instigate,  incite,  assist. 
Abettor,  assistant,  accessory,  accomplice. 
Abhor,  dislike  intensely,  view  with  horror,  hate. 
Abide,  stay,  dwell,  live  with,  tarry,  remain. 
Abjure,  recant,  forswear,  disclaim,  revoke. 
Able,  strong,  powerful,  muscular,  stalwart. 
Abnormal,  anomalous,  unnatural,  irregular. 
Abode,  residence,  habitation,  dwelling,  home. 
Abolish,  quash,  destroy,  revoke,  abrogate. 
Abominable,  hateful,  detestable,  odious,  vile. 
Abominate,  dislike,  abhor,  loathe,  detest. 
Abortive,  fruitless,  ineffectual,  inoperative,  idle. 
About,  concerning,  regarding,  relative  to. 
Abridge,  shorten,  abbreviate,  contract,  curtail. 
Absolute,  entire,  complete,  unconditional. 
Absolve,  set  free,  loose,  clear,  acquit,  liberate. 
Absorb,  engross,  swallow  up,  engulf,  imbibe. 
Abstain  from,  keep  from,  refrain,  forbear. 
Abstemious,  moderate,  sober,  temperate. 
Abstract,  summary,  compendium,  abridgmen  . 
Accelerate,  hasten,  hurry,  expedite,  forward. 
Accept,  receive,  take,  admit. 
Acceptable,  agreeable,  pleasing,  pleasurable. 
Acceptation,  meaning,  signification. 
Access,  admission,  approach,  avenue. 
Accession,  increase,  augmentation,  enlargement. 
Accident,  casualty,  incident,  contingency. 
Accomplice,  confederate,  accessory,  abettor. 
Accomplish,  to  do,  effect,  finish,  execute. 
Accomplishment,  attainment,  qualification. 
Accord,  grant,  allow,  admit,  concede. 
Accordant,  compatible,  harmonious,  consonant. 
Accost,  salute,  address,  speak  to,  stop,  greet. 
Account,  assign,  adduce,  reckon,  compute. 
Accountable,  punishable,  answerable. 
Accoutre,  arm,  equip,  fit  out,  furnish  with  arms. 
Accredited,  authorized,  commissioned. 
Accumulate,  bring  together,  amass,  collect. 
Acquaint,  inform,  enlighten,  apprise. 
Acquaintance,  familiarity,  intimacy,  cognizance. 
Acquiesce,  agree,  accede,  assent,  comply. 
Acquire,  get,  obtain,  attain,  gain,  procure,  win. 
Acquirement,  accomplishment,  acquisition. 
Acquit,  pardon,  forgive,  discharge,  set  free. 
Action,  deed,  achievement,  feat,  exploit. 
Actual,  real,  positive,  genuine,  certain. 
Actuate,  move,  impel,  instigate,  induce,  pir%*npt. 

574 


Acute,  shrewd,  keen,  intelligent,  penetrating. 
Acuteness,  acumen,  penetration,  ingenuity. 
Adage,  saying,  maxim,  aphorism,  proverb. 
Adapt,  accommodate,  suit,  fit,  conform. 
Addicted,  devote,  wedded,  attached. 
Addition,  increase,  accession,  augmentation. 
Additional,  extra,  added,  supplemental. 
Address,  tact,  skill,  ability,  dexterity. 
Adherence,  adhesion,  attachment,  fidelity. 
Adherent,  follower,  partisan,  pupil,  disciple. 
Adhesion,  adherence,  attachment,  fidelity. 
Adopt,  take,  assume,  appropriate,  choose. 
Adorn,  beautify,  decorate,  embellish,  ornamep* 
Adroit,  skillful,  clever,  dexterous,  expert. 
Adulator,  flatterer,  parasite,  toady. 
Adulterate,  corrupt,  contaminate,  vitiate. 
Advance,  bring  forward,  adduce,  assign,  allege. 
Advancement,  preferment,  promotion. 
Advantage,  benefit,  good,  profit,  avail,  utility. 
Advantageous,  beneficial,  profitable,  salutary. 
Adventure,  incident,  occurrence,  casualty. 
Adventurous,  bold,  enterprising,  daring. 
Adversary,  opponent,  antagonist,  enemy,  foe. 
Advice,  warning,  counsel,  instruction. 
Advise,  acquaint,  inform,  communicate,  notify 
Advocate,  counsel,  defender,  upholder. 
Aerial,  airy,  light,  volatile,  etherial,  empyrial. 
Affability,  courteousness,  courtesy,  urbanity. 
Affair,  business,  matter,  question,  subject. 
Affect,  influence,  act  upon,  interfere  with,  feiga. 
Affecting,  touching,  pathetic,  melting,  moving. 
Affection,  fondness,  attachment,  kindness. 
Affectionate,  loving,  attached  to,  fond,  kind. 
Affinity,  relationship,  alliance,  kin,  union. 
Affirm,  swear,  assert,  asseverate,  declare,  aver. 
Affirmation,  asseveration,  protestation. 
Affix,  attach,  annex,  subjoin,  connect,  adjoin. 
Afterwards,  hereafter,  subsequently. 
Age,  period,  time,  date,  generation,  era,  epoch. 
Aged,  old,  elderly,  senile,  anile. 
Agency,  instrumentality,  influence,  operation. 
Aggrandize,  exalt,  promote,  prefer,  advance. 
Aggravate,  tantalize,  irritate,  inflame,  provoke. 
Aggregate,  total,  entire,  complete,  the  whole. 
Aggression,  encroachment,  assault,  attack. 
Agitation,  perturbation,  emotion,  trepidation. 
Agonize,  distress,  rack,  torture,  writhe. 
Agony,  anguish,  pang,  throe,  pain,  distress. 
Agree,  consent,  accede,  acquiesce,  comply. 
Agreeable,  gratifying,  pleasant,  pleasing. 
Agreement,  concurrence,  coincidence,  concorcL 
Aid,  help,  assist,  co-operate,  relieve,  succor. 
Aid,  assistance,  support,  sustenance,  succor. 
Ailing,  unwell,  sickly,  diseased,  ill. 
Aim,  direct,  point,  level,  endeavor  to  attain. 
Alleviate,  assuage,  mitigate,  soothe,  solace. 
Alliance,  affinity,  union,  connection,  relation. 
Allot,  assign,  apportion,  appropriate,  appoint. 


SYNONYMS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


575 


Allow,  admit,  concede,  yield,  grant,  give. 
Allowance,  pay,  wages,  grant,  stipend,  salary. 
Allude,  hint,  refer,  insinuate,  imply,  glance  at. 
Allure,  entice,  attract,  decoy,  tempt,  seduce. 
Always,  continually    ever,  perpetually. 
Amalgamate,  join,  compound,  mix. 
Amass,  accumulate,  collect,  gather,  heap  up. 
Amazing,  astonishing,  wondrous,  surprising. 
Ambiguous,  equivocal,  uncertain,  vague. 
Ameliorate,  improve,  amendment,  better. 
Amenable,  responsible,  accountable. 
Amend,  mend,  better,  improve,  correct,  rectify. 
Amends,  compensation,  recompense. 
Amiable,  loving,  pleasing,  engaging. 
Amicable,  friendly,  social,  sociable. 
Ample,  complete,  full,  wide,  spacious. 
Anchorite,  hermit,  recluse,  ascetic. 
Ancient,  old-fashioned,  old,  antique,  obsolete. 
Anguish,  woe,  agony,  pain,  distress,  suffering. 
Animating,  inspiring,  exhilarating,  inspiriting. 
Animating,  life,  vivacity,  spirit,  elasticity. 
Annals,  chronicles,  reports,  historical  accounts. 
Annex,  add,  attach,  affix,  append,  subjoin. 
Annihilate,  destroy,  annul,  extinguish,  nullify. 
Annoyance,  trouble,  uneasiness,  aiscomiort. 
Anomalous,  irregular,  abnormal,  eccentric. 
Answerable,  responsible,  accountable. 
Antagonism,  hostility,  animosity,  enmity. 
Antagonist,  opponent,  adversary,  enemy. 
Antagonistic,  hostile,  opposite,  adverse. 
Anticipate,  forestall,  foretaste,  prejudge. 
Antithesis,  contrast,  opposition. 
Anxiety,  care,  solicitude,  attention. 
Apathetic,  insensible,  impassive,  insensitive. 
Ape,  mimic,  mock,  imitate. 
Apocryphal,  uncertain,  unauthentic. 
Appeal,  refer,  invoke,  invocate,  call  upon. 
Appearance,  air,  look,  aspect,  manner,  mien. 
Appellation,  name,  denomination,  cognomen. 
Applaud,  praise,  extol,  commend,  approve. 
Applause  (see  Acclamation). 
Apportion,  distribute,  allot,  appropriate. 
Appreciate,  value,  reckon,  prize,  esteem. 
Approbation,  approval,  concurrence,  assent. 
Appropriate,  peculiar,  particular,  exclusive. 
Approval,  assent,  approbation,  concurrence. 
Arbitrator,  arbiter,  judge,  umpire,  referee. 
Ardent,  eager,  fervid,  hot,  fiery,  glowing. 
Argue,  discuss,  dispute,  debate. 
Arise,  ascend,  mount,  scale,  tower. 
Arouse,  stir  up,  awaken,  vivify,  excite. 
Array,  rank,  order,  disposal,  disposition. 
Arrest,  stop,  apprehend,  withhold,  keep  back. 
Arrogance,  assumption,  haughtiness,  pride. 
Ascend,  climb,  mount,  rise,  soar,  tower,  scale. 
Asperity,  acrimony,  acerbity,  harshness. 
Asperse,  accuse  falsely,  malign,  slander. 
Assault,  assail,  attack,  invade,  encounter. 
Assemble,  congregate,  collect,  gather,  muster. 
Assembly,  assemblage,  collection,  group. 
Assent,  consent,  accede,  acquiesce,  comply. 
Assert,  affirm,  declare,  aver,  protest,  maintain. 
Assign,  adduce,  allege,  advance. 
Assist,  help,  aid,  co-operate,  relieve,  succor. 
Assume,  pretend  to,  arrogate,  usurp. 
Assurance,  confidence,  certainty. 
Astonishing,  surprising,  wonderful,  striking. 
Athletic,  stalwart,  powerful,  brawny. 
Atrocious,  heinous,  enormous,  flagrant. 
Attach,  affix,  append,  subjoin,  annex,  adjoin. 


Attachment,  affection,  devotedness,  devwtion. 
Attract,  draw  to,  allure,  entice,  charm. 
Attractive,  winning,  charming,  captivating. 
Attribute,  quality,  property,  grace. 
Audacious,  assuming,  forward,  presumptuous. 
Augment,  increase,  enlarge,  extend. 
August,  majestic,  noble,  dignified,  stately. 
Auspices,  protection,  favor,  patronage. 
Auspicious,  fortunate,  favorable,  propitious. 
Austere,  rigid,  severe,  rigorous,  stern,  harsh. 
Authoritative,  commanding,  swaying. 
Authorized,  accredited,  empowered. 
Avarice,  covetousness,  cupidity,  greediness. 
Averse,  adverse,  hostile,  reluctant,  unwilling^ 
Aversion,  dislike,  antipathy,  hatred.  ^ 
Avocation,  employment,  calling,  business. 
Avow,  declare,  acknowledge,  recognize,  own 
Awaken,  arouse,  stir  up,  excite,  vivify. 
Award,  adjudge,  adjudicate,  judge,  determine 
Aware,  known,  sensible,  conscious,  cognizant 
Awkward,  rough,  clumsy,  unpolished. 
Awry,  crooked,  wry,  bent,  curved,  inflected. 

BAD,  wicked,  evil,  unsound,  unwholesome. 
Baffle,  defeat,  discomfit,  bewilder. 
Balance,  poise,  weigh,  neutralize,  counteract. 
Balmy,  fragrant,  sweet-scented,  odoriferous. 
Bear,  hold  up,  sustain,  support,  endure,  carry. 
Bearing,  manner,  deportment,  demeanor. 
Beastly,  brutish,  brutal,  sensual. 
Beat,  strike,  knock,  hit,  belabor,  thump,  dash. 
Beau,  sweetheart,  wooer,  lover,  suitor,  fop. 
Beautiful,  elegant,  beauteous,  handsome,  fair. 
Beautify,  adorn,  decorate,  embellish,  deck. 
Becoming,  befitting,  comely,  decent,  fit,  prope* 
Beg,  ask,  entreat,  crave,  solicit,  beseech. 
Beginning,  commencement,  outset,  opening. 
Beguile,  amuse,  entertain,  deceive,  mislead. 
Behavior,  conduct,  carriage,  demeanor. 
Benefaction,  gift,  donation,  alms,  charity. 
Beneficent,  benevolent,  bountiful,  bounteous. 
Benefit,  advantage,  good,  profit,  service. 
Benevolence,  beneficence,  benignity,  kindness. 
Benign,  benignant,  benevolent,  kind,  gracious. 
Bent,  inclination,  disposition,  tendency,  bias. 
Bereave,  deprive,  strip,  dispossess,  disarm. 
Beseech,  beg,  entreat,  crave,  solicit,  implore. 
Beset,  surround,  encompass,  embarrass. 
Betimes,  early,  soon,  shortly,  ere  long. 
Betoken,  augur,  presage,  forebode,  bode. 
Bile,  choler,  anger,  rage,  fury,  indignation. 
Bind,  tie,  restrain,  connect,  link. 
Binding,  astringent,  costive,  valid,  obligatory, 
Bitter,  harsh,  pungent,  poignant,  stinging. 
Black,  dark,  murky,  pitchy,  inky,  cimmsrian. 
Blacken,  defame,  calumniate,  slander. 
Blamable,  culpable,  censurable,  reprehensible. 
Blame,  reprove,  reprehend,  censure,  condemq 
Blameless,  inculpable,  guiltless,  sinless. 
Bland,  soft,  gentle,  mild,  kind,  gracious. 
Blank,  confused,  confounded,  dumbfounded. 
Blend,  mix,  amalgamate,  mingle,  commingle 
Blessedness,  bliss,  happiness,  felicity. 
Blind,  sightless,  eyeless,  unseeing. 
Bliss,  ecstacy,  felicity,  blessedness. 
Blithe,  gay,  blithesome,  cheerful,  merry. 
Blockhead,  dunce,  dolt,  dullard,  numskull. 
Bloody,  gory,  sanguinary,  ensanguined. 
Bloodshed,  carnage,  slaughter,  butchery. 
Bloom,  blossom,  bud,  sprout,  germinate. 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Blot,  stain,  blur,  speck,  flaw,  blemish,  defect. 

Blot  out,  wipe  out,  erase,  expunge,  delete. 

Bluff,  blustering,  burly,  swaggering,  hectoring. 

Blunder,  mistake,  error,  delusion. 

Blunt,  pointless,  obtuse,  edgeless,  unpolite. 

Border,  edge,  brim,  rim,  verge,  brink,  margin. 

Bordering  on,  contiguous  to,  conterminous  with. 

Bound,  limit,  circumscribe,  confine,  restrict. 
[Boundless,  unlimited,  unbounded,  infinite. 
Bounty,  munificence,  liberality,  generosity. 
•Brand,  stigmatize,  denounce,  mark. 

Bravado,  brag,  boast,  boasting,  vaunting. 

Brave,  courageous,  gallant,  chivalrous. 

Brief,  short,  concise,  compendious,  succinct. 

Bright,  clear,  lucid,  transparent,  limpid. 

Brisk,  active,  agile,  nimble,  lively,  quick. 

Brittle,  fragile,  frangible,  frail. 
Broad,  wide,  large,  ample,  expanded. 
Broil,  affray,  fray,  feud,  quarrel,  brawl. 
Broken-hearted,  disconsolate,  inconsolable. 
Brook,  endure,  suffer,  bear,  submit  to. 
Brotherly,  fraternal,  affectionate,  kind. 
Bruise,  break,  crush,  squeeze,  pulverize. 
Brunt,  shock,  onset,  assault,  attack. 
Burden,  load,  encumber,  embarrass. 
Burdensome,  heavy,  weighty,  ponderous,  bulky. 
Burning,  glowing,  ardent,  fervid,  impassioned. 
Burst,  break,  crack,  split,  rend. 
Bury,  inter,  inhume,  entomb,  immure. 
JJy-and-by,  anon,  shortly,  ere  long,  soon. 
Bystander,  onlooker,  spectator,  beholder. 

CABAL,  combination,  intrigue,  faction. 
Cajole,  coax,  wheedle,  flatter,  fawn. 
Calamitous,  disastrous,  fatal,  unfortunate. 
Calculate,  reckon,  guess,  suppose,  compute. 
Call  back,  retract,  recant,  recall,  revocate. 
Callous,  hard,  obdurate,  impenitent,  unfeeling. 
Calm,  tranquillize,  allay,  appease,  quiet,  hush. 
Calumniate,  vilify,  revile,  accuse  falsely. 
Caprice,  freak,  whim,  humor,  crotchet,  farn.*-. 
Captious,  touchy,  testy,  cross,  petulant. 
Captivate,  charm,  enchant,  fascin^e,  enrapture. 
Captivity,  imprisonment,  confinewsnt. 
Capture,  catch,  seize,  grasp,  arrest,  apprehend. 
Care,  anxiety,  Solicitude,  concern,  attention. 
Career,  history,  course,  race,  passage,  life.  ^ 
Carnal,  fleshly,  sensual,  voluptuous,  luxurious. 
Carriage,  walk,  bearing,  deportment,  gait. 
Carry,  bear,  sustain,  convey,  transport. 
Carry  on,  conduct,  manage,  regulate,  direct. 
Case,  condition,  state,  circumstance,  plight, 
^astdown,  discouraged,  downcast,  dejected. 
Cast  off,  reject,  forsake,  abandon,  discard. 
Casualty,  accident,  contingency,  incident. 
Catalogue,  list,  roll,  record,  inventory,  index. 
•Cede,  give  up,  surrender,  relinquish,  quit. 
Celebrate,  commend,  applaud,  laud,  extol. 
Celebrated,  famous,  renowned,  far-famed.  ^ 
Celerity,  quickness,  speed,  rapidity,  velocity. 
Celestial,  heavenly,  divine,  godlike,  seraphic, 
tensure,  blame,  reprehend,  reprobate. 
Ceremony,  form,  observance,  rite,  solemnity. 
Certain,  sure,  indubitable,  unquestionable. 
Certify,  testify,  vouch,  declare. 
Change,  alter,  vary,  transform,  exchange. 
Changeable,  variable,  unsteady,  undecided. 
Character,  cast,  turn,  tone,  description. 
Characteristic,  peculiar  to,  sign  of,  feature. 
Characterize,  name,  designate,  denominate. 


Charge,  accuse,  impeach,  arraigr,  inculpate. 
Charity,  kindness,  benignity,  beneficence. 
Charm,  enchant,  fascinate,  bewitch,  enrapturBc 
Cheerless,  brokenhearted,  comfortless. 
Cherish,  nourish,  nurture,  nurse,  foster. 
Chide,  reprove,  rebuke,  reprimand. 
Chief,  principal,  main,  supreme,  paramount. 
Choice,  rare,  select,  option. 
Choose,  prefer,  select,  elect,  call,  pick. 
Chronicle,  record,  register,  enrol. 
Circuitous,  roundabout,  tortuous,  flexuous. 
Circulate,  spread,  diffuse,  disseminate. 
Civilize,  polish,  humanize,  cultivate,  refine. 
Claim,  ask,  demand,  challenge,  call  for,  plead. 
Clamor,  outcry,  fuss,  noise,  hubbub,  uproar. 
Clandestine,  hidden,  secret,  private. 
Class,  order,  rank,  degree,  grade,  category. 
Clause,  stipulation,  proviso,  term,  article. 
Clean,  cleanse,  clarify,  purify. 
Clear,  absolve,  acquit,  liberate,  deliver,  release. 
Clearly,  palpably,  obviously,  distinctly. 
Clemency,  leniency,  mercy,  mildness. 
Clever,  skillful,  expert,  dexterous,  adroit. 
Climb,  get  up,  scale,  mount,  soar,  tower. 
Clumsy,  awkward,  unpolished,  uncourtly. 
Clutch,  grasp,  lay  hold  on,  catch,  seize,  grip. 
Coagulate,  thicken,  concrete,  clot,  curdle. 
Coalition,  union,  alliance,  confederacy. 
Coarse,  rongh,  rude,  rugged,  gruff,  harsh. 
Coax,  cajole,  wheedle,  flatter. 
Coeval,  contemporaneous,  contemporary. 
Cogent,  forcible,  strong,  valid,  irresistable. 
Coincide,  agree,  correspond,  concur. 
Coincidence,  concurrence,  correspondence. 
Colleague,  fellow,  compeer,  companion. 
Collect,  gather,  assemble,  muster,  congregate. 
Combat,  engagement,  conflict,  contest,  fight. 
Combination,  alliance,  union,  league. 
Comely,  becoming,  decent,  seemly,  agreeable. 
Comfort,  solace,  console,  encourage,  revive- 
Comfortless,  cheerless,  forlorn,  disconsolate. 
Comic,  funny,  laughable,  droll,  ludicrous. 
Command,  order,  decree,  injunction,  mandate; 
Commence,  begin,  enter  upon. 
Commend,  praise,  applaud,  extol,  eulogize. 
Commendable,  praiseworthy,  laudable. 
Comment,  observation,  remark,  annotation. 
Commerce,  dealing,  trade,  intercourse. 
Company,  association,  society,  assembly. 
Companion,  comrade,  coadjutor,  partner,  ally. 
Comparison,  simile,  similitude,  illustration. 
Compass,  encircle,  environ,  encompass. 
Compassion,  pity,  commiseration,  sympathy. 
Compassionate,  kind,  merciful,  clement. 
Compatible,  consistent,  consonant,  accordant. 
Compel,  force,  constrain,  coerce,  enforce. 
Compendious,  brief,  short,  succinct,  concise. 
Complaint,  malady,  disease,  distemper. 
Complete,  accomplish,  fulfil,  realize,  execute. 
Complex,  compound,  complicated,  involved. 
Complexion,  aspect,  appearance,  feature. 
Complicated,  complex,  compound,  involved. 
Compliment,  praise,  flatter,  adulate,  applaud 
Comply,  yield,  accede,  assent,  consent. 
Compose,  form,  compound,  put  together. 
Composed,  serene,  placid,  calm,  collected. 
Compound,  complex,  complicated,  intricate. 
Comprehend,  comprise,  take  in,  embrace. 
Comprehension,  capacity,  capability. 
Comprehensive,  extensive,  broad,  wide. 


SYNONYMS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


577 


Conceited,  proud,  vain,  egotistical. 
Conceive,  think  of,  imagine,  suppose. 
Conception,  notion,  idea,  thought,  perception. 
Concern,  affair,  business,  matter,  care,  regard. 
Concerning,  respecting,  regarding,  relative  to. 
Concert,  contrive,  devise,  design,  manage. 
Concerted,  joint  co-operation,  designed. 
Concise,  brief,  short,  succinct. 
Conclude,  end,  close,  finish,  terminate. 
Conclusion,  erd,  upshot,  event,  inference. 
Condense,  compress,  press,  squeeze,  contract. 
Condition,  state,  plight,  case,  predicament. 
Condolence,  sympathy,  commiseration. 
Conduce,  contribute,  subserve,  incline,  tend. 
Conducive,  furthering,  promoting,  auxiliary. 
Conduct,  behavior,  demeanor,  deportment. 
Conduct,  guide,  lead,  direct,  manage. 
Confederate,  accomplice,  accessory,  abettor. 
Confer,  bestow,  give,  discourse,  converse. 
Conference,  meeting,  conversation,  talk. 
Confess,  acknowledge,  avow,  own,  recognize. 
Confide,  trust,  repose,  depend,  rely. 
Confused,  muddled,  mixed,  bewildered. 
Confusion,  disorder,  derangement,  chaos. 
Confute,  refute,  disprove,  belie. 
Congregate,  assemble,  collect,  gather   muster. 
Conjecture,  guess,  surmise,  supposition. 
Conjure,  adjure,  beseech,  entreat,  implore. 
Connect,  join,  link,  bind. 
Connected,  joined,  related,  akin,  kindred. 
Connection,  union,  alliance,  coalition. 
Consequence,  effect,  result,  event,  issue. 
Consider,  reflect,  regard,  ponder,  deliberate 
Considerate,  thoughtful,  reflective,  prudent. 
Consistent,  consonant,  compatible. 
Console,  solace,  comfort,  soothe. 
Conspicuous,  distinguished,  noted. 
Constancy,  firmness,  stability,  steadiness. 
Constantly,  ever,  always,  continually. 
Constitute,  make,  form,  compose,  mould. 
Constitutional,  legal,  regulated,  organized. 
Constrain,  compel,  force,  coerce,  impel. 
Construct,  build,  make,  erect,  compile. 
Construction,  interpretation,  version. 
Contemptible,  mean,  vile,  despicable,  pitiful. 
Contemptuous,  disdainful,  scornful,  insolent. 
Contend,  contest,  debate,  argue,  dispute,  cope. 
Contention,  strife,  discord,  discussion,  wrangle. 
Contest,  combat,  conflict,  fight,  competition. 
Contiguous,  adjacent,  adjoining,  next  to. 
Contingency,  casualty,  accident,  incident. 
Continual,  unceasing,  incessant,  continuous. 
Contract,  agreement,  compact,  bargain. 
Contradict,  oppose,  deny,  gainsay,  controvert. 
Contrary,  adverse,  opposite,  antagonistic. 
Contribute,  give  to,  co-operate,  conspire. 
Contrition,  repentance,  penitence,  remorse. 
Contrivance,  plan,  device,  scheme,  design. 
Control,  check,  curb,  repress,  restrain,  govern. 
Controversy,  debate,  contest,  discussion. 
Convene,  call  together,  bring  together,  convoke. 
Convenient,  commodious,  suitable,  adapted. 
Convention,  assembly,  meeting,  convocation. 
Conventional,  usual,  ordinary,  fashionable. 
Conversant,  acquainted  with,  familiar. 
Conversation,  dialogue,  conference,  talk. 
Converse,  reverse,  opposite,  discourse. 
Copy,  model,  pattern,  imitation,  transcript. 
Corporal,  corporeal,  bodily,  material,  physical. 
Coruulent,  portly,  stout,  lusty,  plethoric. 

37 


Correct,  accurate,  exact,  precise,  proper. 
Correction,  discipline,  punishment. 
Correspond,  fit,  tally,  answer,  suit. 
Correspondence,  letters,  intercourse. 
Correspondent,  similar,  counterpart,  suitable. 
Costly,  expensive,  valuable,  precious. 
Council,  assembly,  company,  congress,  meeting. 
Counsel,  advise,  instruction,  intelligence. 
Count,  calculate,  compute,  reckon,  estimate. 
Countenance,  encourage,  support,  confirm. 
Counterfeit,  spurious,  forged,  imitated,  false. 
Counterpart,  converse,  adverse,  correspondent 
Countless,  innumerable,  numberless. 
Courage,  resolution,  fortitude,  fearlessness. 
Course,  way,  road,  route,  passage,  race. 
Crafty,  cunning,  artful,  sly,  subtle,  wily. 
Crave,  beg,  entreat,  solicit,  beseech,  implore. 
Crazy,  crack-brained,  imbecile,  foolish. 
Create,  make,  form,  cause,  produce,  generate. 
Credence,  belief,  faith,  confidence. 
Credential,  missive,  diploma,  title,  testament. 
Credit,  belief,  trustworthiness,  reputation. 
Credulity,  gullibility,  simplicity. 
Crest,  top,  summit,  apex,  head,  crown. 
Critical,  nice,  exact,  fastidious,  precarious. 
Criticize,  examine,  scan,  analyze,  discuss. 
Cross,  ill-tempered,  fretful,  ill-humored. 
Crude,  raw,  undigested,  unconsidered. 
Cruel,  savage,  barbarous,  inhuman. 
Cupidity,  meanness,  avarice,  stinginess. 
Curb,  restrain,  hold,  check,  moderate. 
Curiosity,  inquisitiveness,  interest,  rarity. 
Curious,  inquiring,  inquisitive,  searching. 
Curse,  malediction,  anathema,  bane,  blight. 
Cursory,  summary,  rapid,  superficial. 
Custody,  keeping,  guardianship,  conservation 

DARK,  black,  dusty,  sable,  swarthy,  opaque. 
Dash,  hurl,  cast,  throw,  drive,  rush,  send,  fly. 
Dauntless,  valiant,  gallant,  fearless,  intrepid. 
Dawn,  gleam,  begin,  rise,  open,  break. 
Dead,  defunct,  deceased,  departed,  gone. 
Deaf,  disinclined,  averse,  inexorable,  insensible. 
Death,  departure,  demise,  decease. 
Debt,  liability,  default,  obligation. 
Decay,  decline,  wane,  dwindle,  waste,  ebb. 
Decayed,  rotten,  corrupt,  unsound. 
Deceit,  cheat,  imposition,  trick,  delusion. 
Deceive,  trick,  cheat,  beguile,  delude,  mislead. 
Decide,  determine,  settle,  adjudicate. 
Decipher,  read,  spell,  interpret,  solve. 
Decision,  determination,  conclusion. 
Declaim,  speak,  debate,  harangue,  recite. 
Declamation,  oratory,  elocution,  harangue. 
Declaration,  avowal,  manifestation. 
Declivity,  descent,  fall,  slope,  incline. 
Default,  lapse,  forfeit,  omission,  absence. 
Defeat   conquer,  overcome,  worst,  rout. 
Defect,  imperfection,  flaw,  fault,  blemish- 
Defence,  excuse,  plea,  vindication,  bulwark. 
Defend,  guard,  protect,  justify. 
Defer,  delay,  postpone,  put  off,  prorogue. 
Deference,  respect,  honor,  attention. 
Deficient,  short,  wanting,  inadequate,  scanty, 
Defile,  pollute,  corrupt,  sully. 
Define,  fix,  settle,  determine,  limit. 
Definite,  precise,  exact,  correct,  fixed. 
Deformity,  ugliness,  disfigurement. 
Deliberate,  consider,  meditate,  consult,  pondet. 
Delicacy,  nicety,  dainty,  refinement,  tact. 


578 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Delight,  enjoyment,  pleasure,  happiness. 
Deliver,  liberate,  free,  rescue,  pronounce. 
Demonstrate,  prove,  show,  exhibit,  illustrate. 
Denude,  strip,  divest,  lay  bare. 
Deny,  refuse,  reject,  withhold,  negative. 
Depart,  leave,  quit,  go,  decamp,  start,  sally. 
Department,  section,  division,  office,  branch. 
Deprive,  strip,  bereave,  despoil,  rob,  divest. 
Depute,  appoint,  commission,  charge,  entrust. 
Deputy,  vicegerent,  lieutenant,  representative. 
Desire,  longing,  affection,  craving. 
Desist,  cease,  stop,  discontinue,  drop,  abstain. 
Desolate,  bereaved,  forlorn,  forsaken,  deserted. 
Despair,  hopelessness,  despondency. 
Desperate,  v/ild,  daring,  audacious,  determined. 
Destine,  purpose,  intend,  design,  devote. 
Destination,  purpose,  intention,  design. 
Destiny,  fate,  decree,  doom,  end. 
Deter,  warn,  stop,  dissuade,  disspirit. 
Detract,  lessen,  deteriorate,  depreciate. 
Detriment,  loss,  harm,  injury,  deterioration. 
Detrimental,  injurious,  hurtful,  pernicious. 
Develop,  enunciate,  amplify,  expand,  enlarge. 
Device,  artifice,  expedient,  contrivance. 
Devious,  tortuous,  circuitous,  roundabout. 
Devoid,  void,  wanting,  destitute,  unendowed. 
Devolve,  impose,  place,  charge,  commissior 
Devoted,  attached,  fond,  absorbed,  dedicated. 
Devotion,  piety,  devoutness,  religiousness. 
Devour,  eat,  consume,  swallow,  gorge,  bolt. 
Dictate,  prompt,  suggest,  enjoin,  order. 
Dilapidation,  ruin,  decay,  disintegration. 
Dilate,  stretch,  widen,  expand,  swell,  distend. 
Dilatory,  tardy,  procrastinating,  lagging. 
Diligence,  care,  assiduity,  attention,  heed. 
Dimension,  measurement,  size,  configuration. 
Diminish,  lessen,  reduce,  contract,  curtail. 
Dingy,  dim,  dull,  dusky,  rusty,  colorless. 
Discernment,  discrimination,  penetration. 
Discipline,  order,  strictness,  training,  coercion. 
Disclose,  discover,  reveal,  confess,  detect. 
Discomfort,  disquiet,  vexation,  annoyance. 
Disconcert,  abash,  confui^,  confound,  upset. 
Disconsolate,  sad,  forlorn,  melancholy,  woeful. 
Discover,  make  known,  find,  invent,  contrive. 
Discredit,  disgrace,  disrepute,  dishonor. 
Discreditable,  shameful,  disgraceful. 
Discreet,  cautious,  prudent,  wary. 
Discrepancy,  disagreement,  difference. 
Discrimination,  acuteness,  discernment. 
Discuss,  argue,  sift,  debate,  examine. 
Disdain,  contempt,  scorn,  haughtiness. 
Dismay,  terrify,  frighten,  scare,  daunt,  appal. 
Dismay,  terror,  dread,  fear,  fright. 
Dismiss,  send  off,  discharge,  discard,  banish. 
Disorder,  disease,  malady,  complaint. 
Disorderly,  irregular,  confused,  lawless. 
Disown,  renounce,  deny,  disclaim,  ignore. 
Dispel,  scatter,  drive  away,  disperse. 
Display,  show,  spread  out,  exhibit,  expose. 
Displease,  offend,  vex,  anger,  provoke,  irritate. 
Dispose,  arrange,  place,  order,  give,  bestow. 
Dispute,  argue,  contest,  contend,  question. 
Distance,  interval,  remoteness,  space. 
Distinct,  clear,  plain,  obvious,  different. 
Distinguish,  perceive,  discern,  mark  out. 
Distinguished,  famous,  glorious,  far-famed. 
Distract,  disturb,  perplex,  bewilder,  madden. 
Distress,  trouble,  pain,  afflict,  grieve,  seize. 
Distribute,  allot,  share,  dispense,  apportion. 


District,  country,  region,  quarter,  clime. 
Disturb,  derange,  discompose,  agitate,  route. 
Divert,  please,  gratify,  amuse,  entertain. 
Divide,  part,  separate,  distribute,  deal  out. 
Divine,  godlike,  holy,  heavenly,  sacred. 
Do,  effect,  make,  perform,  accomplish,  finish. 
Docile,  tractable,  teachable,  compliant,  tame. 
Doctrine,  tenet,  articles  of  belief,  creed,  dogme^ 
Doleful,  dolorous,  rueful,  dismal,  piteous. 
Doom,  sentence,  verdict,  judgment,  fate,  lot. 
Drill,  train,  teach,  discipline,  perforate,  bore. 
Drive,  force,  urge,  press,  compel,  guide,  direct. 
Droll,  funny,  laughable,  comic,  whimsical. 
Drown,  inundate,  swamp,  submerge. 
Drowsy,  sleepy,  heavy,  dozy. 
Dry,  arid,  parched,  lifeless,  dull,  tedious. 
Due,  owing  to,  attributable  to,  just,  fair. 
Dull,  stupid,  gloomy,  sad,  dismal. 
Dupe,  trick,  beguile,  gull,  cheat,  deceive. 
Durable,  lasting,  permanent,  abiding. 
Dutiful,  obedient,  submissive,  respectful. 

EARN,  acquire,  obtain,  win,  gain,  achieve. 
Earnest,  ardent,  serious,  grave,  solemn,  warm. 
Earthly,  sordid,  selfish,  venal,  mercenary. 
Ease,  calm,  alleviate,  allay,  mitigate,  appease. 
Eccentric,  irregular,  anomalous,  singular,  odd. 
Eclipse,  shade,  overcast,  cloud. 
Economical,  sparing,  saving,  provident. 
Edge,  border,  brink,  rim,  brim,  margin,  vergfe, 
Efface,  blot  out,  expunge,  obliterate. 
Effect,  consequence,  result,  issue,  event. 
Effective,  efficient,  operative,  serviceable. 
Eloquence,  oratory,  rhetoric,  declamation. 
Elucidate,  make  plain,  explain,  clear  tin. 
Elude,  evade,  escape,  avoid,  shun. 
Embarrass,  perplex,  entangle,  distress,  trouble. 
Embellish,  adorn,  decorate,  bedeck,  beautify. 
Embolden,  inspirit,  animate,  encourage,  cheer. 
Embrace,  clasp,  hug,  comprise,  comprehend. 
Eminent,  distinguished,  signal,  conspicuous. 
Emit,  give  out,  throw  out,  exhale,  discharge. 
Empty,  void,  devoid,  hollow,  unfilled. 
Enchanted,  charmed,  captivated,  fascinated. 
Encircle,  enclose,  embrace,  encompass. 
Enclose,  fence  in,  confine,  circumscribe. 
Encompass,  encircle,  surround,  gird,  begird. 
Encounter,  attack,  conflict,  combat,  assault. 
Encourage,  countenance,  sanction,  support. 
End,  aim,  object,  purpose,  result,  conclusion. 
Endanger,  imperil,  peril,  hazard,  jeopardize. 
Energy,  force,  vigor,  efficacy,  potency. 
Engage,  employ,  busy,  occupy,  attract,  invite. 
Engagement,  word,  promise,  battle,  action. 
Engross,  absorb,  take  up,  busy,  occupy,  engage. 
Engulf,  swallow  up,  absorb,  imbibe,  drown. 
Enjoin,  order,  ordain,  appoint,  prescribe. 
Enjoyment,  pleasure,  gratification. 
Enlarge,  increase,  extend,  augment,  broaden. 
Enlighten,  illumine,  illuminate,  instruct. 
Enraged,  infuriated,  raging,  wrathful. 
Enrapture,  enchant,  fascinate,  charm,  captivatU 
Entangle,  perplex,  embarrass,  inveigle. 
Enterprise,  adventure,  undertaking,  effort. 
Entertainment,  amusement,  divertisement. 
Enthusiasm,  zeal,  ardor,  fervor,  warmth. 
Entice,  allure,  attract,  decoy,  lure,  tempt. 
Entire,  whole,  complete,  perfect,  total. 
Entitled,  named,  designated,  denominated. 
Entrance,  entry,  inlet,  ingress,  porch,  portaL 


SYNONYMS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


Entreat,  beg,  crave,  solicit,  beseech,  implore. 
Enumerate,  tell  over,  relate,  narrate,  recount. 
Erring,  misguided,  misled. 
Error,  mistake,  fallacy,  blunder,  hallucination. 
Escape,  elude,  evade. 

Especially,  particularly,  specially,  mainly. 
Essay,  attempt,  trial,  endeavor,  effort,  tract. 
Essential,  necessary,  indispensable,  requisite. 
Establish,  institute,  found,  organize,  confirm. 
Estate,  domain,  demesne,  lands,  property. 
Esteem,  prize,  value,  appreciate,  respect. 
Estimate,  value,  measure,  compute,  calculate. 
Eternal,  everlasting,  endless,  infinite,  perpetual. 
Evade,  escape,  elude,  equivocate,  prevaricate. 
Evasion,  shift,  subterfuge,  prevarication. 
Even,  equal,  equable,  uniform,  smooth,  plain. 
Event,  incident,  occurrence,  accident. 
Ever,  always,  eternally,  everlastingly,  evermore. 
Everlasting,  endless,  infinite. 
Evidence,  manifest,  prove,  evince,  demonstrate. 
Evident,  clear,  plain,  manifest,  apparent. 
Evil,  wicked,  ill,  bad,  unfair,  misfortune. 
Evince,  show,  argue,  prove,  evidence,  manifest. 
Evoke,  call  out,  invite,  summon,  challenge. 
Exact,  accurate,  correct,  definite,  precise. 
Exaggerated,  overstated,  heightened,  amplified. 
Exalt,  raise,  elevate,  erect,  lift  up,  dignify. 
Examination,  search,  inquiry,  research. 
Exchange,  change,  barter,  truck,  commute. 
Exchange,  barter,  dealing,  trade,  traffic. 
Excitable,  irritable,  susceptible. 
Excite,  incite,  arouse,  awaken,  stir  up,  disquiet.     ) 
Exclaim,  call  out,  shout,  cry,  ejaculate. 
Exclude,  shut  out,  debar,  preclude,  seclude. 
Exclusive,  sole,  only,  alone. 
Excursion,  trip,  ramble,  tour. 
Excusable,  pardonable,  venial. 
Excuse,  palliate,  mitigate,  acquit,  justify. 
Excuse,  plea,  justification,  pretence,  pretext. 
Execrable,  abominable,  detestable,  hateful. 
Execute,  accomplish,  effectuate,  fulfil,  effect. 
Exemption,  freedom,  immunity,  privilege. 
Exercise,  exert,  practice,  pursue,  carry  on. 
Exhale,  emit,  give  out,  smoke,  steam. 
Exhaust,  spend,  drain,  empty,  debilitate. 
Exhibition,  show,  sight,  spectacle,  pageant. 
Exile,  banishment,  deportation,  expatriation. 
Exonerate,  clear,  acquit,  discharge,  absolve. 
Exorbitant,  excessive,  extortionate. 
Expand,  spread,  diffuse,  dilate,  extend,  enlarge.     > 
Expectancy,  expectation,  waiting  for,  hope. 
Expectation,  expectancy,  waiting  for,  hope. 
Expedient,  fit,  necessary,  essential,  requisite. 
Expedite,  accelerate,  quicken,  hasten,  facilitate. 
Expel,  drive  out,  eject,  dispossess,  dislodge. 
Explicit,  express,  plain;  definite,  positive. 
Exploit,  achievement,  feat,  deed. 
Expound,  explain,  interpret,  unfold,  elucidate. 
Express,  explicit,  plain,  positive,  definite. 
Expressive,  significant,  energetic,  emphatic. 
Expunge,  blot  out,  wipe  out,  obliterate,  efface. 
Exquisitely,  pre-eminently,  superlatively. 
Extend,  enlarge,  amplify,  expand,  increase. 
Extensive,  comprehensive,  wide,  large. 
Exterior,  outward,  outerj  external. 
Exterminate,  eradicate,  root  out,  annihilate. 
Extreme,  utmost,  farthest,  most  distant. 
Extricate,  free,  disengage,  disentangle. 
Exuberant,  plenteous,  plentiful,  luxuriant. 
Exultation,  transport,  joy,  triumph. 


FABRIC,  edifice,  structure,  pile. 
Fabricate,  invent,  frame,  feign,  forge,  coin. 
Face,  front,  confront,  encounter. 
Facetious,  jocose,  jocular,  pleasant. 
Facile,  easy,  pliable,  flexible. 
Fact,  reality,  incident,  circumstance. 
Faculty,  ability,  gift,  talent,  endowment. 
Failing,  imperfection,  weakness,  frailty,  foible- 
Failure,  omission,  neglect,  default. 
Falter,  halt,  stammer,  stutter,  hesitate. 
Fame,  reputation,  glory,  renown,  celebrity. 
Famed,  famous,  far-famed,  renowned. 
Familiar,  free,  frank,  affable,  conversant. 
Familiarity,  acquaintance,  intimacy,  courtesy,, 
Family,  household,  house,  lineage,  ancestry. 
Famous  (See  Famed). 
Fanciful,  imaginative,  ideal,  fantastical. 
Fancy,  imagination,  notion,  conceit,  vagary. 
Farewell,  good-bye,  adieu,  leavetaking. 
Farming,  husbandry,  ullage,  agriculture. 
Fashion,  custom,  manner,  mode,  practice,  form* 
Fast,  firm,  solid,  constant,  steadfast,  staunch. 
Fasten,  fix,  tie,  link,  stick,  hold,  affix,  attach. 
Fat,  obese,  corpulent. 
Fatal,  deadly,  mortal,  lethal,  inevitable. 
Fatigue,  weariness,  lassitude,  languor. 
Fault,  blemish,  defect,  imperfection,  vice. 
Favor,  benefit,  kindness,  civilitv,  grace. 
Fear,  fright,  terror,  dismay,  alarm,  dread. 
Fearless,  brave,  bold,  intrepid,  courageous. 
Fearful,  afraid,  timid,  nervous,  timorous. 
Feast,  fete,  banquet,  treat,  entertainment. 
Ferocious,  fierce,  eavage,  ravenous,  voracious. 
Fertile,  fruitful,  prolific,  teeming,  pregnant. 
Fervid,  glowing,  ardent,  impassioned,  fervent. 
Festal,  festive,  convivial,  joyous. 
Festival,  feast,  banquet,  fete,  treat. 
Festivity,  hilarity,  joviality,  jovialness,  gaiety. 
Feud,  fray,  affray,  broil,  quarrel,  dispute. 
Fickle,  unstable,  inconstant,  restless,    fitful. 
Fiction,  romance,  invention,  falsehood. 
Fictitious,  fabricated,  invented,  supposititious. 
Fight,  battle,  action,  engagement,  combat. 
Figure,  image,  allegory,  emblem,  type,  symbol. 
Fill,  satisfy,  content,  store,  replenish,  glut. 
Filthy,  dirty,  dingy,  unclean,  gross. 
Final,  ending,  ultimate,  last,  latest,  conclusive. 
Finale,  close,  end,  termination,  conclusion. 
Fine,  refined,  delicate,  pure,  nice,  handsome. 
Finical,  foppish,  spruce,  dandyish. 
Finite,  limited,  bounded,  terminable. 
Firm,  strong,  robust,  sturdy,  fast,  steadfast. 
First,  primary,  primitive,  pristine,  primeval. 
Fit,  suit,  adapt,  adjust,  equip,  prepare. 
Flavor,  taste,  relish,  savor. 

Flaw,  blemish,  spot,  blur,  speck,  defect,  crack. 
Fleeting,  temporary,  transient,  transitory. 
Fleetness,  quickness,  celerity,  swiftness,  speed 
Flexible,  flexile,  pliant,  Ikhe,  supple. 
Flightiness,  levity,  lightness,  giddiness. 
Flimsy,  light,  weak,  superficial,  shallow. 
Fling,  cast,  throw,  hurl,  toss. 
Flinty,  hard,  indurate,  obdurate. 
Flippancy,  pertness,  sauciness,  lightness. 
Flirt,  jeer,  gibe,  scoff,  taunt. 
Flock,  throng,  crowd,  multitude,  swarm,  sh«. 
Flood,  deluge,  inundate,  overflow,  overwhelm 
Fly,  soar,  mount,  tower. 

Foe,  enemy,  opponent,  adversary,  antagonist 
Foil,  balk,  defeat,  frustrate. 


5  So 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


1?old,  ^crap,  envelop. 

Folks,  persons,  people,  individuals,  fellows. 

Follow,  succeed,  ensue,  imitate,  copy,  pursue. 

Follower,  partisan,  disciple,  retainer,  pursuer. 

Folly,  silliness,  foolishness,  imbecility,  weakness. 

Fond,  enamored,  attached,  affectionate. 

Fondness,  affection,  attachment,  kindness,  love. 

Food,  meal,  repast,  victuals,  meat,  viands,  diet. 

Fool,  idiot,  buffoon,  zany,  clown. 

Foolery,  tomfoolery,  folly,  absurdity,  mummery. 

Foolhardy,  venturesome,  incautious,  hasty. 

Foolish,  simple,  silly,  irrational,  brainless. 

Footstep,  track,  mark. 

Fop,  dandy,  beau,  coxcomb,  puppy,  jackanapes. 

Forego,  quit,  relinquish,  let  go,  waive. 

Foregoing,  antecedent,  anterior,  preceding. 

Forerunner,  herald,  harbinger,  precursor. 

Foresight,  forethought,  forecast,  premeditation. 
Foretell,  predict,  prophesy,  prognosticate. 
Forfeiture,  fine,  penalty. 
Forge,  coin,  invent,  frame,  feign,  fabricate. 
Forgetful,  unmindful,  oblivious. 
Forgive,  pardon,  remit,  absolve,  acquit,  excuse. 
Former,  antecedent,  anterior,  previous,  prior. 
Formidable,  terrible,  dreadful,  fearful. 
Forsake,  abandon,  desert,  renounce. 
Forsaken,  abandoned,  forlorn,  deserted. 
Forthwith,  immediately,  directly,  instantly. 
Fortify,  strengthen,  garrison,  reinforce. 
Fortitude,  endurance,  resolution,  fearlessness. 
Fortunate,  lucky,  happy,  auspicious,  prosperous. 
Fortune,  chance,  fate,  luck,  doom,  destiny. 
Forward,  onward,  progressive,  confident. 
Forward,  farther,  further,  advance,  promote. 
Foster,  cherish,  nurse,  tend,  harbor,  nurture. 
Fragrant,  spicy,  sweet-scented,  balmy. 
Frailty,  weakness,  failing,  foible,  imperfection. 
Frame,  construct,  invent,  coin,  fabricate,  forge. 
Franchise,  right,  exemption,  immunity. 
Frank,  artless,  candid,  sincere,  free,  easy. 
Frantic,  distracted,  mad,  furious,  raving. 
Fraternize,  co-operate,  consort,  associate  with. 
Fraud,  deceit,  deception,  duplicity,  guile,  cheat. 
Fray,  affray,  feud,  quarrel,  broil,  altercation. 
Fresh,  new,  novel,  recent,  modern. 
Fret,  gall,  chafe,  agitate,  irritate,  vex. 
Fretful,  peevish,  petulant,  fractious. 
Friendly,  amicable,  social,  sociable. 
Fright,  alarm,  dismay,  terror,  consternation. 
Frighten,  scare,  affright,  dismay,  appal,  terrify. 
Frightful,  fearful,  dreadful,  dire,  direful. 
Frivolous,  trifling,  trivial,  petty. 
Frolic,  gambol,  play,  game,  sport,  prank,  spree. 
Front,  face,  confront,  encounter. 
Froward,  cross,  untoward,  captious,  fractious. 
Frugal,  provident,  economical,  saving. 
Furious,  violent,  boisterous,  vehement,  dashing. 
Furniture,  goods,  gear,  chattels,  movables. 
Further,  farther,  advance,  forward,  promote. 
Fury,  madness,  frenzy,  rage,  anger. 
Futile,  trifling,  trivial,  frivolous,  useless. 

GAIETY,  merriment,  jollity,  mirth,  hilarity. 
Gain,  profit,  emolument,  advantage,  benefit. 
Gambol,  frisk,  prank,  play,  spree,  caper. 
Game,  play,  pastime,  diversion,  sport. 
Gang,  band,  horde,  company,  troop,  crew. 
Gap,  breach,  chasm,  hollow,  cavity,  cleft- 
Garble,  mutilate,  misquote,  distort,  pervert. 
Garland,  chaplet,  coronal,  wreath. 


Garnish,  embellish,  adorn,  beautify,  deck. 

Gather,  pick,  cull,  assemble,  muster,  infer. 

Gaudy,  show}',  tawdry,  gay,  glittering. 

Gaunt,  emaciated,  scraggy,  skinny,  meagre. 

Gawky,  clumsy,  uncouth,  clownish,  awkward. 

Gay,  cheerful,  merry,  lively,  jolly,  sprightly. 

Generate,  form,  make,  beget,  produce. 

Generation,  formation,  race,  breed,  stock. 

Generous,  beneficent,  noble,  honorable. 

Gesture,  attitude,  action,  posture. 

Get,  obtain,  earn,  gain,  attain,  procure,  achieve. 

Ghastly,  wan,  pallid,  hideous,  grim,  shocking. 

Ghost,  spectre,  spright,  sprite,  apparition. 

Gibe,  scoff,  sneer,  flout,  jeer,  mock,  taunt. 

Giddy,  unsteady,  flighty,  thoughtless. 

Gift,  donation,  benefaction,  grant,  alms. 

Gigantic,  colossal,  huge,  enormous,  vast. 

Gild,  adorn,  beautify,  brighten,  deck. 

Gird,  begird,  engird,  belt,  encircle,  enclose. 

Give,  grant,  bestow,  confer,  yield,  impart. 

Glad,  pleased,  cheerful,  joyful,  gladsome. 

Glare,  flare,  glisten,  glitter,  dazzle,  gleam. 

Gleam,  glimmer,  glance,  glitter,  shine,  flash. 

Glee,  gaiety,  merriment,  mirth,  joviality. 
Glitter,  gleam,  shine,  glisten,  radiate,  glime. 
Gloom,  cloud,  darkness,  dimness,  blackness. 
Gloomy,  lowering,  lurid,  dim,  dusky,  sad. 
Glorify,  magnify,  celebrate,  adore,  exalt. 
Glorious,  famous,  renowned,  celebrated. 
Glory,  honor,  fame,  renown,  splendor. 
Glowing,  hot,  intense,  fervid,  ardent,  fervent. 
Glut,  gorge,  stuff,  cram,  cloy,  satiate,  block  up. 
Go,  depart,  proceed,  move,  budge,  stir. 
Godly,  righteous,  devout,  holy,  pious,  religious. 
Good,  benefit,  weal,  advantage,  profit,  boon. 
Goodly,  comely,  pleasant,  graceful,  desirable. 
Goodness,  value,  worth,  excellence. 
Good,  virtuous,  righteous,  upright,  just,  true. 
Gorge,  glut,  fill,  cram,  stuff,  satiate. 
Grant,  pay,  wages,  salary,  stipend,  gift,  boon. 
Graphic,  forcible,  telling,  picturesque,  vivid. 
Gracp,  catch,  seize,  gripe,  clasp,  grapple. 
Grasping,  greedy,  avaricious,  covetous. 
Grateful,  agreeable,  pleasing,  welcome. 
Gratification,  enjoyment,  pleasure,  delight. 
Grave,  serious,  sedate,  thoughtful,  solemn. 
Grave,  tomb,  sepulchre,  vault. 
Gravity,  weight,  heaviness,  importance. 
Great,  big,  huge,  large,  majestic,  vast,  grand. 
Greediness,  avidity,  eagerness,  voracity. 
Grief,  affliction,  sorrow,  trial,  woe,  tribulation* 
Grisly,  terrible,  hideous,  grim,  ghastly. 
Gross,  coarse,  outrageous,  unseemly,  shameful, 
Ground,  found,  rest,  base,  establish. 
Groundless,  unfounded,  baseless,  ungrounded. 
Group,  assembly,  assemblage,  cluster. 
Grovel,  crawl,  cringe,  fawn,  sneak. 
Grow,  increase,  vegetate,  expand,  advance. 
Growl,  grumble,  snarl,  murmur,  complain. 
Grudge,  malice,  rancor,  spite,  pique,  hatred. 
Gruff,  rough,  rugged,  blunt,  rude,  harsh,  surly, 
Grumble,  growl,  snarl,  complain. 
Guarantee,  warrant,  secure,  verify. 
Guard,  shield,  fence,  security,  defence. 
Guardian,  protector,  conservator,  preserver. 
Guess,  conjecture,  divine,  surmise,  reckon. 
Gush,  stream,  flow,  rush,  spout. 

HABILIMENTS,  clothes,  dress,  garb,  apparel. 
Habit,  manner,  custom,  usage   way. 


SYNONYMS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


581 


Habitation,  dwelling,  residence,  abode. 
Habitual,  usual,  customary,  accustomed 
Hail,  greet,  salute,  welcome,  accost,  call. 
Hale,  hearty,  robust,  sound,  healthy,  strong. 
Hallow,  consecrate,  sanctify,  venerate. 
Halt,  rest,  pause,  falter,  limp,  hop,  hobble. 
Hand,  operative,  workman,  artisan,  influence. 
Handle,  manage,  use,  wield,  fetl. 
Happiness,  felicity,  bliss,  prosperity. 
Happy,  prosperous,  successful,  lucky. 
Harass,  distress,  perplex,  weary,  tire,  worry. 
Harbor,  port,  haven,  asylum,  refuge. 
Hard,  firm,  solid,  flinty,  unfeeling,  harsh. 
Hardened,  hard,  callous,  unfeeling,  insensible. 
Hardihood,  audacity,  imprudence,  effrontery. 
Hardy,  manly,  manful,  masculine,  vigorous. 
Harm,  evil,  ill,  misfortune,  mischief,  mishap. 
Harmonious,  symphonious,  consonous. 
Harmonize,  accord,  tally,  agree,  adapt. 
Harsh,  rough,  severe,  rigorous,  gruff,  rugged. 
Havoc,  destruction,  desolation,  devastation. 
Hazard,  peril,  imperil,  jeopardize,  risk,  dare. 
Haze,  fog,  mist,  rime. 
Head,  chief,  leader,  guide. 
Headstrong,  obstinate,  dogged,  stubborn. 
Heal,  cure,  remedy,  reconcile. 
Healthy,  hearty,  hale,  sound,  strong. 
Heap,  pile,  mass,  accumulate. 
Hear,  hearken,  overhear,  listen. 
Heartbroken,  disconsolate,  inconsolate. 
Hearty,  hale,  healthy,  sound,  strong. 
Heavenly,  celestial,  divine,  seraphic,  angelic. 
Heaviness,  dullness,  gloom,  lethargy,  torpor. 
Help,  aid,  assist,  co-operate,  succor,  relieve. 
Heretofore,  formerly,  aforetime,  long  ago. 
Heroic,  courageous,  brave,  bold,  intrepid. 
Hesitate,  falter,  pause,  demur,  scruple. 
Hew,  cut  down,  fell,  hack,  chop. 
Hidden,  secret,  occult,  mysterious. 
Hide,  conceal,  disguise,  secrete,  cover,  screen. 
Hide,  skin,  rind,  peel,  bark. 
Hideous,  ghastly,  grim,  grisly,  frightful. 
High,  tall,  lofty,  elevated,  proud,  conceited. 
Highly,  greatly,  exceedingly,  immeasurably. 
Hilarity,  mirth,  glee,  jollity,  merriment. 
Hinder,  thwart,  retard,  stop,  prevent,  impede. 
Hint,  suggest,  allude  to,  refer  to,  glance  at. 
Hire,  pay,  allowance,  salary,  wages,  stipend. 
Hit,  strike,  dash,  beat,  thump. 
Vioard,  heap  up,  treasure,  lay  up,  store, 
lonor,  homage,  dignity,  grandeur, 
tfope,  expectation,  expectancy,  trua^. 
Horrible,  fearful,  dreadful,  dire,  direfui. 
Hostile,  opposite,  contrary,  repugnant,  adverse. 
Hostility,  animosity,  enmity,  ill  will,  hatred. 
Hot,  ardent,  fervent,  fiery,  burning,  glowing, 
House,  family,  lineage,  race,  habitation. 
Humiliation,  fall,  abasement,  degradation. 
Humor,  satire,  wit,  jocularity,  temper,  moocr. 
Hurl,  throw,  fling,  cast,  precipitate. 
Hurricane,  storm,  tempest,  blast,  tornado. 
Hurry,  hasten,  speed,  expedite,  precipitate. 
Hurt,  harm,  injury,  damage,  mischief. 
Hurtful,  pernicious,  baneful,  deleterious. 
Hush,  lull,  calm,  still,  quiet. 
Hypocrisy,  deceit,  pretence,  cant. 

IDEA,  imagination,  conception,  notion. 
Ideal,  fanciful,  imaginary,  imaginative. 
Identical,  same,  self-same,  particular. 


Idle,  lazy,  indolent,  inactive,  unemployed. 
Illimitable,  boundless,  limitless,  measureless. 
Illiterate,  unlettered,  unlearned,  untaught. 
Illness,  sickness,  indisposition,  disease. 
Illusion,  fallacy,  deception,  phantasm. 
Illusory,  imaginary,  chimerical,  visionary. 
Illustrate,  explain,  elucidate,  clear. 
Illustrious,  celebrated,  glorious,  noble. 
Image,  likeness,  picture,  representation. 
Imaginary,  ideal,  fanciful,  illusory. 
Imagine,  conceive,  fancy,  apprehend,  think. 
Imbecility,  silliness,  senility,  dotage. 
Imbibe,  absorb,  swallow  up,  take  in,  engulf. 
Immediately,  instantly,  forthwith,  directly. 
Immense,  vast,  enormous,  huge,  prodigious. 
Immerse,  dip,  plunge,  douse,  souse. 
Immunity,  privilege,  prerogative,  exemption. 
Immure,  confine,  shut  up,  imprison. 
Impair,  injure,  diminish,  decrease. 
Impart,  communicate,  reveal,  divulge. 
Impartial,  just,  equitable,  unbiased. 
Impassioned,  passionate,  glowing,  burning. 
Impeach,  accuse,  charge,  arraign,  censure. 
Impede,  hinder,  retard,  obstruct,  prevent. 
Impediment,  obstruction,  hindrance,  obstacle. 
Impel,  animate,  actuate,  induce,  move,  incite. 
Impious,  profane,  irreligious,  godless. 
Implicate,  involve,  entangle,  embarrass. 
Implore,  beg,  solicit,  beseech,  crave. 
Imply,  involve,  comprise,  infold,  import. 
Importance,  signification,  significance,  avail. 
Important,  pressing,  momentous,  material. 
Impose,  put,  place,  set,  fix,  lay. 
Imposing,  impressive,  striking,  majestic. 
Imposition,  delusion,  cheat,  deception,  fraudt 
Impost,  tax,  duty,  custom,  exc'se,  tribute. 
Impregnate,  fill  with,  imbue,  saturate,  steep. 
Impress,  device,  motto,  seal,  imprint. 
Impression,  feeling,  sentiment,  sensation. 
Impressive,  stirring, forcible,  eiciting. 
Imprison,  incarcerate,  shut  up,  immure. 
Imprisonment,  incarceration,  captivity. 
Improve,  amend,  better,  mend,  reform,  rectify. 
Improvement,  progress,  proficiency. 
Improvident,  careless,  incautious,  imprudent. 
Impudence,  assurance,  impertinence. 
Impudent,  saucy,  brazen,  bold,  impertinent. 
Impugn,  gainsay,  oppose,  attack,  assail. 
Impulse,  incentive,  incitement,  motive. 
Impulsive,  rash,  hasty,  forcible,  violent. 
Incentive,  motive,  inducement,  impulse. 
Incessantly,  always,  unceasingly,  continually. 
Incident,  circumstance,  fact,  event,  occurrence 
Incidental,  accidental,  casual,  contingent. 
Incision,  cut,  gash. 

Incite,  instigate,  excite,  provoke,  stimulate. 
Inclemency,  harshness,  rigor,  intensity. 
Inclination,  leaning,  slope,  disposition. 
Incline,  slope,  lean,  slant,  tend,  bend,  turn. 
Inclose,  surround,  shut  in,  fence  in,  cover. 
Include,  comprehend,  comprise,  contain. 
Inconstant,  changeable,  unsteadfast,  unstabtec 
Inconvenience,  incommode,  discommode. 
Increase,  v.  extend,  enlarge,  augment,  dilate. 
Increase,  s.  augmentation,  accession,  addition. 
Inculcate,  impress,  infuse,  instill,  implant. 
Incumbent,  obligatory,  morally  necessitated. 
Incursion,  inroad,  invasion,  irruption. 
Indeed,  truly,  veritably,  certainly. 
Indefinite,  vague,  uncertain,  unsettled,  loose, 


582 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Indicate,  point  out,  show,  mark. 
Indication,  t^rk,  show,  sign,  note,  symptom. 
Indite,  compose,  frame,  couch. 
Indolent,  idle,  lazy,  listless,  inactive. 
Induce,  move,  actuate,  prompt,  impel,  instigate. 
Inducement,  motive,  reason,  cause,  impulse. 
Indulge,  foster,  cherish,  fondle. 
Industrious,  active,  diligent,  assiduous. 
Ineffectual,  vain,  useless,  unavailing,  fruitless. 
Inequality,  disparity,  disproportion. 
Inestimable,  invaluable,  priceless. 
Inevitable,  unavoidable,  not  to  be  avoided. 
Inferior,  secondary,  subaltern,  subordinate. 
Infernal,  diabolical,  fiendish,  devilish,  hellish. 
Infest,  annoy,  plague,  harass,  disturb. 
Infidelity,  unbelief,  distrust,  incredulity. 
Infinite,  boundless,  unbounded,  illimitable. 
Infirm,  weak,  feeble,  enfeebled. 
Inflame,  anger,  irritate,  enrage,  enchafe. 
Inflection,  bend,  crookedness,  curvature. 
Inflict,  lay  on,  impose. 

Influence,  V.  bias,  sway,  prejudice,  prepossess. 
Influence,  s.  credit,  favor,  reputation,  character. 
Inform,  communicate,  tell,  report,  acquaint. 
Inhuman,  cruel,  brutal,  savage,  barbarous. 
Iniquity,  wrong,  injustice,  grievance. 
Injunction,  order,  command,  mandate,  precept. 
Injure,  damage,  hurt,  deteriorate,  wrong. 
Injurious,  hurtful,  baneful,  pernicious. 
Injustice,  wrong,  iniquity,  grievance. 
Inlet,  entrance,  entry,  ingress. 
Innocent,  guiltless,  sinless,  harmless. 
Inoffensive,  harmless,  innocent,  innoxious. 
Insanity,  madness,  mental  aberration,  lunacy. 
Inscribe,  dedicate,  devote,  impress,  engrave. 
Inside,  interior,  within,  inland. 
Insidious,  sly,  treacherous,  crafty,  artful. 
Insight,  discernment,  inspection,  introspection. 
Insinuate,  hint,  intimate,  suggest,  infuse. 
Insipid,  dull,  flat,  mawkish,  tasteless,  vapid. 
Insist,  persist,  persevere,  urge. 
Insnare,  entrap,  decoy,  allure,  net,  enmesh. 
Insolent,  rude,  saucy,  pert,  impertinent. 
Inspect,  examine,  investigate,  overhaul. 
Inspire,  animate,  exhilarate,  enliven,  cheer. 
Instability,  mutability,  fickleness,  mutableness. 
Install,  induct,  inaugurate,  invest. 
Instrument,  tool,  implement,  utensil,  medium. 
Instrumental,  conducive,  assistant,  helping. 
Insufficiency,  inadequacy,  incompetency. 
Insult,  affront,  outrage,  indignity,  blasphemy. 
Insulting,  insolent,  rude,  saucy,  impertinent. 
Insurrection,  rebellion,  mutiny,  revolt,  sedition. 
Integrity,  uprightness,  honesty,  probity. 
Intellect,  understanding,  sense,  brains,  mind. 
Intellectual,  mental,  ideal,  metaphysical. 
Intend,  design,  contemplate,  mean,  purpose. 
Intense,  ardent,  earnest,  glowing,  fervid, 
intent,  design,  purpose,  intention,  drift,  view. 
Intentional,  designed,  intended,  contemplated. 
Inter,  bury,  entomb,  inhume. 
Intercede,  interpose,  interfere,  mediate. 
Intercourse,  commerce,  connection,  intimacy. 
Interdict,  forbid,  prohibit,  inhibit,  proscribe. 
Interfere,  meddle,  intermeddle,  interpose. 
Interior,  inward,  inner,  inside,  internal. 
Intermediate,  intervening,  intervenient. 
Intervention,  agency,  interposition,  meditation. 
Intimate,  hint,  suggest,  insinuate,  express- 
Intimidate,  dishearten,  alarm,  frighten- 


Intolerable,  insufferable,  unbearable. 
Intoxicated,  drunk,  tipsy,  inebriated,  fuddled. 
Intrepid,  bold,  brave,  daring,  fearless. 
Intricacy,  difficulty,  complexity,  complication.. 
Intrigue,  plot,  conspiracy,  combination. 
Intrinsic,  real,  true,  genuine,  sterling,  native. 
Introduce,  present,  usher,  bring  in,  begin. 
Introduction,  preface,  prelude,  exordium. 
Invade,  attack,  assail,  infringe,  encroach. 
Invalid,  weak,  worthless,  null,  feeble,  infirm. 
Invalidate,  quash,  cancel,  overthrow,  vacate. 
Invasion,  incursion,  irruption,  inroad, 
Invective,  abuse,  reproach,  railing,  censure. 
Invent,  devise,  contrive,  frame,  fabricate. 
Invert,  upset,  overturn,  overthrow,  subvert. 
Invest,  surround,  besiege,  endue,  clothe. 
Investigation,  examination,  search,  inquiry. 
Inveterate,  confirmed,  chronic,  malignant. 
Invidious,  envious,  hateful,  odious,  malignant. 
Invigorate,  brace,  harden,  nerve,  strengthen. 
Invincible,  unconquerable,  impregnable. 
Invisible,  unseen,  imperceptible,  impalpable. 
Irregular,  eccentric,  anomalous,  inordinate. 
Irreligious,  profane,  godless,  impious. 
Irreproachable,  blameless,  spotless. 
Irresistible,  resistless,  opposeless,  irrepressible. 
Irresolute,  wavering,  undetermined,  undecided. 
Irrespective,  independent  of. 
Irritable,  excitable,  irascible,  susceptible. 
Irritate,  aggravate,  worry,  provoke,  embitter. 
Issue,  v.  emerge,  rise,  proceed,  flow,  spring. 
Issue,  s.  end,  conclusion,  upshot,  effect. 

JEALOUSY,  suspicion,  envy. 

Jeer,  sneer,  scoff,  mock. 

Jeopardize,  imperil,  hazard,  endanger. 

Jeopardy,  risk,  peril,  hazard,  danger,  chance. 

Jilt,  coquette,  flirt. 

Jocose,  jocular,  jolly,  facetious,  witty,  pleasanto 

Jocund,  light-hearted,  lively,  sprightly. 

Join,  accompany,  go  with,  add,  unite,  append. 

Jollification,  conviviality,  revelry,  merriment, 

Jolly,  stout,  lusty,  corpuisnt,  obese,  merry. 

Journey,  travel,  tour,  trip,  excursion,  voyage. 

Joviality,  hilarity,  jollity,  mirth,  merriment. 

Joy,  delight,  gladness,  charm,  pleasure. 

Justify,  excuse,  clear,  exonerate,  defend. 

Justness,  accuracy,  correctness. 

Jut,  project,  protrude,  bulge. 

Juvenile,  young,  youthful,  boyish,  infantile. 

KEEN,  sharp,  acute,  penetrating,  cutting. 
Keep,  retain,  hold,  detain,  preserve,  maintain. 
Key,  guide,  explanation,  translation,  solution. 
Kill,  murder,  assassinate,  slay,  massacre. 
Kind,  thoughtful,  affable,  gentle,  meek,  tender. 
Kind,  species,  sort  class,  genus,  nature. 
Kindle,  ignite,  enkindle,  awaken,  arouse. 
Kindred,  affinity,  relative,  kinsfolk,  related. 
Knowledge,  learning,  scholarship,  acquirement, 

LABORIOUS,  hard-working,  industrious. 

L,abor,  work,  task,  toil,  exertion. 

Labored,  elaborate,  hard-wrought,  studied. 

Laborer,  workman,  operative,  hand. 

Lack,  want,  need,  require. 

Laconic,  short,  brief,  concise,  curt. 

Lag,  tarry,  linger,  loiter,  saunter. 

Lame,  limp,  halt,  hobble,  hop. 

Lament,  grieve,  mourn,  rejjrct,  bewail,  deplore. 


SYNONYMS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


583 


language,  speech,  tongue,  dialect. 

Languid,  weak,  faint,  drooping,  pining. 

Lank,  lean,  thin,  skinny,  meagre,  scraggy. 

I^apse,  elapse,  glide,  pass,  roll. 

Large,  big,  great,  huge,  vast,  extensive,  wide. 

Lawful,  legal,  legitimate,  rightful. 

Lax,  loose,  vague,  dissolute,  licentious. 

Lazy,  idle,  indolent,  slothful,  sluggish. 

Lead,  conduct,  guide,  direct,  induce,  persuade. 

Leader,  chief,  director,  head,  guide. 

Leading,  principal,  chief,  governing,  ruling. 

League,  alliance,  confederacy,  combination. 

Lean,  v.  thin,  scraggy,  lank,  skinny. 

Lean,  s.  incline,  tend,  bend,  slope. 

Leap,  jump,  bound,  spring. 

Learning,  knowledge,  scholarship. 

Leave,  s.  liberty,  license,  permission. 

Leave,  v .  quit,  relinquish,  renounce,  give  up. 

Leavings,  scraps,  refuse,  remains,  remnants. 

Lengthen,  extend,  elongate,  protract,  prolong. 

Lessen,  abate,  diminish,  decrease,  lower. 

Let,  permit,  allow,  surfer. 

Letter,  epistle,  note,  communication. 

Level,  even,  plain,  smooth,  flat. 

Levity,  giddiness,  lightness,  flightiness. 

Liable,  exposed  to,  subject  to. 

Libel,  lampoon,  pasquinade. 

Liberal,  generous,  bountiful,  bounteous. 

Liberate,  set  free,  deliver,  discharge. 

Liberty,  leave,  license,  permission,  freedom. 

Licentious,  loose,  lax,  dissolute,  rakish. 

Lie,  untruth,  falsehood,  falsity,  fabrication. 

Life,  animation,  vivacity,  buoyancy,  spirits. 

Lifeless,  dead,  defunct,  inanimate,  extinct. 

Lift,  hoist,  raise,  elevate,  erect,  exalt. 

Limpid,  clear,  transparent. 

Lineage,  ancestry,  family,  house,  generation. 

Linger,  tarry,  loiter,  wait,  lag,  saunter. 

Link,  tie,  bind,  join,  chain. 

Liquid,  liquor,  fluid,  juice. 

Liquidate,  clear  off,  extinguish,  pay  off,  lessen. 

List,  roll,  roster,  catalogue,  register,  inventory. 

Listen,  list,  hearken,  heed,  attend  to. 

Listless,  indifferent,  indolent,  careless. 

Literal,  actual,  real,  positive,  true. 

Literature,  books,  letters,  learning,  scholarship. 

Little,  small,  diminutive,  dwarf. 

Live,  exist,  subsist. 

Livelihood,  living,  support,  sustenance. 

Loiter,  wait,  linger,  tarry,  saunter. 

Lone,  forlorn,  lonesome,  solitary,  desolate. 

Look,  s.  manner,  appearance,  aspect,  feature. 

Look,  v.  see,  witness,  view,  eye,  inspect. 

Loose,  vague,  indefinite,  lax,  slack,  dissolute. 

Loquacity,  talkativeness,  volubility,  glibness. 

Loss,  damage ,  detriment. 

Lot,  destiny,  fate,  future,  doom. 

Loud,  noisy,  clamorous,  vociferous,  blustering. 

Love,  endearment,  affection,  attachment. 

Lovely,  charming,  amiable,  delightful. 

Lover,  suitor,  wooer,  sweetheart. 

Low,  humble,  lowly,  base,  mean,  filthy,  foul. 

Lower,  reduce,  humble,  humiliajte,  degrade. 

Lowering,  gloomy,  lurid,  murky,  dull. 

Loyalty,  allegiance,  fealty. 

Luck,  chance,  fortune,  accident. 

Luscious,  honeyed,  sweet,  mellifluous. 

Lustful,  lecherous,  lascivious. 

Lustre,  splendor,  brightness,  brilliancy. 

Lusty,  stout,  strong,  able-bodied,  stalwart. 


Luxuriant,  overflowing,  exuberant,  superfluous. 
Luxury,  plenty,  profuseness,  voluptuousness. 
Lying,  false,  untrue,  untruth. 

MACHINATION,  stratagem,  cheat,  imposture. 
Mad,  wild,  frantic,  distracted,  frantic,  rabid. 
Madden,  irritate,  enrage,  exasperate. 
Madness,  mental  aberration,  insanity,  lunacy. 
Maim,  mutilate,  mangle,  cripple,  lame. 
Main,  chief,  principal,  leading,  first. 
Maintain,  assert,  vindicate,  hold,  support, 
Maintenance,  living,  livelihood,  subsistence. 
Majestic,  dignified,  noble,  stately,  pompous. 
Majesty,  grandeur,  dignity,  honor. 
Make,  create,  form,  produce,  mould,  shape. 
Malady,  ailment,  disease,  distemper,  disorder. 
Malediction,  curse,  imprecation,  denunciation. 
Malefactor,  criminal,  culprit,  felon,  convict. 
Malice,  spite,  rancor,  ill-feeling,  grudge,  pique. 
Malicious,  virulent,  malignant,  wicked. 
Manacle,  shackle,  fetter,  chain. 
Manage,  contrive,  concert,  direct. 
Management,  direction,  superintendence,  care. 
Mangle,  tear,  lacerate,  mutilate,  cripple,  maim. 
Manner,  habit,  custom,  way,  air,  look. 
Manners,  morals,  habits,  behavior,  carriage. 
Manure,  dung,  ordure,  soil. 
Many,  numerous,  several,   sundry,  divers. 
Mar,  spoil,  ruin,  disfigure. 
Margin,  edge,  rim,  border,  brink,  verge. 
Marine,  maritime,  nautica!,  naval. 
Marked,  observable,  noticeable,  remarkable. 
Marriage,  wedding,  nuptials,  matrimony. 
Marsh,  fen,  bog,  morass,  quagmire,  swamp. 
Martial,  military,  warlike,  soldierlike. 
Marvel,  wonder,  miracle,  prodigy. 
Marvelous,  wondrous,  wonderful,  amazing. 
Mask,  visor,  cloak,  veil,  blind. 
Massacre,  carnage,  slaughter,  butchery. 
Massive,  massy,  bulky,  heavy,  weighty. 
Master,  possessor,  proprietor,  head,  owner. 
Mastery,  dominion,  rule,  sway,  ascendency. 
Material,  corporeal,  bodily,  physical,  temporal, 
Matrimony,  marriage,  wedlock,  wedding. 
Mature,  ripe,  ready,  mellow,  perfect,  fit, 
Mawkish,  insipid,  flat,  spiritless,  vapid. 
Maxim,  adage,  apothegm,  proverb,  saying. 
Meagre,  poor,  lank,  emaciated,  barren,  dry. 
Meaning,  signification,  import,  acceptation. 
Means,  way,  manner,  method,  mode. 
Mechanic,  artisan,  artificer,  operative. 
Mediate,  intercede,  interpose. 
Meditate,  think,  reflect,  muse. 
Medium,  mediocrity,  organ,  channel. 
Meek,  unassuming,  mild,  gentle. 
Meet,  apt,  fit,  suitable,  expedient,  proper. 
Meeting,  assembly,  convocation,  congregation. 
Mellow,  ripe,  mature,  soft. 
Melodious,  tuneful,  musical,  silver,  dulcet. 
Melt,  liquefy,  fuse,  dissolve,  moisten. 
Memoir,  narrative,  chronicle,  legend,  life. 
Memorial,  monument,  memento. 
Memory,  remembrance,  recollection. 
Menace,  threat,  threatening,  commination. 
Menial,  servant,  domestic,  drudge. 
Merchandise,  goods,  wares,  commerce,  traffic. 
Merchant,  trader,  tradesman,  dealer. 
Mercy,  lenity,  mildness,  clemency,  compassiop 
Merely,  barely,  only,  scarcely,  just. 
Merit,  worth,  desert. 


584 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Merited,  deserved,  condign,  suitable,  adequate. 
Meritorious,  worthy,  deserving. 
Merriment,  mirth,  joviality,  jollity,  hilarity. 
Messenger,  carrier,  harbinger,  forerunner. 
Metaphorical,  figurative,  allegorical. 
Mien,  air,  look,  manner,  aspect,  appearance. 
Migratory,  roving,  strolling,  wandering. 
Mild,  soft,  meek,  gentle,  kind. 
Mimic,  imitate,  ape,  mock. 
Mind,  v .  heed,  advert  to,  regard. 
Mind,  s.  sentiment,  opinion,  idea,  notion. 
Mindful,  observant,  attentive,  heedful. 
Mingle,  mix,  blend,  compound,  amalgamate. 
Minister,  administer,  contribute,  supply. 
Ministry,  cabinet,  administration,  government. 
Minute,  circumstantial,  particular. 
Miscellaneous,  promiscuous,  indiscriminate. 
Mischief,  injury,  harm,  damage,  hurt,  evil. 
Misconception,  misapprehension. 
Miscreant,  caitiff,  villain,  ruffian. 
Miserable,  unhappy,  wretched,  distressed. 
Miserly,  stingy,  niggardly,  avaricious. 
Misfortune,  calamity,  disaster,  mishap. 
Misguide,  mislead,  dazzle,  beguile,  deceive. 
Mislead  (see  Misguide). 
Misspend,  waste,  dissipate,  squander. 
Misrule,  anarchy,  confusion. 
Miss,  omit,  lose,  fail,  miscarry. 
Mission,  commission,  legation,  embassy. 
Mistake,  err,  fail,  misconceive. 
Misunderstanding,  misapprehend. 
Misuse,  abuse,  perversion,  maltreatment. 
Mitigate,  alleviate,  relieve,  abate,  diminish. 
Mix,  mingle,  blend,  intermix,  amalgamate. 
Mixture,  medley,  variety,  hotch-potch. 
Modern,  novel,  new,  recent. 
Modest,  chaste,  virtuous,  bashful,  reserved. 
Moist,  wet,  damp,  dank,  humid. 
Moment,  consequence,  weight,  importance. 
Momentous,  important,  significant,  weighty. 
Monotonous,  unvaried,  dull,  tiresome. 
Monster,  ruffian,  villain,  brute,  prodigy. 
Monstrous,  shocking,  dreadful,  horrible. 
Mood,  humor,  disposition,  vein,  temper. 
Moral,  regular,  strict,  virtuous. 
Morals,  manners,  behavior,  habits,  morality. 
Morass,  bog,  quagmire,  slough,  marsh,  fen. 
Morbid,  sick,  ailing,  sickly,  diseased. 
Moreover,  besides,  furthermore. 
Morning,  daybreak,  morn,  dawn,  sunrise. 
Morose,  gloomy,  sullen,  surly,  fretful,  crabbed. 
Mortal,  deadly,  fatal,  destructive. 
Mortality,  humankind,  human  race,  death. 
Mortify,  vex,  chagrin,  grieve,  hurt,  afflict. 
Motherly,  maternal,  tender. 
Motion,  proposition,  proposal,  movement. 
Motionless,  still,  stationary,  torpid,  stagnant. 
Motley,  heterogeneous,  diversified. 
Mottled,  dappled,  dotted,  spotted,  flecked. 
Mould,  cast,  form,  shape,  fashion,  mildew, 
i  Mount,  arise,  rise,  ascend,  soar,  tower,  climb. 
Mournful,  sad,  sorrowful,  lugubrious,  grievous. 
Moving,  affecting,  touching,  pathetic,  melting. 
Much,  ample,  plenteous,  copious. 
Muffle,  deaden,  disguise,  conceal,  cover. 
Murky,  dark,  dusky,  dim,  cloudy,  misty. 
Muse,  meditate,  contemplate,  think,  reflect. 
Music,  harmony,  melody,  symphony. 
Musical,  tuneful,  melodious,  harmonious. 
Muster,  collect,  rally,  assemble,  congregate. 


Musty,  stale,  sour,  fetid. 

Mute,  dumb,  silent,  speechless. 

Mutilate,  maim,  cripple,  disable,  disfigure. 

Mutinous,  insurgent,  seditious,  tumultuous. 

Mystify,  confuse,  perplex,  puzzle. 

Myth,  fable,  legend,  fiction,  parable. 

NATION,  people,  community,  realm,  state. 
Native,  real,  genuine,  indigenous,  vernacular. 
Natural,  original,  regular,  normal,  bastard. 
Naturally,  consequently,  necessarily. 
Nausea,  qualm,  sea-sickness,  disgust,  loathing. 
Nautical,  maritime,  sea-faring,  naval,  marine. 
Neat,  nice,  spruce,  trim,  precise,  pure. 
Necessitate,  compel,  force,  oblige. 
Need,  v.  necessity,  distress,  poverty,  indigence 
Need,  s.  require,  want. 

Needful,  needy,  requisite,  essential,  necessary. 
Neglect,  disregard,  slight,  omit,  overlook. 
Nerve,  fibre,  sin^w,  tendon,  force,  pluck. 
Nervous,  timid,  timorous,  shaky. 
Neutralize,  counterbalance,  counteract. 
Nevertheless,  however,  yet  notwithstanding. 
New,  fresh,  recent,  novel. 
News,  tidings,  intelligence,  information. 
Nice,  exact,  accurate,  good,  particular. 
Niggard,  miser,  skinflint,  screw. 
Niggardly,  miserly,  griping,  stingy,  penurious. 
Nigh,  near,  close,  adjacent,  approximate. 
Nobility,  aristocracy,  greatness,  grandeur. 
Nocturnal,  nightly,  gloomy,  dark. 
Noise,  cry,  outcry,  clamor,  row,  din,  uproar. 
Nominate,  name,  entitle. 

Nonsensical,  irrational,  absurd,  preposterous. 
Notice,  s.  advice,  notification,  intelligence. 
Notice,  v.  mark,  note,  observe,  attend  to. 
Noticeable,  striking,  observable,  remarkable. 
Notorious,  noted,  well-known,  renowned. 
Nourish,  nurture,  cherish,  foster,  supply. 
Nourishment,  food,  diet,  sustenance,  nutrition. 
Noxious,  hurtful,  deadly,  poisonous. 
Nugatory,  ineffectual,  futile,  useless,  null. 
Nullify,  annul,  vacate,  invalidate,  quash. 
Numerous,  many,  sundry,  various,  several. 
Nuptials,  marriage,  wedding. 
Nurture,  nurse,  cherish,  nourish,  foster. 
Nutrition,  food,  diet,  nutriment,  nourishment. 

OBEDIENT,  compliant,  submissive,  dutiful. 
Obese,  corpulent,  fat,  adipose,  fleshy. 
Object,  s.  aim,  end,  purpose,  design,  mark,  butt. 
Object,  v.  oppose,  except  to,  contravene. 
Obligation,  duty,  favor,  engagement,  contract. 
Obliging,  accommodating,  civil,  courteous. 
Obliterate,  erase,  blot  out,  expunge,  efface. 
Obnoxious,  hateful,  offensive,  liable,  exposed. 
Obscene,  lewd,  foul,  filthy,  indecent,  indelicate. 
Obscure,  shade,  dim,  cloud,  darken. 
Observable,  noticeable,  remarkable,  striking. 
Observant,  watchful,  mindful,  attentive. 
Observation,  remark,  comment,  notice. 
Obtrude,  trespass,  trench,  intrude,  encroach. 
Obtuse,  stolid,  heavy-headed,  dull,  stupid. 
Obviate,  prevent,  preclude,  hinder. 
Occasion,  s.  necessity,  need,  event,  opening. 
Occasion,  v.  cause,  make,  create,  induce. 
Occasional,  accidental,  casual,  incidental. 
Occult,  secret,  hidden,  unknown,  invisible. 
Occupy,  hold,  possess,  fill,  employ. 
Occur,  happen,  take  place,  appear,  offer. 


SYNONYMS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


585 


Occurrence,  event,  affair,  incident,  adventure. 
Odor,  smell,  scent,  perfume,  fragrance, 
Offal,  garbage,  rubbish,  refuse. 
Offend,  displease,  vex,  nettle,  irritate,  shock. 
Offender,  culprit,  defaulter,  delinquent. 
Officer,  functionary,  official,  commandant. 
Officious,  obtrusive,  busy,  interfering. 
Offspring,  issue,  progeny,  descendants. 
Often,  frequently,  recurrently,  repeatedly. 
Omen,  presage,  prognostic,  foreboding. 
jOmission,  oversight,  failure,  neglect,  default. 
(Omit,  leave  out,  miss,  overlook. 
One,  common,  united,  single,  individual. 
Only,  singly,  alone,  solely,  merely,  barely- 
Onset,  onslaught,  attack,  charge,  encounter. 
Onward,  forward,  ahead,  progressive. 
Ooze,  exude,  drop,  percolate,  filter. 
Opaque,  untransparent,  dull,  dark,  cloudy. 
Operate,  act,  do,  make,  work,  labor. 
Operative,  stringent,  effective,  serviceable. 
Opportune,  seasonable,  timely,  fit,  well-timed. 
Opportunity,  occasion,  chance,  fit,  opening. 
Oppose,  c»mbat,  bar,  hinder,  resist. 
Opposing,  conflicting,  jarring,  neutralizing. 
Oppress,  overburden,  overbear,  overtask. 
Oppression,  cruelty,  hardship,  tyranny. 
Opprobrium,  disgrace,  odium,  infamy. 
Option,  choice,  preference,  election. 
Opulent,  wealthy,  rich,  affluent,  moneyed. 
Oral,  verbal,  spoken,  parole. 
Oration,  address,  speech,  harangue. 
Oratory,  rhetoric,  eloquence. 
Orb,  circle,  globe,  ball,  sphere. 
Order,  appoint,  prescribe,  enjoin /command. 
Ordinance,  decree,  law,  statute,  edict. 
Organic,  fundamental,  radical,  rooted. 
Organize,  dispose,  arrange,  regulate,  adjust. 
Organization,  structure,  form,  instrumentality. 
Oririce,  aperture,  opening. 
Original,  first,  primary,  pristine,  primeval. 
Originate,  create,  form,  spring,  ooze,  issue. 
Ostensible,  manifest,  visible,  outward. 
Ostentation,  display,  pomp,  show,  parade. 
Ostentatious,  showy,  vain-glorious,  vain. 
Outcast,  reprobate,  castaway,  vagrant. 
Outdo,  exceed,  excel,  surpass,  outvie. 
Outer,  outward,  outside,  external,  exterior. 
Outlandish,  strange,  foreign,  alien,  barbarous. 
Outline,  sketch,  plan,  draft,  contour. 
Outrage,  affront,  abuse,  injury,  insult,  offence. 
Outset,  commencement,  start,  beginning. 
Outskirts,  suburbs,  environs,  precincts. 
Outward,  outer,  external,  exterior,  extrinsic. 
Over,  above,  upon,  across,  more  than. 
Overawe,  daunt,  intimidate,  affright,  cow. 
Overcharge,  oppress,  overload,  surcharge. 
Overflow,  inundate,  submerge,  deluge,  flood. 
Overflowing,  exuberant,  copious,  diffuse. 
Overplus,  excess,  surplus,  surplusage. 
Overruling,  governing,  controlling. 
Overture,  proposal,  offer,  invitation. 
Overturn,  overset,  overthrow,  upset,  subvert. 
Own,  acknowledge,  admit,  confess,  recognize. 
Owner,  proprietor,  possessor,  master,  holder.   . 

PACE,  step,  tread,  walk,  tramp,  march. 
Pacific,  peaceful,  peaceable,  mild,  gentle. 
Pacify,  appease,  calm,  quiet,  still. 
Pagan,  gentile,  heathen,  idolater. 
Pageaotry,  pomp,  splendor,  show. 


Pain,  anguish,  agony,  distress,  suffering. 
Painful,  afflicting,  grievous,  torturing. 
Painstaking,  attentive,  laborious,  diligent. 
Paint,  color,  represent,  portray,  delineate. 
Pair,  two,  couple,  brace. 
Palate,  taste,  relish. 

Pals,  pallid,  wan,  whitish,  shallow,  faint. 
Palliate,  extenuate,  varnish,  cover,  allay. 
Palpable,  clear,  distinct,  plain,  obvious. 
Palpitate,  flutter,  pant,  throb,  pulsate. 
Panegyric,  eulogy,  encomium,  eulogium. 
Pang,  throe,  twinge,  pgony,  anguish,  pain. 
Pant,  palpitate,  gasp,  throb,  long,  yearn. 
Parable,  fable,  allegory,  simile. 
Parade,  show,  ostentation,  vain-glory. 
Parallel,  equal,  parity,  analogy,  like,  similar. 
Paramount,  supreme,  principal,  chief. 
Parasite,  flatterer,  sycophant,  toady. 
Parity,  analogy,  equality,  parallel. 
Parsimonious,  stingy,  niggardly,  miserly. 
Parson,  clergyman,  incumbent,  curate. 
Partake,  participate,  nhare. 
Partial,  biased,  prejudiced,  limited. 
Participate,  share,  partake,  join  in. 
Particle,  jot,  tittle,  grain,  atom. 
Particular,  singular,  exact,  nice,  punctual. 
Particularly,  primarily,  especially,  chiefly. 
Parting,  separation,  leaving,  distribution. 
Partisan,  supporter,  follower,  adherent. 
Partition,  parcel,  divide,  apportion,  distribute. 
Passable,  tolerable,  pretty  good,  fair. 
Pass,  elapse,  glide,  slip,  sJide. 
Pastime,  sport,  play,  recreation,  amusement. 
Patch,  part,  piece,  plot,  tract. 
Paternal,  fatherly,  careful,  tender,  hereditary. 
Path,  pathway,  footroad,  road,  way,  route. 
Pathetic,  moving,  touching,  affecting,  melting. 
Patience,  resignation,  endurance,  fortitude. 
Patient,  passive,  submissive,  resigned. 
Patronize,  befriend,  favor,  countenance. 
Paucity,  lack,  fewness,  deficiency. 
Pause,  demur,  hesitate,  deliberate,  interval. 
Pay,  liquidate,  lessen,  discharge,  extinguish. 
Peace,  quiet,  calm,  tranquility,  repose,  amity. 
Peaceable,  mild,  gentle,  friendly. 
Peasant,  countryman,  rustic,  bumpkin. 
Peccant,  erring,  guilty,  criminal,  malignant. 
Peculator,  defaulter,  delinquent,  offender. 
Pedigree,  descent,  genealogy,  lineage. 
Peel,  skin,  rind,  husk. 

Pellucid,  translucent,  lucid,  limpid,  transp^enfc- 
Penal,  punitive,  retributive. 
Penalty,  fine,  amercement,  mulct,  forfeiture* 
Pendant,  protruding,  hanging,  pendulous. 
Pending,  depending,  coming,  undecided. 
Penetrate,  pierce,  perforate,  bore,  fathom. 
Penitence,  contrition,  repentance,  remorse. 
Percolate,  filtrate,  strain,  filter,  ooze. 
Perennial,  imperishable,  undying,  immortal. 
Perfect,  complete,  whole,  entire,  finished. 
Perfidious,  faithless,  false-hearted,  treacherous 
Perforate,  bore,  penetrate,  pierce,  drill. 
Performer,  actor,  player,  comedian,  tragedian. 
Perfume,  odor,  scent,  fragrance,  arcma,  smelL 
Perhaps,  perchance,  possibly,  perad  venture. 
Perilous,  dangerous,  hazardous. 
Period,  time,  age,  date,  era,  cycle,  epoch,  end* 
Periodically,  regularly,  steadily. 
Perish,  decay,  die,  expire,  dissolve,  disclose. 
Permission,  permit,  leave,  liberty,  license. 


586 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Persecute,  oppress,  harass,  afflict. 
Persevere,  continue,  persist,  pursue,  proceed. 
Persons,  men,  people,  folks,  individuals. 
Persuade,  exhort,  urge,  allure,  incite,  influence. 
Pert,  forward,  flippant,  saucy,  impertinent. 
Pertain,  belong,  appertain,  relate,  concern. 
Pertinacious,  obstinate,  inflexible,  stubborn, 
^ertinent,  fit,  relevant,  proper,  appropriate. 
Perturb,  agitate,  unsettle,  vex. 
Pervade,  diffuse,  spread,  permeate,  overspread. 
Pervert,  corrupt,  distort,  turn,  twist. 
Pest,  bane,  plague,  cankerworn,  ruin. 
Petition,  prayer,  supplication,  entreaty. 
Petty,  trifling,  trivial,  frivolous,  insignificant 
Phantom,  apparition,  ..pectre,  ghost,  sprite. 
Philosophy,  science,  knowledge. 
Phlegmatic,  frigid,  cold,  heavy,  -unfeeling. 
Physical,  material,  corporeal,  tangible. 
Pick,  pluck,  choose,  cull,  select,  gather. 
Pictorial,  picturesque,  graphic,  imaginative. 
Piece,  part,  portion,  section,  morsel,  firearm. 
Piercing,  thrilling,  ringing,  clangous. 
Piety,  religion,  sanctify,  holiness,  devotion. 
Pile,  heap,  accumulate,  hoard,  amass,  collect. 
Pile,  building,  edifice,  structure,  thread. 
Pillage,  loot,  rapine,  spoil,  plunder,  booty. 
Pillar,  column,  shaft,  post,  support. 
Pinch,  press,  squeeze,  gripe,  nip. 
Pine,  flag,  droop,  languish,  sink,  fade. 
Pious,  holy,  godly,  saintly,  devout,  religious. 
Pique,  spite,  grudge,  umbrage,  resentment.     / 
Pic,  hollow,  trench,  gulf,  abyss. 
Pitch,  fling,  cast,  launch,  throw. 
Pith,  gist,  kernel,  cream,  strength,  marrow. 
Pithy,  terse,  concise,  forcible,  strong. 
Pitiful,  mean,  paltry,  sordid,  contemptible. 
Pity,  s.  compassion,  sympathy,  condolence. 
Place,  put,  set,  lay,  dispose,  order,  organize. 
Plaintive,  elegiac,  dirgelike,  doleful,  sad. 
Plaudit,  acclamation,  applause,  exultation. 
Plausible,  colorable,  specious,  ostensible. 
Plea,  apology,  defence,  vindication,  entreaty. 
Plead,  defend,  vindicate,  exonerate,  justify. 
Please,  gratify,  satisfy,  content,  delight. 
Plebeian,  ignoble,  vulgar,  low-born. 
Pledge,  5.  pawn,  earnest,  security,  surety. 
Plenty,  enough,  sufficiency,  abundance. 
Pliable,  pliant,  flexible,  lithe,  supple,  yielding. 
Plight,  pledge,  hypothecate,  vow. 
Plot,  concoct,  hatch,  frame,  contrive. 
Pluck,  courage,  mettle,  spirit,  nerve. 
Plump,  fleshy,  round,  fat,  full,  chubby. 
Plunder,  pillage,  booty,  loot,  spoil,  robbery. 
Plunge,  dive,  dip,  douse,  sink. 
Ply,  practice,  exercise,  urge. 
Point,  v.  aim,  level,  direct,  sharpen,  show. 
Point,  a.  peaked,  sharp,  marked,  keen,  severe. 
Poison,  bane,  pest,  venom,  virus,  infection. 
Policy,  plan,  device,  stratagem,  management. 
Polite,  refined,  genteel,  civil,  accomplished. 
Politic,  political,  civil,  judicious,  prudential. 
Ponderous,  heavy,  weighty,  massive,  bulky. 
Poor,  indigent,  needy,  penniless,  necessitous. 
Populace,  people,  commonalty,  vulgar,  mob. 
Popular,  common,  general,  prevailing. 
Port,  harbor,  haven,  entrance,  portal. 
Portal,  gate,  gateway,  entrance. 
Portend,  foreshow,  augur,  presage,  forebode. 
Portly,  majestic,  stately,  grand,  dignified, 
possess,  have,  own,  hold,  occupy. 


Possible,  practicable,  likely,  feasible. 

Possibly,  perhaps,  peradventure,  perchance. 

Post,  s.  place,  situation,  position,  office,  berth. 

Practical,  serviceable,  useful,  experienced. 

Practically,  actually,  really,  in  fact. 

Practice,  s.  custom,  habit,  manner,  use,  usage. 

Practice,  v.  exercise,  transact,  apply. 

Praise,  s.  approval,  eulogy,  commendation. 

Prank,  frolic,  gambol,  freak,  trick,  escapade. 

Prate,  tattle,  babble,  chat,  chatter,  prattle. 

Pray,  beg,  entreat,  invoke,  supplicate,  implore. 

Preamble,  preface,  introduction,  precede. 

Precaution,  care,  forethought. 

Precede,  lead,  go  before,  herald. 

Precedence,  priority,  pre-eminence,  preference. 

Preceptor,  teacher,  tutor,  instructor. 

Precincts,  borders,  limits,  bounds,  confines. 

Precious,  valuable,  costly,  dear,  estimable. 

Precipitate,  v.  hurry,  hasten,  cast  down. 

Precipitate,  a.  hasty,  hurried,  rash,  premature. 
Precipitous,  headlong,  rash,  steep,  beetling. 
Precision,  exactness,  accuracy. 
Preclude,  prevent,  obviate,  hinder,  debar. 
Precursory,  preceding,  anterior,  prior. 
Predatory,  marauding,  pillaging,  rapacious. 
Predicament,  situation,  condition,  state,  plighfc 
Predict,  foretell,  prognosticate,  prophesy. 
Predilection,  preference,  partiality,  bias. 
Preface,  prelude,  introduction,  preamble. 
Prefer,  choose,  fancy,  select,  raise,  exalt. 
Preference,  choice,  priority ,  precedence. 
Pregnant,  prolific,  teeming,  replete,  enciente. 
Prelude,  introduction,  preface,  prologue. 
Premature,  precipitate,  rash,  hasty,  untimely. 
Premeditation,  forethought,  forecast. 
Premium,  recompense,  reward,  bonus. 
Preposterous,  irrational,  foolish,  absurd. 
Prerogative,  privilege,  immunity,  right. 
Present,  .s.  gift,  donation,  benefaction. 
Present,  v.  offer,  exhibit,  give,  introduce. 
Presentiment,  foreboding,  foretaste. 
Presiding,  managing,  directing,  controlling. 
Pressure,  urgency,  exigency,  hurry,  crushing^. 
Pretence,  cloak,  mask,  garb,  pretext,  excuse. 
Pretend,  feign,  affect,  simulate,  profess. 
Pretension,  claim,  demand,  show,  pretence. 
Pretext  (see  Pretence). 

Pretty,  beautiful,  neat,  trim,  fine,  handlome. 
Prevail,  predominate,  obtain,  succeed. 
Prevailing,  proper,  prevalent,  ruling. 
Prevaricate,  quibble,  cavil,  shuffle,  equivocate 
Previous,  preceding,  foregoing,  antecedent. 
Prey,  food,  victim,  sacrifice,  spoil,  booty. 
Price,  cost,  charge,  expense,  figure,  outlay, 
Priceless,  invaluable,  inestimable. 
Prick,  puncture,  pierce,  bore,  spur,  goad. 
Priggish,  dandified,  foppish,  affected. 
Prim,  precise,  demure,  formal,  starched. 
Prime,  primal,  first,  capital,  first-rate. 
Princely,  royal,  regal,  stately,  august,  noble, 
Principally,  chiefly,  essentially,  mainly. 
Print,  mark,  impress,  stamp,  imprint. 
Priority,  precedence,  preference. 
Pristine,  first,  primitive,  original,  old,  former*    - 
Privy,  secret,  private,  personal,  peculiar. 
Prize,  s.  seizure,  capture,  booty,  spoil,  loot. 
Prize,  v.  assess,  value,  esteem,  rate,  appraisec 
Probability,  chance,  likelihood,  appearance. 
Procedure,  proceeding,  act,  process,  course. 
Proceed,  move,  pass,  advance,  arise,  issue. 


SYNONYMS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


$8? 


Procession   train,  march,  caravan,  retinue. 
Proclaim,  advertise,  announce,  publish. 
Proclamation,  degree,  edict,  ordinance,  fiat. 
Proclivity,  propensity,  proneness,  tendency. 
Procrastinate,  delay,  defer,  adjourn,  postpone. 
Procure,  obtain,  acquire,  gain,  get,  reap. 
Prodigy,  wonder,  miracle,  marvel,  monster. 
Produce,  product,  profit,  result,  effect. 
Profess,  affect,  pretend,  feign,  own. 
Proffer,  volunteer,  offer,  propose,  tender. 
Proficient,  adept,  master,  expert. 
Progeny,  children,  descendants. 
Progress,  advancement,  growth,  progression. 
Project,  s.  design,  place,  scheme,  contrivance. 
Project,  v.  shoot,  discharge,  throw,  hurl. 
Prolific,  productive,  generative,  fertile. 
Prolix,  diffuse,  long,  prolonged,  tedious. 
Prolong,  protract,  lengthen,  extend,  continue, 
prominent,  eminent,  conspicuous,  marked. 
Promiscnous,  mixed,  unarranged,  mingled 
Promise,  word,  engagement,  assurance. 
Promote,  encourage,  aid,  further,  advance. 
Prompt,  incite,  animate,  urge,  impel. 
Prone,  inclining,  prostrate,  flat,  tending. 
Prop,  maintain,  sustain,  support,  stay. 
Prophesy,  foretell,  predict,  prognosticate! 
Propitiate,  conciliate,  reconcile. 
Propitious,  fortunate,  promising,  favorable. 
Proportion,  rate,  ratio,  degree. 
Proportionate,  adequate,  equal,  commensurate. 
Proposal,  offer,  tender,  overture,  proposition. 
Proprietor,  possessor,  owner,  master. 
Propriety,  expediency,  fitness,  justness. 
Prorogue,  adjourn,  postpone,  delay,  defer. 
Prosper,  flourish,  succeed,  grow  rich,  thrive. 
Prosperity,  well-being,  weal,  welfare,  happiness. 
Prostrate,  oppressed,  trampled  on,  abject. 
Protect,  defend,  vindicate,  guard,  fortify,  save. 
Protection,  shield,  defence,  preservation,  guard. 
Protest,  assert,  affirm,  declare,  predict,  aver. 
Protract,  extend,  prolong,  continue,  delay. 
Protrude,  jut,  project,  bulge,  Shootout,  suspend. 
Proud,  stately,  vain,  lofty,  arrogant,  conceited. 
Proverb,  adage,  maxim,  aphorism,  saying,  saw. 
Provision,  food,  supplies,  clause,  duty,  function. 
Proximate,  next,  immediate,  nearest,  closest. 
Proximity,  nearness,  vicinity,  neighborhood. 
Prudence,  carefulness,  judgment,  discretion. 
Prurient,  itching,  craving,  hankering,  longing. 
Pry,  scrutinize,  peep,  peer,  look  into,  search. 
Public,  common,  general,  open,  notorious. 
Pull,  draw,  haul,  gather,  drag,  tug. 
Punctilious,  triflingly  nice,  particular,  formal. 
Punctual,  exact,  precise,  nice,  particular. 
Pungent,  acrid,  acrimonious,  piquant,  smart. 
Punish,  chastise,  castigate,  correct,  chasten. 
Puny,  petty,  weak,  tiny,  dwarfish,  trivial,  trifling. 
Pupil,  scholar,  disciple,  learner,  student,  ward. 
Pupilage,  nonage,  minority,  boyhood. 
Purify,  clarify,  clear,  cleanse. 
Purloin,  steal,  pilfer,  filch, 
'purpose,  propose,  intend,  mean. 
Pursue,  chase,  hunt,  track,  follow,  prosecute. 
Push,  thrust,  impel,  urge,  press,  drive. 
Putative,  supposed,  reputed,  credited,  deemed. 
Putrefy,  rot,  decompose,  corrupt,  decay. 

QUAGMIRE,  bog,  morass,  marsh,  fen,  swamp. 
Quaint,  artful,  curious,  far-fetched,  fanciful,  odd. 
Quake,  quail,  shake,  tremble,  shudder,  quiver. 


Qualification,  capacity,  fitness,  capability. 
Qualify,  fit,  competent,  adapt,  suit,  abate. 
Quantity,  amount,  sum,  deal,  portion,  part. 
Quarrelsome,  irritable,  hot,  fiery,  irascible. 
Quarter,  territory,  district,  locality,  region. 
Queer,  quaint,  whimsical,  odd,  strange,  eccentric. 
Quell,  crush,  calm,  subdue,  repress,  suppress. 
Quench,  extinguish,  put  out,  stifle,  check,  cool. 
Querulous,  complaining,  fretting,  repining. 
Query,  question,  inquiry,  interrogatory. 
Quibble,  cavil,  evade,  equivocate,  shuffle. 
Quiet,  v.  calm,  still,  hush,  lull,  pacify. 
Quiet,  s.  ease,  rest,  repose,  quietude,  calm. 
Quit,  relinquish,  abandon,  leave,  forego,  resign. 
Quite,  altogether,  completely,  wholly,  entirely. 
Quiver,  quake,  shake,  tremble,  vibrate,  shiver. 
Quixotic,  romantic,  wild,  freakish. 
Quota,  share,  contingent,  proportion,  rate. 
Quote,  note,  repeat,  cite,  adduce. 

RABID,  mad,  furious,  raging,  frantic. 
Rack,  agonize,  wring,  torture,  excruciate. 
Racy,  spicy,  pungent,  smart,  spirited,  lively. 
Rage,  s.  anger,  indignation,  choler,  fury,  passion, 
Rage,  v,  storm,  rave,  fret,  chafe,  fume. 
Rail,  censure,  bluster,  scold. 
Rake,  libertine,  debauchee,  scrape,  gather. 
Rakish,  dissolute,  licentious,  libertine,  loose. 
Rally,  banter,  mock,  lidicule,  deride,  assemble. 
Ramble,  s.  excursion,  tour,  jaunt. 
Ramble,  v.  wander,  stroll,  roam,  rove,  range. 
Rambling,  discursive,  roving,  desultory. 
Ransack,  rummage,  pillage,  overhaul,  explore. 
Ransom,  emancipate,  free,  unfetter, 
Rant,  bombast,  fustian,  cant. 
Rapacious,  ravenous,  voracious,  greedy. 
Rapine,  spoliation,  depredation,  robbery,  pillage, 
Rapture,  ecstasy,  transport,  delight,  bliss. 
Rascal,  scoundrel,  rogue,  knave,  scamp. 
Rashness,  temerity,  precipitation,  hastiness. 
Ratify,  confirm,  establish,  substantiate,  sanction. 
Ravenous,  rapacious,  greedy,  voracious. 
Raving,  distracted,  frantic,  mad,  furious,  angry. 
Raze,  demolish,  destroy,  overthrow,  ruin. 
Reach,  touch,  stretch,  attain,  gain,  arrive  at. 
Readiness,  promptness,  alacrity,  aptness,  knack. 
Realize,  accomplish,  achieve,  effect,  gain,  get. 
Realm,  kingdom,  state,  nation,  empire,  province. 
Reap,  gain,  get,  acquire,  obtain. 
Rear,  lift,  elevate,  erect,  breed,  raise,  train. 
Reason,  s.  motive,  design,  end,  argument,  proof. 
Reason,  v.  deduce,  draw  from,  trace,  infer. 
Reasonable,  intelligent,  rational,  wise,  judicious. 
Rebellion,  insurrection,  revolt. 
Rebound,  recall,  reverberate. 

Recall,  revoke,  reclaim,  call  back,  annul,  cancel. 
Recant,  recall,  abjure,  retract,  revoke. 
Recapitulate,  repeat,  recite,  rehearse,  enumerate, 
Recede,  retire,  retreat,  withdraw,  ebb. 
Receive,  accept,  take,  admit,  entertain. 
Recent,  fresh,  late,  new,  novel,  modern. 
Reception,  receiving,  levee,  receipt,  admission. 
Recess,  retreat,  depth,  niche,  vacation. 
Reciprocal,  mutual,  alternate,  interchangeable. 
Recite,  relate,  tell,  repeat,  rehearse,  recapitulate* 
Reckoning,  account,  bill,  charge,  score. 
Reclaim,  recall,  reform,  regain,  recover. 
Recline,  lean,  rest,  repose,  lie. 
Recoil,  rebound,  roll,  reverberate,  shrink  fronio 
Recollect,  bear  in  mind,  remember,  think  of. 


583 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Recommend  (See  Commend). 
Reconcilable,  placable,  forgiving,  consistent. 
Reconcile,  conciliate,  pacify,  propitiate. 
Record,  enroll,  note,  register,  minute,  chronicle. 
Records,  annals,  monuments,  archives. 
Recreant,  cowardly,  base,  dastardh  ,  craven. 
Recreation,  sport,  pastime,  play,  amusement. 
Rectitude,  justice,  uprightness,  integrity,  virtue. 
Recumbent,  leaning,  lying,  resting,  reposing. 
Recur,  resort,  betake,  return,  revert. 
Redolent,  odorous,  aromatic,  fragrant. 
Redound,  tend,  conduce,  contribute,  add. 
Redundant,  superfluous,  unnecessary. 
Re-echo,  resound,  repeat,  ring,  reverberate. 
Reel,  stagger,  totter,  falter,  roll. 
Refer,  appeal,  allude,  advert,  relate,  belong. 
Referee,  umpire,  judge,  arbitrator,  arbiter. 
Reference,  regard,  relation,  hint,  allusion. 
Refined,  polite,  courtly,  polished,  genteel. 
Reformation,  improvement,  reform,  amendment. 
Refresh,  revive,  enliven,  cheer,  renew,  vivify. 
Refund,  reimburse,  pay  back,  repay,  return. 
Refuse,  v.  deny,  reject,  repudiate,  decline. 
Refuse,  s.  dregs,  dross,  scum,  rubbish,  leavings. 
Refute,  disprove,  falsify,  negative. 
Regain,  recover,  retrieve,  get  back. 
Regal,  royal,  kingly,  imperial,  princely. 
Regal**,  feast,  entertain,  delight,  refresh,  gratify. 
Register  (See  Record). 

Rehearse,  narrate,  repeat,  recite,  recount,  tell. 
Reimburse,  refund,  repay,  satisfy,  indemnify. 
Rein,  restrain,  moderate,  govern,  control. 
Reject,  repel,  renounce,  decline,  refuse. 
Rejoice,  delight,  joy,  gladden,  exult,  revel. 
Rejoinder,  retort,  parry,  reply,  answer. 
Relate,  report,  tell,  recount,  narrate,  detail. 
Related,  cognate,  connected,  kindred,  akin. 
Relatives,  kindred,  kinsmen,  relations. 
Relax,  abate,  slacken,  loosen,  soften,  relent. 
Release,  free,  extricate,  disengage,  liberate. 
Relevant,  fit,  proper,  suitable,  appropriate. 
Reliance,  trust,  hope,  dependence,  confidence. 
Relief,  succor,  aid,  help,  redress,  alleviation. 
Religious,  pious,  godly,  holy,  devout,  sacred. 
Relish,  taste,  flavor,  piquancy,  gusto. 
Reluctant,  unwilling,  averse,  loth,  disinclined. 
Remainder,  residue,  rest,  remnant. 
Remark,  note,  heed,  comment,  observe 
Remedial,  healing,  curative,  mitigating. 
Remedy,  help,  relief,  redress,  cure,  specific. 
Remember,  recall,  recollect,  mind. 
Remnant    (See  Remainder). 
Remonstrate,  object,  protest,  expostulate. 
Remorse,  self-condemnation,  anguish. 
Remote,  distant,  far,  secluded,  indirect. 
Remove,  displace,  dislodge,  withdraw,  suppress. 
Rend,  tear,  disunite,  split,  lacerate. 
Render,  present,  restore,  return,  requite. 
Renew,  restore,  furbish,  revive,  renovate. 
Repair,  mend,  retrieve,  recover,  restore. 
Repay,  reimburse,  reward,  refund,  return. 
Repeal,  abolish,  revoke,  recall,  reverse,  rescind. 
Repeatedly,  again  and  again,  frequently,  often, 
t  Repel,  reject,  refuse,  deter,  repulse,  beat  back. 
Hepine,  grumble,  fret,  grieve,  murmur. 
Replace,  reinstate,  refund,  restore. 
Reply,  response,  answer,  rejoinder,  replication. 
Report,  announce,  notify,  tell,  communicate. 
Repose,  s.  quiet,  quietude,  peace,  ease,  rest. 
Repose,  v.  rest,  recline,  lie,  settle,  confide. 


Represent,  paint,  sketch,  portray,  delineate. 
Representative,  agent,  commissioner,  deputyt 
Repress,  quell,  crush,  subdue,  check,  curb. 
Reprieve,  pardon,  acquittal,  respite. 
Reprimand,  chide,  check,  reprove,  rebuke. 
Reproach,  blame,  taunt,  upbraid,  rebuke. 
Reprobate,  villain,  ruffian,  miscreant,  castaway* 
Reproduce,  propagate,  imitate,  represent,  copy. 
Reprove,  chide,  rebuke,  reprimand,  scold. 
Request,  desire,  beg,  ask,  beseech,  entreat. 
Requite,  reward,  compensate,  repay,  punish. 
Rescind,  revoke,  repeal,  annul,  recall,  reverse. 
Rescue,  save,  preserve,  recover,  recapture. 
Resent,  resist,  oppose,  repel,  rebel. 
Reserve,  shyness,  modesty,  coyness,  reservation- 
Reside,  dwell,  sojourn,  abide,  live. 
Resident,  occupant,  dweller,  tenant,  inhabitant. 
Residue    (See  Remainder). 
Resign,  relinquish,  leave,  abandon,  abdicate. 
Resist,  withstand,  oppose,  check,  thwart. 
Resort,  v.  fly  to,  retreat,  repair,  retire,  go. 
Resort,  5\  haunt,  retreat,  recourse. 
Resound,  echo,  re-echo,  ring,  respond. 
Respect,  regard,  prefer,  venerate,  defer. 
Respite,  reprieve,  interval,  stop,  pause. 
Respond,  reply,  answer,  rejoin,  correspond. 
Restitution,  return,  reparation,  amends. 
Rei-tive,  obstinate,  stubborn,  impatient. 
Restrain,  repress,  check,  stop,  limit,  hinder. 
Resume,  recommence,  begin  again,  renew. 
Retain,  keep,  hold,  restrain,  retard,  detain. 
Retaliate,  repay,  revenge,  requite,  retort. 
Retard,  clog,  impede,  obstruct,  detain,  defer. 
Retire,  leave,  depart,  recede,  retreat,  withdraw. 
Retirement,  seclusion,  privacy,  retreat. 
Retort,  reply,  rejoinder,  answer,  repartee. 
Retract,  recall,  revoke,  recant,  abjure,  unsay, 
Retribution,  penalty,  punishment,  requital. 
Retrieve,  recover,  rescue,  regain,  restore. 
Retrospect,  review,  reminiscence,  survey. 
Return,  reappear,  recur,  revert,  repay. 
Reveal,  disclose,  show,  divulge,  expose,  publish 
Revel,  feast,  carouse,  luxuriate,  banquet. 
Revenge,  vengeance,  retaliation,  requital. 
Revengeful,  unforgiving,  spiteful,  resentful. 
Revenue,  produce,  income,  fruits,  proceeds. 
Revert,  return,  recur,  refer  to. 
Revise,  review,  reconsider. 
Revoke,  repeal,  retract,  rescind,  annul,  cancel. 
Revolt,  rebel,  resist,  shock. 
Revolting,  shocking,  disgusting,  frightful. 
Revolve,  turn,  circulate,  whirl,  twirl,  wheel. 
Ridicule,  laugh  at,  deride,  mock,  lampoon. 
Rifle,  pillage,  plunder,  sack,  strip,  rob. 
Rightful,  legitimate,  true,  lawful,  fair. 
Riot,  commotion,  tumult,  uproar,  row,  confusjqf* 
Ripe,  ready,  mellow,  complete,  mature. 
Rise,  arise,  mount,  ascend,  climb. 
Risible,  laughable,  ludicrous,  comical,  funny. 
Risk,  hazard,  stake,  chance,  endanger,  dare. 
Rite,  ceremony,  observance,  solemnity. 
Rival,  antagonist,  opponent,  competitor. 
Roam,  ramble,  rove,  wander,  stray,  stroll. 
Roar,  thunder,  peal,  howl,  yell,  vociferate. 
Robbery,  theft,  plunder,  pillage,  larceny. 
Roll,  v.  revolve,  wheel,  trundle,  wallow,  peal. 
Roll,  s.  list,  scroll,  schedule,  register,  catalogue. 
Room,  hall,  chamber,  apartment,  space. 
Round,  circular,  entire,  spherical,  complete. 
Rout,  discomfit,  beat,  defeat,  overthrow. 


SYNONYMS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


589 


fw«te,  road,  course,  march,  way,  journey,  path. 

Rove,  wander,  stroll,  ramble,  roam. 

Royal  (See  Regal.) 

Rubbish,  fragments,  debris,  litter,  wreck,  dross. 

Rugged,  uneven,  jagged,  rough,  gruff,  harsh. 

Ruinous,  destructive,  hurtful,  deleterious. 

Rumor,  hearsay,  talk,  fame,  report,  bruit. 

Rumple,  pucker,  crease,  wrinkle,  crumple. 

Run,  flee,  scamper,  fly,  hasten. 

Rupture,  fracture,  breach,  burst,  disruption. 

Ruse,  trick,  stratagem,  dodge. 

Rush,  stream,  sweep,  dash,  press,  roll. 

SAFE,  sure,  secure,  certain,  substantial. 
Sake,  account,  behalf,  purpose,  end,  regard. 
Salary,  wages,  allowance,  pay,  stipend,  hire. 
Salubrious,  healthy,  healthful,  healing,  sanitary. 
Salutation,  greeting,  address,  welcome. 
Sameness,  identity,  oneness,  monotony. 
Sample,  specimen,  model,  pattern,  example. 
Sapient,  sagacious,  discerning,  knowing,  sage. 
Sarcasm,  satire,  irony,  chaff,  ridicule,  mockery. 
Satiate,  glut,  gorge,  satisfy,  surfeit. 
Satire  (See  Sarcasm.) 

Satisfy,  please,  gratify,  convince,  satiate,  glut. 
Saturate,  steep,  soak,  imbue. 
Saucy,  impertinent,  rude,  impudent,  insolent. 
Saunter,  ramble,  stroll,  loiter,  linger. 
Savory,  tasty ,  piquant,  tasteful,  palatable. 
Saw,  adage,  proverb,  maxim,  byeword,  saying. 
Scale,  gamut,  layer,  flake,  balance. 
Scanty,  bare,  pinched,  insufficient,  slender. 
Scarce,  rare,  singular,  uncommon,  unique. 
Scarcity,  dearth,  famine,  lack,  want. 
Scene,  spectacle,  show,  sight,  exhibition,  view. 
Scheme,  design,  plan,  project,  theory,  intrigue. 
Scholar,  disciple,  pupil,  student,  savant. 
Science,  knowledge,  learning,  scholarship. 
Scoff,  jibe,  jeer,  sneer,  deride,  taunt,  twit. 
Scorn,  contempt,  disdain,  mockery,  sneer. 
Scraggy,  lean,  bony,  thin,  skinny,  gaunt 
Scrap,  bit,  fragment,  crumb,  piece,  morsel. 
Scribe,  penman,  writer,  scribbler,  scrivener. 
Scruple,  hesitate,  doubt,  waver. 
Scrupulous,  strict,  nice,  conscientious,  precise. 
S  rutinize,  examine,  sift,  investigate. 
Season,  time,  period,  occasion,  term,  spell. 
Seasonable,  timely,  fit,  opportune,  convenient 
Secular,  -worldly,  temporal,  civil,  lay,  profane. 
Secure,  certain,  sure,  safe,  fast,  fixed,  snug. 
Sediment,  dregs,  dross,  refuse,  lees,  grounds. 
Sedition,  insurrection,  rebellion,  revolt,  mutiny. 
Seem,  look,  appear. 
Seemly,  fit,  suitable,  becoming,  decent. 
Seldom,  rarely,  infrequently. 
Select,  elect,  prefer,  choose,  pick,  cull. 
Sell,  vend,  dispose  of,  hawk,  retail. 
Send,  transmit,  forward,  despatch. 
Seniority,  eldership,  superiority,  priority. 
Sensibility,  feeline,  perception,  sensitiveness. 
Sensual,  carnal,  fleshy,  voluptuous,  animal. 
Sentence,  decision,  judgment,  doom,  passage. 
Sequel,  end,  close,  termination,  conclusion. 
Serene,  calm,  peaceful,  unruffled. 
Series,  course,  process,  succession,  order. 
Serious,  grave,  solemn,  weighty,  solid,  earnest 
Serve,  aid,  assist,  help,    ;ork  for,  forward. 
Service,  advantage,  use,  Benefit. 
Servile,  mean,  low,  abject,  sneaking. 
Set,  put,  place,  lay,  arrange. 


Settle,  arrange,  adjust,  regulate,  organize. 

Sever,  break,  disconnect,  dissever,  separate. 

Several,  sundry,  divers,  various,  many. 

Shade,  shadow,  dim,  obscure,  cloud. 

Shake,  tremble,  shudder,  shiver,  quake,  quivec. 

Shallow,  superficial,  flimsy,  slight, 

Shame,  disgrace,  dishonor. 

Shape,  form,  fashion,  mould,  model. 

Share,  portion,  lot,  division,  quantity,  quota. 

Shatter,  shiver,  derange,  disorder. 

Shed,  pour,  effuse,  spread,  spill,  diffuse. 

Shelter,  cover,  screen,  lodge,  protect. 

Shift,  v.  transpose,  contrive,  change,  alter,  veer. 

Shift,  s.  evasion,  expedient,  resource. 

Shine,  glow,  gleam,  glisten,  glitter,  radiate. 

Shiver,  shatter,  break,  quake,  shudder,  quiver. 

Shock,  brunt,  clash,  blow,  collision. 

Shocking,  disgusting,  revolting,  dreadful. 

Short,  brief,  concise,  curt,  compendious. 

Showy,  pompous,  gorgeous,  fine,  gay,  grand. 

Shrewd,  sharp,  acute,  sagacious,  keen. 

Shroud,  veil,  cover. 

Shudder,  shake,  tremble,  quake,  quiver. 

Shuffle,  equivocate,  quibble,  cavil,  evade. 

Shun,  avoid,  elude,  evade. 

Shut,  close,  preclude. 

Shy,  timid,  reserved. 

Sight,  seeing,  preemption,  view,  vision,  spectacle. 

Signalize,  distinguish,  exalt,  immortalize. 

Signify,  express,  declare,  intimate,  imply. 

Silence,  s.  stillness,  quiet,  calm. 

Silence,  v.  gag,  refute,  hush,  stifle. 

S-lly,  simple,  imbecile,  foolish,  witless,  iinwise. 

Similar,  resembling,  alike,  corresponding. 

Sin,  wrong,  wickedness,  iniquity,  crime,  evil. 

Sink,  droop,  descend,  suppress,  conceal. 

Sketch,  paint,  depict,  delineate,  portray. 

Skilful,  clever,  expert,  apt,  dexterous,  adroit 

Skill,  aptitude,  expertness,  contrivance. 

Skulk,  sneak,  hide,  cover,  slink,  shroud,  veil. 

Slack,  remiss,  careless,  negligent,  backward. 

Slacken,  loosen,  unbind,  relax,  abate,  flag. 

Slaughter,  bloodshed,  carnage,  butchery. 

Slavish,  drudging,  servile,  menial,  abject. 

Slay,  kill,  murder,  assassinate. 

Sleek,  glossy,  shiny,  velvety,  silken. 

Slender,  small,  trivial,  slight,  fragile,  slim,  thin. 

Slight,  a.  slender,  slim,  small,  superficial. 

Slight,  s.  neglect,  contempt,  scorn,  disdain. 

Slippery,  smooth,  glossy,  unsafe,  deceptive. 

Slothful,  sluggish,  lazy,  inactive,  idle,  indolent 

Slovenly,  loose,  negligent,  disorderly,  untidy. 

Slow,  dilatory,  tardy,  sluggish,  tedious,  dull. 

Sluggish  (See Slothful). 

Slur,  reflection,  stain,  spot,  blemish. 

Small,  little,  diminutive,  minute,  slight,  trivial. 

Smear,  daub,  besmear,  begrime,  varnish. 

Smell,  fragrance,  perfume,  scent,  odor. 

Smite,  beat,  strike,  slay,  kill,  afflict,  chasten. 

Smoke,  fumes,  vapor,  nothing,  moonshine. 

Smooth,  a.  suave,  bland,  even,  level,  plain. 

Smooth,  v.  level,  flatten,  ease,  calm,  mollify. 

Snare,  trap,  net,  gin,  spring. 

Snatch,  pluck,  pull,  twitch,  catch,  clutch,  grasp. 

Sneak,  crouch,  cringe,  truckle,  slink,  skulk. 

Sneer,  scoff,  taunt,  jibe,  mock. 

Snub,  rebuke,  reprimand,  humiliate,  nip,  clip. 

Snug,  close,  compact,  concealed,  comfortable. 

Soak,  wet,  moisten,  steep,  drench,  saturate. 

Soar,  rise,  mount,  tower,  ascend,  aspire. 


$90 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Social,,  civil,  civic,  sociable,  convivial, 
^ofteu,  humanize,  mollify,  mitigate. 
Sojourn,  dwell,  reside,  lodge,  rest,  abide,  stay. 
>olace,  comfort,  consolation,  relief, 
xjle,  only,  solitary,  single,  alone,  individual. 
Solicitous,  apprehensive,  uneasy,  concerned. 
Solicitude,  carefulness,  concern,  trouble,  care. 
Solve,  unriddle,  clear  up,  resolve,  explain. 
Song,  ballad,  carol,  ditty,  lay,  strain,  poem, 
soon,  shortly,  early,  quick,  quickly,  promptly. 
Sorrow,  affliction,  distress,  grief,  trouble. 
Sound,  ring,  peal,  clash,  clang,  investigate. 
Sovereign,  regal,  royal,  imperial,  principal. 
Space,  room,  interval,  extent,  expanse,  field. 
Spacious,  ample,  roomy,  capacious,  extensive. 
Spare,  V.  afford,  give,  husband,  store,  forbear. 
Spare,  a.  meagre,  scanty,  frugal,  stinted,  lean. 
Sparkle,  shine,  flash,  gleam,  twinkle,  glitter. 
Speak,  converse,  say,  tell,  talk,  discourse,  utter. 
Special,  exceptional,  peculiar,  specific. 
Specify,  particularize,  state,  designate,  mention. 
Specimen,  model,  pattern,  sample,  illustration. 
Specious,  colorable,  plausible,  show}7. 
Spectator,  observer,  bystander,  onlooker. 
Speech,  oration,  address. 
Speedy,  early,  quick,  fast,  rapid,  swift,  fleet. 
Spirited,  lively,  racy,  animated,  vivacious. 
Split,  cleave,  break,  burst,  crack,  divide. 
Spoil,  destroy,  mar,  impair,  injure,  plunde" 
Spontaneous,  voluntary,  willing,  gratuitous. 
Spot,  place,  sight,  locality,  speck,  stain,  blot. 
Spring,  source,  origin,  rise,  fountain 
Sprout,  s.  shoot,  gc— n,  twig,  stem,  scion. 
Sprout,  v.  bud,  germinate,  shoot  forth,  spring. 
Spruce,  neat,  trim,  tidy,  foppish,  dandified. 
Spur,  goad,  incite,  urge,  stimulate. 
Spurious,  counterfeit,  fictitious,  unauthentic. 
Spurn,  despise,  disdain,  scout,  scorn. 
Spy,  see,  discern,  discover,  view. 
Squalid,  foul,  filthy,  dirty,  unclean,  mucky. 
Squander,  waste,  consume,  dissipate. 
Squeamish,  fastidious,  over-nice,  scrupulous. 
Squeeze,  press,  pinch,  push,  gripe,  cram. 
Stagnant,  motionless,  lifeless,  tideless,  standing. 
Staid,  steady,  sober,  demure,  grave,  sedate. 
Stalwart,  able-bodied,  powerful. 
Stammer,  stutter,  hesitate,  falter. 
Stand,  stop,  rest,  stagnate,  endure,  halt. 
Standard,  criterion,  measure,  gauge,  test,  rule. 
Standing,  a.  stagnant,  permanent,  fixed. 
Standing,  s.  status,  ground,  station,  position. 
Starved,  famished,  lean,  ill-fed,  emaciated. 
State,  condition,  predicament,  case,  province. 
Stationary,  immovable,  fixed,  motionless. 
Staunch,  steadfast,  fast,  constant,  reliable. 
Stay,  staff,  prop,  support,  buttress,  sustainment. 
Steadfast,  constant,  staunch,  firm,  resolved. 
Steady,  firm,  fixed,  constant,  regular. 
Steal,  purloin,  pilfer,  filch,  embezzle. 
Steep,  precipitous,  abrupt,  hilly,  craggy. 
Step,  pace,  degree,  grade,  track,  proceeding. 
Sterile,  unfruitful,  barren,  desert,  unproductive. 
Stern,  harsh,  severe,  austere,  rigid,  rigorous. 
Stick,  hold,  fasten,  adhere,  attach,  fix. 
Stigma,  mark,  brand,  infamy,  disgrace,  blot. 
Stingy,  close,  mean,  niggardly,  sparing. 
Stint,  limit,  stop,  restrict. 
Stipulate,  bargain,  contract,  agree  on,  engage. 
Stir,  budge,  move,  agitate,  disturb,  excite. 
Stock,  hoard,  store,  fund,  supply,  accunmlate. 


Stolid,  obtuse,  heavy-headed,  doltish,  senseleifc, 
Stoop,  bend,  yield,  condescend. 
Stormy,  tempestuous,  boisterous,  blustering. 
Story,  tale,  narrative,  incident. 
Straight,  right,  direct,  undeviating. 
Strain,  stretch,  tighten,  exert,  filter. 
Stranger,  foreigner,  alien. 
Stray,  rove,  ramble,  err,  digress,  deviate. 
Stream,  current,  tide,  drift. 

Strength,  power,  might,  authority,  force,  vigor. 
Stress,  emphasis,  force,  accent,  strain,  weight. 
Stretch,  spread,  expand,  extend,  lengthen. 
Stricture,  censure,  blame,  animadversion. 
Strike,  hit,  beat,  smite. 

Strip,  denude,  divest,  bare,  despoil,  rob,  rifle. 
Strive,  labor,  struggle,  aim.  coiitc-ncL,  contest- 
Structure,  construction,  building,  edifice,  fabric. 
Studious,  diligent,  thoughtful,  careful,  mindful* 
Study,  thought,  consideration,  care,  attention. 
Stun,  stupefy,  confound,  bewilder,  astonish. 
Stupendous,  astounding,  amazing,  marvellous,. 
Stupid,  stolid,  dull,  obtuse,  heavy-headed. 
Sturd)',  robust,  strong,  stalwart,  muscular. 
Subject,  matter,  question,  material,  exposed. 
Submerge,  inundate,  drown,  deluge,  flood,  sink. 
Submit,  succumb,  comply,  yield. 
Subsequent,  later,  posterior,  following. 
Subsist,  exist,  be,  live,  continue. 
Substitute,  deputy,  representative,  proxy. 
Subterfuge,  evasion,  shift,  quirk,  subtility,  dodgu, 
Subtile,  fine,  thin,  rare,  delicate,  nice,  acute. 
Subtle,  cunning,  crafty,  astute,  sly,  wily,  artfuL 
Subtract,  deduct,  subduct,  withdraw,  remove. 
Succeed,  flourish,  thrive,  prosper,  follow. 
Success,  good  fortune,  prosperity,  victory,  issue,, 
Successful,  fortunate,  lucky,  happy. 
Succession,  order,  series,  rotation,  lineage,  race. 
Succinct,  brief,  short,  concise,  summary. 
Succumb,  yield,  submit,  comply,  resign,  give  in. 
Suffocate,  smother,  strangle,  stifle,  choke. 
Suffrage,  vote,  voice. 

Suggest,  hint,  allude,  refer,  intimate,  propose. 
Sulky,  sullen,  heavy,  dull,  sluggish,  gloomy. 
Sum,  amount,  quantity,  total,  whole,  problem. 
Summary,  short,  brief,  concise,  compendious. 
Summit,  top,  height,  culmination,  acme,  apex. 
Summon,  call,  fetch,  cite,  bid,  challenge. 
Sumptuous,  costly,  expensive,  dear,  valuable. 
Sunder,  part,  break,  separate,  divide,  disjoin. 
Sundry,  many,  different,  several ,  various,  divers. 
Superb,  princely,  grand,  splendid,  magnificent. 
Superficial,  shallow,  flimsy,  slight,  imperfect- 
Superior,  higher,  upper,  noble,  head. 
Superlative,  highest,  greatest,  extreme. 
Supernatural,  miraculous,  preternatural. 
Supersede,  overrule,  annul,  set  aside,  suspend. 
Supple,  lithe,  flexible,  pliant,  bending,  yielding. 
Supplement,  addition,  appendix,  postscript. 
Supporter,  adherent,  partisan,  follower. 
Suppress,  repress,  crush,  quell,  restrain,  stifle 

TASK,  business,  work,  labor,  toil,  lesson. 
Tasteless,  flat,  insipid,  mawkish,  vapid,  dead 
Tattle,  babble,  chatter,  prattle,  gossip. 
Tautology,  verbosity,  repetition,  reiteration. 
Tax,  toll,  duty,  rate,  assessment,  impost. 
Teacher,  schoolmaster,  profes?  >r,  preceptor. 
Teaching,  instruction,  trainin    .education. 
Tear,  rend,  break,  lacerate,  sever,  sunder. 
Tease,  vex,  plague,  torment,  irritate. 


SYNONYMS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


591 


Tempestuous,  violent,  boisterous,  stormy,  windy. 
Temporal,  worldly,  terrestrial,  mundane. 
Temporize,  fence,  manoeuvre,  procrastinate. 
Tenable,  defensible,  sound,  reasonable. 
Tenacity,  retentiveness,  fixity,  stubbornness. 
Tender,  v.  offer,  proffer,  produce,  bid. 
Tender,  a.  mild,  kind,  bland,  indulgent,  gentle. 
Tenet,  doctrine,  dogma,  principle,  position. 
Tenor,  meaning,  drift,  intent,  sense,  purport. 
/Tension,  strain,  force,  tone,  stretch,  tightness. 
'Terminate,  close,  end,  conclude,  complete,  stop. 
Terrestrial,  worldly,  earthly,  mundane. 
Terrible,  awful,  terrific,  tremendous,  fearful. 
Terrify,  frighten,  horrify,  appal,  scare. 
Testify,  depose,  declare,  swear,  attest,  witness. 
Thankful,  grateful,  obliged. 
Thankless,  ungracious,  profitless,  ungrateful. 
Theft,  robbery,  depredation,  spoliation. 
Theme,  subject,  topic,  text,  essay. 
Theory,  speculation,  scheme,  plea,  hypothesis. 
Therefore,  accordingly,  consequently,  hence. 
Thinness,  slenderness,  attenuation,  rarefaction. 
Thought,  idea,  conception,  imagination,  fancy. 
Thraldom,  slavery,  enslavement,  servitude. 
Thrilling,  stirring,  enlivening,  awakening. 
Throb,  palpitate,  heave,  beat. 
Throw,  propel,  cast,  hurl,  fling. 
Thrust,  push,  drive,  force,  impel,  urge. 
Thwart,  oppose,  oppugn,  resist,  frustrate. 
Tickle,  amuse,  titillate,  gratify. 
Tide,  current,  stream,  course,  influx. 
Tidings,  news,  intelligence,  report,  advice. 
Tidy,  orderly,  neat,  spruce,  clean,  cleanly. 
Tie,  band,  ligament,  ligature. 
Tight,  tense,  stretched,  not  slack. 
Time,  duration,  season,  period,  era,  age,  date. 
Timely,  seasonably,  opportune,  judicious. 
Timid,  timorous,  fearful,  afraid,  pusillanimous. 
Tincture,  tinge,  dye,  color,  stain,  impregnate. 
Tinge,  flavor,  taste,  color,  dye. 
Tint,  shade,  tinge,  hue,  color,  stain,  dye. 
Tiny,  small,  little,  diminutive,  wee,  liliputian. 
Tip,  point,  extremity,  top,  cap. 
Tipsy,  drunk,  intoxicated,  inebriated,  fuddled. 
Tire,  exhaust,  fatigue,  bore,  weary,  jade,  harass. 
Tissue,  web,  fabric,  texture. 
Tittle,  jot,  whit,  iota,  atom,  grain. 
Toil,  work,  task,  travail,  pain,  labor,  drudgery. 
Tolerable,  passable,  ordinary,  middling. 
Tomb,  grave,  sepulchre. 

Tone,  style,  manner,  mode,  sound,  intonation. 
Tongue,  speech,  language,  idiom,  dialect,  talk. 
Top,  summit,  apex,  head,  crown,  surface. 
Topic,  subject,  theme,  question,  matter. 
Torpor,  heaviness,  lethargy,  dullness,  laziness. 
Torrid,  burning,  hot,  parching,  scorching. 
Torture,  torment,  anguish,  agony. 
Tortuous,  twisted,  winding,  crooked,  indirect. 
Toss,  pitch,  cast,  hurl,  shake,  rock,  buffet. 
Totally,  entirely,  quite,  altogether,  fully. 
Totter,  falter,  reel,  rock,  tremble,  shake. 
Touching,  tender,  affecting,  moving,  pathetic. 
Tough,  strong,  hard,  firm,  leathery,  difficult. 
Tour,  excursion,  ramble,  trip,  jaunt,  outing. 
Toy,  play,  sport,  frolic,  trifle. 
Trace,  derive,  deduce,  follow,  pursue,  track. 
Track,  way,  road,  path,  mark,  trace,  footprint. 
Tract,  district,  region,  quarter,  plot,  essay. 
Tractable,  docile,  manageable,  amenable. 
Traditional,  oral,  uncertain,  transmitted. 


Traffic,  trade,  exchange,  commerce,  intercourse. 
Tragic,  fatal,  calamitous,  mournful,  sorrowful. 
Trait,  characteristic,  line,  feature. 
Tranquil,  still,  unruffled,  peaceful,  quiet. 
Transact,  perform,  conduct,  manage,  treat. 
Transaction,  negotiation,  occurrence,  affair. 
Transcend,  surmount,  overstep,  exceed,  excel. 
Transcribe,  copy,  transfer. 
Transfer,  make  over,  convey,  remove,  copy. 
Transform,  change,  metamorphose,  transfigure. 
Transgress,  pass,  exceed,  violate,  infringe. 
Transgressor,  offender,  sinner. 
Transition,  change,  shifting,  variation. 
Transparent,  clear,  limpid,  lucid,  obvious. 
Transport,  bliss,  ecstasy,  rapture,  carriage. 
Transpose,  change,  reverse,  shift. 
Trap,  snare,  ambush,  stratagem,  pitfall. 
Trash,  nonsense,  twaddle,  trifles,  dross. 
Traverse,  cross,  pass,  thwart,  obstruct. 
Treason,  treachery,  disloyalty,  disaffection. 
Treasure,  riches,  wealth,  stock,  store,  reserve. 
Treatise,  essay,  pamphlet,  brochure,  tract. 
Treaty,  convention,  negotiation,  agreement. 
Tremble,  quake,  shake,  quiver,  shudder,  totter. 
Tremendous,  awful,  fearful,  frightful,  terrible. 
Tremulous,  trembling,  jarring,  quivering-. 
Trench,  s.  drain,  sewer,  ditch,  fosse,  moat. 
Trench,  v.  encroach,  infringe,  invade. 
Trenchant,  cutting,  sharp,  severe,  sarcastic. 
Trend,  incline,  diverge,  bend,  tend,  stretch. 
Trespass,  violation,  infringement,  transgression. 
Tribulation,  affliction,  grief,  distress,  trouble. 
Trick,  fraud,  cheat,  artifice,  stratagem,  guile. 
Trifle,  s.  bauble,  toy,  geegaw,  kickshaw. 
Trifle,  v.  toy,  play,  dally,  wanton. 
Trim,  compact,  snug,  neat,  nice,  tidy,  clean. 
Trite,  stale,  old,  ordinary,  commonplace. 
Triumphant,  elated,  victorious,  exultant. 
Troop,  assemblage,  multitude,  gang,  band. 
Troublous,  trying,  troublesome,  agitated. 
Truant,  idling,  loitering,  vagabond,  shirking. 
Truce,  armistice,  rest,  cessation. 
Truck,  genuine,  actual,  sincere,  unaffected. 
Truly,  sincerely,  surely,  unfailingly. 
Trumpery,  trivial,  worthless,  tawdry. 
Trunk,  stem,  stalk,  body,  proboscis,  chest,  box* 
Trusty,  faithful,  reliable,  strong,  firm. 
Truth,  fact,  reality,  veracity,  verity,  fidelity. 
Trying,  experimental,  testing,  proving. 
Tug,  haul,  pull,  draw,  drag,  struggle,  strive. 
Tumble,  fall,  topple,  drop,  rumple,  disturb. 
Tumult,  ferment,  outbreak,  brawl,  fray,  riot. 
Tune,  tone,  air,  melody,  strain. 
Turf,  clod,  sward,  peat,  sod,  horse-racing. 
Turncoat,  renegade,  trimmer,  deserter. 
Turpitude,  depravity,  vileness,  baseness. 
Tutor,  teacher,  preceptor,  instructor,  guardian- 
Twirl,  turn,  whirl,  revolve,  wind. 
Twit,  taunt,  mock,  jeer,  jibe,  sneer,  scoff. 
Tyrannical,  cruel,  severe,  absolute,  arbitrary. 
Tyrant,  despot,  autocrat,  oppressor,  persecutor. 

ULTERIOR,  farther,  more,  distant,  beyond. 
Ultimate,  farthest,  last,  latest,  final,  eventual. 
Umbrage,  offence,  dissatisfaction,  displeasure. 
Umpire,  referee,  arbitrator,  judge,  arbiter. 
Unanimity,  accord,  agreement,  unity,  concord. 
Unadvised,  thoughtless,  indiscreet,  imprudent. 
Unanimous,  agreeing,  like-minded. 
Unbind,  loosen,  untie,  unfasten,  set-free. 


592 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Unblemished,  pure,  spotless,  unspotted. 
Unbounded,  boundless,  excessive,  infinite. 
Unbridled,  wanton,  licentious,  dissolute,  loose. 
Unceasing,  endless,  continual,  continuous. 
Unclean,  dirty,  foul,  filthy,  sullied. 
Unconcerned,  careless,  indifferent,  apathetic. 
Uncouth,  strange,  odd,  clumsy,  ungainly. 
Uncover,  reveal,  strip,  expose,  lay  bare,  divest. 
Under,  below,  underneath,  beneath,  lower. 
Undergo,  bear,  suffer,  endure,  experience. 
Understand,  know,  comprehend,  apprehend. 
Undertake,  engage  in,  embark  in,  promise. 
Unfounded,  false,  groundless,  baseless. 
Unfriendly,  inhospitable,  ungenial,  unkind. 
Ungainly,  clumsy,  awkward,  lumbering. 
Unhappiness,  misery,  wretchedness,  distress. 
Uninterrupted,  continuous,  perpetual,  endless. 
Unique,  unequalled,  uncommon,  rare,  choice, 
Unite,  join,  conjoin,  combine,  connect,  add. 
Unison,  harmony,  concord,  agreement,  union. 
Unity,  oneness,  concord,  uniformity. 
Universal,  general,  all,  entire,  total,  catholic. 
Unreasonable,  foolish,  silly,  absurd,  ridiculous. 
Unrighteous,  wrongful,  unjust,  unfair. 
Unrivalled,  unequalled,  unique,  'jnexampled. 
Unroll,  unfold,  open,  discover. 
Unruly,  ungovernable,  unmanageable. 
Unseen,  invisible,  unnoticed,  unperceived. 
Unsettle,  disturb,  derange,  displace,  ruffle. 
Untruth,  lie,  falsehood,  fib,  fiction,  fabrication. 
Unusual,  rare,  unwonted,  singular,  uncommon. 
Uphold,  maintain,  defend,  sustain,  support. 
Uproar,  tumult,  row,  riot,  disturbance,  brawl. 
Upset,  overturn,  overthrow,  overbalance. 
Usage,  custom,  fashion,  practice,  prescription. 
Use,  employ,  exercise,  occupy,  practice,  inure. 
Useless,  unserviceable,  fruitless,  idle,  profitless. 
Usurp,  arrogate,  seize,  appropriate,  assume. 
Utility,  benefit,  advantage,  profit,  service. 
Utmost,  farthest,  remotest,  uttermost,  greatest. 
Utter,  a.  extreme,  excessive,  sheer,  mere,  pure. 
Utter,  v.  speak,  articulate,  pronounce,  express. 

VACANCY,  chasm,  hollow,  cavity,  opening. 
Vacant,  empty,  unfilled,  unoccupied. 
Vagrant,  wanderer,  beggar,  tramp,  vagabond. 
Vain,  useless,  fruitless,  empty,  worthless. 
Valiant,  brave,  bold,  valorous,  courageous. 
Valor,  courage,  gallantry,  boldness,  bravery. 
Valuable,  precious,  costly,  dear,  expensive* 
Vanish,  disappear,  fade,  melt,  dissolve. 
Vanity,  emptiness,  conceit,  self-conceit. 
Vanquish,  defeat,  conquer,  subdue,  surmount. 
Vapid,  dull,  flat,  insipid,  stale,  tame. 
Vapor,  fume,  smoke,  mist,  fog,  steam. 
Variation,  change,  alteration,  diversity. 
Variance,  disagreement,  dissension,  jarring. 
Vaunt,  boast,  bray,  puff,  hawk,  advertise. 
Veil,  .y.  mask,  visor,  cloak,  blind,  screen,  shade. 
Veil,  v.  screen,  hide,  intercept,  mask,  conceal. 
Velocity,  swiftness,  quickness,  fleetness,  speed. 
Vend,  sell,  retail,  dispose  of,  hawk. 
Venerable,  grave,  sage,  wise,  old,  reverend. 
Venom,  poison,  virus,  spite,  malice,  malignity. 
Vent,  opening,  touch-hole,  outlet,  utterance. 
Venture,  dare,  adventure,  risk,  jeopardize. 
Venturous,  venturesome,  intrepid,  daring,  rash. 
Veracity,  tru<-h,  truthfulness,  credibility. 
Verbal,  ora'    ^poken,  literal,  parole,  unwritten. 
Verdict  'udgment,  finding,  decision,  answer. 


Versed,  skilled,  practiced,  conversant,  clever. 
Version,  interpretation,  reading,  rendering. 
Vex,  provoke,  tease,  torment,  harass,  plague. 
Vibrate,  oscillate,  swing,  sway,  wave,  thrill. 
Victim,  sacrifice,  food,  prey,  sufferer,  dupe. 
Victuals,  viands,  bread,  meat,  provisions,  fare. 
View,  thought,  notion,  sentiment,  opinion,  end. 
Vigorous,  healthy,  strong,  powerful,  energetic. 
Villainous,  base,  mean,  vile,  depraved,  knavish. 
Vindicate,  justify,  assert,  uphold,  support. 
Vindictive,  spiteful,  resentful,  revengeful. 
Virgin,  maid,  maiden,  girl,  damsel. 
Virtuous,  just,  upright,  moral,  chaste,  pure. 
Vision,  sight,  ghost,  apparition,  phantom. 
Vital,  living,  necessary,  essential,  indispensable. 
Vivacious,  lively,  brisk,  gay,  merry,  racy. 
Vivid,  lively,  clear,  lucid,  bright,  sunny. 
Vogue,  usage,  way,  custom,  fashion,  practice. 
Volume,  book,  scroll,  bulk,  size,  capacity. 
Voluntary,  free,  spontaneous,  unconstrained. 
Vouch,  attest,  assure,  warrant. 
Vulgar,  common,  general,  popular,  ordinary. 
Vulnerable,  assailable,  weak,  exposed,  tender. 

WAFT,  transport,  bear,  convey. 
Wage,  make,  carry  on,  engage  in,  undertake. 
Waggish,  frolicsome,  funny,  jocular,  sportive. 
Waive,  forego,  relinquish,  let  go. 
Wake,  waken,  awaken,  arouse,  stir  up,  excite. 
Wakeful,  wary,  sleepless,  watchful,  vigilant. 
Wander,  stroll,  ramble,  gad,  rove,  roam,  urge. 
Wandering,  vagrant,  roving,  strolling. 
Warlike,  bellicose,  martial,  military. 
Ward,  avert,  parry,  fend,  repel,  turn  aside. 
Warm,  affectionate,  attached,  devoted,  ardent. 
Warning,  notice,  caution,  admonition. 
Warrant,  guarantee,  insure,  assure,  secure. 
Wary,  careful,  cautious,  circumspect,  prudent. 
Wash,  clean,  rinse,  wet,  moisten,  stain,  tint. 
Watchful,  alert,  vigilant,  attentive,  cautious. 
Waver,  hesitate,  scruple,  fluctuate,  vacillate. 
Wavering,  unsteady,  unsettled,  fluctuating. 
Way,  method,  plan,  system,  means,  manner. 
Wayward,  froward,  obstinate,  stubborn,  unruly. 
Weak,  feeble,  infirm,  enfeebled,  debilitated. 
Weaken,  enfeeble,  debilitate,  unnerve,  dilute. 
Weakness,  feebleness,  infirmity,  frailty,  defect. 
Weal,  prosperity,  welfare,  advantage,  well-being. 
Wealth,  riches,  opulence,  affluence,  plenty. 
Wear,  bear,  carry,  last,  consume. 
Wearied,  worn,  tired,  fagged,  fatigued. 
Wearisome,  tiresome,  toilsome,  laborious. 
Wedding,  marriage,  nuptials,  espousals. 
Weep,  bewail,  deplore,  bemoan,  grieve,  moan. 
Weight,  heaviness,  pressure,  oppression,  loaa. 
Wheedle,  coax,  cajole,  flatter,  entice,  decoy. 
Whereas,  seeing,  since,  inasmuch  as. 
Whet,  sharpen,  incite,  excite,  provoke. 
Whirl,  turn,  revolve,  rotate,  wheel,  veer,  spin* 
Wholesome,  nutritious,  healthy,  salubrious. 
Wide,  broad,  ample,  large,  expanded,  diffuse. 
Wilfui,  perverse,  stubborn,  self-willed. 
Wilfully,  designedly,  purposely,  intentionally. 
Willingly,  involuntarily,  spontaneously. 
Wing,  fly,  mount,  ascend,  soar,  tower. 
Wisdom,  sense,  knowledge,  learning,  prudences 
Wish,  desire,  long  for,  yearn,  hanker,  covet. 
Withstand,  oppose,  resist,  thwirt,  confront. 
Wizard,  juggler,  magician,  conjurer,  sorcerer. 
Woe,  distress,  sorrow,  affliction,  disaster. 


SYNONYMS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


591 


Work,  labor,  toil,  drudge,  strive,  exert,  ply. 
Workmanship,  handiwork,  handicraft. 
Worry,  plague,  tease,  torment,  vex,  annoy. 
Worth,  price,  value,  rate,  desert,  merit,  virtue. 
Worthless,  useless,  valueless,  frivolous,  corrupt. 
Wrap,  muffle,  envelop,  fold,  encase. 
Wretchedness,  misery,  woe,  distress. 
Wring,  twist,  wrench,  wrest,  distort,  squeeze. 
Writer,  scribe,  penman,  author,  scribbler. 
Wrong,  abuse,  injure,  maltreat,  oppress. 


Wrongful,  unjust,  unfair,  dishonest,  iniquitous- 
Wry,  distorted,  awry,  crooked. 

YEARN,  hanker  after,  long  for,  desire,  crave- 
Yearly,  annually,  year  by  year,  per  annum. 
Youth,  boy,  lad,  minority,  adolescence. 
Youthful,  young,  juvenile,  boyish,  girlish 

ZEAL,  energy,  fervor,  ardor,  earnestness. 
Zest,  relish,  gusto,  flavor. 


38 


CHAPTER  L. 

Foreign  Words  and  Phrases  in  Common  Use. 


LATIN  WORDS  AND  PHRASES. 


&b  initio :  from  the  beginning. 

Ad  captandum  vulgus :  to  catch  the  rabble. 

Ad  infinitum :  to  infinity,  without  end. 

Ad  interim :  in  the  mean  time. 

Ad  libitum  :  at  pleasure. 

Ad  referendum  :  for  further  consideration. 

Ad  valorem  :  in  proportion  to  the  value. 

.5Jquo  animo :  with  an  unruffled  mind. 

A  fortiori :  with  stronger  reason. 

Alias:  otherwise;  as,  "Jones  alias  Brown." 

Alibi :  elsewhere. 

Alma  mater:  a  benign  mother;  applied  generally  to 

the  University. 

A  mensa  et  thoro :  divorced  from  bed  and  board. 
Amor  patrise :  the  love  of  our  country. 
Anglice :  in  English. 

Anno  Domini :  [A.D.]  in  the  year  of  our  Lord. 
Anno  Mundi :  [A.M.]  in  the  year  of  the  world. 
Annus  Mirabilis :  the  year  of  wonders. — A  poem  of 

Dryden's,  so  called  in  commemoration  of  the  great 

fire  of  London. 

A  posteriori :  from  the  effect  to  the  cause. 
A  priori :  from  the  cause  to  the  effect. 
Arcanum :  a  secret. 
Arcana  imperil :  state  secrets. 
jVrgumentum  ad  hominem  :  an  appeal  to  the  professed 

principles  or  practices  of  the  adversary. 
Argumentuin  ad  judicium :  an  appeal  to  the  common- 
sense  of  mankind. 

Argumentum  ad  fidem :  an  appeal  to  our  faith. 
Argumentum  ad  populum :  an  appeal  to  the  people. 
Argumentum  ad  passiones :  an  appeal  to  the  passion. 
Audi  alteram  partem :  hear  the  other  party. 
Bona  fide  :  in  good  faith;  in  reality. 
Cacoethes  scribendi,  loquendi :  an  itch  for  writing  ;  for 

talking. 

Capias :  a  writ  to  authorize  the  seizure  of  the  defend- 
,     ant's  person. 

Caput  mortuum :  the  worthless  remains. 
Certiorari  :  to  be  made  more  certain. 
Ceteris  paribus :  other  circumstances  being  equal. 
Commune  bonum  :  a  common  good. 
Compos  mentis :  in  one's  senses;  a  man  of  sane  mind. 
Contra:  against. 

Contra  bonos  mores  :  against  good  morals  or  manners. 
Cui  bono  ?    Cui  malo  ?  to  what  good — to  what  evil  will 

it  tend? 

$94 


Cum  privilegio :  wiih  privilege,  with  peculiar  privilege, 

Currente  calamo :  with  a  running  pen  :  -with  great 
rapidity. 

Gustos  rotulorum :  the  keeper  of  the  rolls  and  record. 

Data :  things  given  or  granted* 

De  facto :  in  fact,  in  reality. 

De  jure :  in  right,  in  law. 

Dei  gratia :  by  the  grace  or  favor  of  God. 

De  mortuis  nil  nisi  bonum :  let  nothing  be  said  of  /Atf 
dead  but  what  is  favorable. 

Deo  favente— juvante — volente :  with  God's  favor"  - 
help — will. 

Desideratum :  a  thing  desired. 

Desunt  cetera  :  the  remainder  is  wanting. 

Dies  faustus :  a  lucky  day — dies  infaustus,  an  unlucky 
day. 

Domine,  dirige  nos :  O  Lord,  direct  us. 

dramatis  personse :  the  characters  of  the  drama,  or » th± 
characters  represented. 

Durante  vita :  during  life. 

Durante  placito :  during  pleasure. 

Ecce  homo :  behold  the  man. 

Ergo:  therefore. 

Esto  perpetua :  let  it  be  perpetual. 

Errata:  errors — erratum,  an  error. 

Et  cetera :  and  the  rest,  and  so  on. 

Excerpta :  extracts. 

Exempli  gratia :  by  way  of  example  :  [contracted,  E.g,^ 

and  Ex.  gr.~\ 

Ex  officio :  by  virtue  of  his  office. 

Ex  parte  :  on  one  side;  an  "ex  parte"  statement,  that 
is,  a  one-sided  statement. 

Ex  tempore,  or,  as  an  English  word,  extempore  :  with* 
out  premeditation,  without  previous  study. 

Fac  simile,  or,  as  an  English  word,  facsimile :  an  en 
graved  or  lithographed  resemblance  of  hand-writing . 

Fas  est  et  ab  hoste  doceri :  it  is  allowable  to  derive  in 
struction  even  from  an  enemy. 

Felo  de  se :  a  suicide :  in  law  applied  to  one  who  is 
supposed  to  have  killed  himself  when  in  a  sound 
state  of  mind. 

Fiat :  let  it  be  done. 

Fiat  justitia,  ruat  coelum:  let  justice  be  done,  though 
the  heavens  should  fall. 

Filius  nullius :  an  illegitimate  son,  the  son  of  nobody. 

Flagraute  bello :  during  hostilities. 

Gratis :  for  nothing,  gratuitously. 


FOREIGN  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  IN  COMMON  USE. 


59$ 


Hlnc  illae  lacrimae  :  hence  proceed  those  tears. 

Hora  fugit:  time  flies,  or  the  hour  flies. 

Homo  sum ;  humani  nihil  a  me  alienum  puto :  /  ant  a 
man,  and  deem  nothing  that  relates  to  mankind^ 
foreign  to  my  feelings. 

Hortus  siccus  :  a  collection  of  the  leaves  of  plants  in  a 
dried  state. 

Humanum  est  errare :  to  err  is  human. 

Ibidem  :  in  the  same  place  ;  [contracted,  ibid.] 

Idem :  the  same. 

Id  est:  that  is  :  [contracted,  i.  e."\ 

Id  genus  omne :  all  persons  of  that  description. 

Ignis  fatuus :  the  meteor,  or  electrical  phenomenon 
called  "  Will-o'-the-wisp:'' 

Ignoramus :  a  conceited  ignorant  pretender  to  knowl 
edge  or  learning. 

la  loco:  in  this  place. 

Imprimatur:  let  it  be  printed. 

Imprimis:  in  the flrst place. 

Impromptu :  without  study. 

In  commendam :  in  trust. 

In  terrorem :  as  a  warning. 

In  propria  persona :  in  person. 

In  statu  quo :  in  the  former  state:  just  as  was. 

In  forma  pauperis :  as  a  poor  man. 

In  foro  conscientise :  before  the  tribunal  of  conscience. 

In  re :  in  the  matter  of. 

Index  expurgatorius :  a  purifying  index. 

Iniquissimam  pacem  justissimo  bello  antefero :  I  prefer 
the  most  disadvantageous  peace  to  the  justest  war. 
[The  favorite  maxim  of  Fox.] 

Innuendo :  an  oblique  hint  or  insinuation. 

Intransitu:  in  passing. 

Inter  nos :  between  ourselves. 

Invita  Minerva :  without  the  aid  of  genius. 

Ipse  dixit :  on  his  sole  assertion  ;  he  himself  said  it. 

Ipso  facto :  by  the  act  itself. 

Ipso  jure :  by  the  law  itself. 

Item:  also. 

^udex  damnatur  cum  nocens  absolvitur :  the  judge  is 
condemned  [or  blamed]  when  a  guilty  man  is  ac 
quitted,  or  suffered  to  escape. 

Jure  divino :  by  divine  law. 

Jure  humano :  by  human  law. 

Jus  civile :  by  the  civil  law. 

Jus  gentium :  the  law  of  nations. 

Labor  omnia  vinc.it :  labor  surmounts  every  difficulty. 
\  Lapsus  linguae :  a  slip  of  the  tongue. 

Laudari  a  viro  laudato :  to  be  praised  by  a  man  who  is 
himself  the  object  of  praise. 

Laudator  teuiporis  acti :  a  praiser  of  past  times. 

Lex  non  scripta  :  the  common  law. 

Lex  scripta :  the  statute  law. 

Lex  terrae :  the  law  of  the  land. 

I4centia  vatum  :  a  poetical  license- 


Litera  scripta  manet :  what  you  have  written  **main. 

in  black  and  white. 

Locum  tenens :  a  deputy,  a  substitute. 
Locus  sigilli  [L.  S  ]  :  the  place  of  the  seal. 
Magna  Charta :  The  Great  Charter,  THE  BASIS  op  OUR 

I.AWS  AND  LIBERTIES. 

Magni  nominis  umbra:  the  shadow  of  a  great  name. 
Mandamus :  a  royal  order  or  command. 
Medio  tutissimus  ibis :  you  will  act  wisely  by  steering  & 

middle  course. 

Memento  mori :  remember  that  you  are  to  die. 
Memorabilia :  matters  deserving  of  record  or  rewetn- 

brance. 
Mens  sibi  conscia  recti :  a  mind  conscious  to  ttself  qf 

rectitude. 

Meum  et  tuum  :  mine  and  thine. 
Minutiae :  trifles,  minute  parts. 
Mirabile  dictu :  wonderful  to  tell. 
Mittimus :  a  writ  to  commit  an  offender  to  prison. 
Multum  in  parvo :  much  in  little — a,  great  deal  in  A 

few  words. 

Mutatis  mutandis :  after  making  the  necessary  changes,. 
Necessitas  non  habet  legem  :  necessity  has  no  law. 
Nem.  con. :   Abbreviation  for  nemine  contradicente* 

Nem,  dis. :  Abbreviation  for  nemine  dissentiente  : 

WITHOUT  OPPOSITION.    The  former  is  used  in  the 

House  of  Commons ;   the  latter  in  the  House  <rf 

Peers,  to  express  concurrence. 
Nemo  me  impune  lacessit :  no  one  shall  injure  vne  with 

impunity. 

Nemo  mortalium  omnibus  horis  sapit :  no  one  is  wist 

ai  all  times. 
Nemo  repeute  fuit  turpissimus :  no  one  ever  becantt 

notoriously  vicious  all  at  once. 
Ne  plus  ultra :  nothing  beyond,  the  utmost  point. 
Ne  quid  nimis:  to    much  of  one  thing  is  good  Jot 

.wt king. 
Ne  sutor  ultra  crepidam :  let  not  the  shoemaker  go 

beyond  his  last,  or,  meddle  with  what  he  does  not 

understand. 
Nil  conscire  sibi,  nulla  pallescere  culpa :  to  be  conscious 

of  no  crime,  and  to  turn  pale  at  no  accusation. 
Nisi  Domiuus  frustra :  unless  the  Lord  be  with  us,  all 

our  efforts  will  be  in  vain. 
Nolle  prosequi :  to  be  unwilling  tc  proceed. — This  is 

used  when  a  plaintiff,  having  commenced  an  action, 

declines  to  proceed  therein. 
Non  assumpsit :  He  did  not  assume. — A  plea  in  personal 

actions,  when  the  defendant  denies  that  any  promist 

was  made. 

Non  constat :  it  does  not  appear. 
Non  compos  mentis :  not  in  one's  senses,  not  of  a  sound 

mind. 
Non  obstante :  notwithstanding ;  a  dispensing  potf** 

in  patents. 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Nou  omnia  possumus  omnes :  we  cannot  all  of  us  do 

everything. 

Non  sequitur :  it  does  not  follow  as  a  matter  of  course. 
Nolens  volens :  willing  or  unwilling. 
Noscitur  ex  sociis :  he  is  known  by  his  companions. 
Nota  bene  [N.  B.]  :  mark  well,  take  particular  notice. 
Nunquam  non  paratus :  always  ready. 
Obiter  dictum :  a  thing  said  by  the  way,  or,  in  %>:•;  ,sing. 
Onus  probandi :  the  weight  of  proof  ,  the  burden  of 

proving. 

Opprobrium  medicorum :  the  reproach  of  the  faculty. 
Omnes:  all. 
O  t  si  sic  omnia :  Oh !  that  he  had  always  done,  or, 

spoken  thus. 

O  tempora,  O  mores !    O  the  time  and  the  manners  ! 
Otium  cum  dignitate :  ease  with  dignity. 
Otium  sine  dignitate :  ease  without  dignity. 
Par  nobile  fratrum  [said  ironically] :  a  noble  pair  of 

brothers. 

Particeps  criminis :  an  accomplice. 
Passim :  everywhere. 
Peccavi:  I  have  sinned. 

Pendente  lite :  while  the  suit,  or  contest,  is  pending* 
Per  fas  et  nefas :  through  right  and  wrong. 
Per  saltum :  by  a  leap. 
Perse:  by  itself. 
Poeta  nascitur,  non  fit :  Nature  and  not  study,  must 

form  a  poet. 

Posse  comitatus :  the  power  of  the  county. 
Postulata :  things  required. 

Praemonitus,  prsemunitus:  forewarned ,  forearmed. 
Prsemunire :    a  writ  issued   against   individuals  who 

hold  illegal  communication  with  the  see  of  Rome. 
Prima  facie :  on  the  first  view,  or  appearance;  atjirst 

sight. 

Primum  mobile :  the  main  spring,  the  first  impulse. 
Principiis  obsta :  oppose  the  first  appearance  of  evil. 
Prt  aris  et  focis :  for  our  altars  and  firesides. 
Prc  bono  publico:  for  the  public  good. 
Pro  and  con :  for  and  against. 
Pro  hac  vice :  for  this  turn. 
Pro  loco  et  tempore :  for  the  place  and  time. 
Pro  re  nata  :  for  a  special  business:  as  occasion  serves. 
Pro  salute  animse  :  for  the  health  of  the  soul. 
Pro  rege,  lege,  et  grege  :  for  the  king,  the  constitution, 

and  the  people. 
**ro  tempore  :  for  the  time. 
Punica  fides :  Carthaginian  faith — treachery. 
Quantum :  how  much. 
Quantum  mutatus  ab  illo !   How  changed  from  what 

he  once  was! 

Quidnunc?  what  now  f  [applied  to  a  news-hunter. ~\ 
Quid  pro  quo  :  tit  for  tat. 
Quoad  hoc  :  to  this  extent. 

Quoanimo?  with  what  purpose,  mind,  or  intention  f 
Quo  jure  :  by  what  right. 


Quoad :  as  far  as. 

Quod  erat  demonstrandum :  which  was  meant  to  /* 

shown,  or  demonstrated. 
Quondam :  formerly. 

Quorum  :  of  whom  ;  one  of  the  quorum.     This  des 
cription  of  a  justice  of  the  peace  is  taken  from  the 

words  of  his  "  dedimus." 
Quo  warranto  ?  by  what  warrant?  A  writ  lying  against 

the  person,  who  has  usurped  any  franchise  or  liberty 

against  the  king  or  state. 
Rara  avis :  a  rare  bird,  a  prodigy. 
Re  infecta :  without  attaining  his  end. 
Requiescat  in  pace !  may  he  rest  in  peace! 
Res  angusta  dorni :  straitened  circumstances  in  family 

matters,  in  the  domestic  economy. 
Respice  finem :  look  to  the  end. 
Respublica :  the  commonwealth. 
Resurgam  :  I  shall  rise  again. 
Rex :  a  king. 
Regina :  a  queen. 

Senatus  consultum  :  a  decree  of  the  senate. 
Seriatim :  in  order. 

Sic  itur  ad  astra :  such  is  the  way  to  immortality. 
Sic  passim :  so  everywhere. 
Sic  transit  gloria  mundi :  thus  passes  away  the  glory  of 

the  world. 
Sine  die :  without  specifying  any  particular  day,  to  an 

indefinite  time. 

Sine  qua  non :  an  indispensable  condition. 
Stat  magni  nominis  umbra :  he  stands  under  the  sAa- 

dow  of  a  mighty  name,  or,  he  stands  shaded  by  a 

mighty  name. 

Sua  cuique  voluptas  :  every  one  has  his  own  pleasures. 
Suaviter  in  modo,  fortiter  in  re  :  gentle  in  [the]  man 
ner, but  vigorous  in  [the]  deed,  or,  vigorous  in  action. 
Sub  prena:  under  a  penalty. 
Sub  silentio :  in  silence. 
Sui  generis  :  of  its  own  kind. 
Summum  bonum  :  the  chief  good. 
Summum  jus,  summa  injuria:  extreme  taw  is  extreme 

injustice. 

Supersedeas :  a  writ  to  stay  proceedings. 
Suppressio  veri :  a  suppression  of  the  truth. 
Supra:  above. 

Suum  cuique :  let  every  man  have  his  own. 
Taedium  vitse  :  weariness  of  lift 
Tempora  mutantur :  the  times  are  changed. 
Toties  quoties  :  as  often  as. 
Toto  ccelo :  by  the  whole  heavens — as  opposite  03  iei* 

poles. 

Tria  juncta  in  uno :  three  joined  in  one. 
Ubi  supra :  where  above-mentioned. 
Una  voce :  with  one  voice,  unanimously. 
Ultimus  :  the  last  [contracted  #//.] 
Utile  dulci :  the  useful  with  the  agreeable. 
Uti  possidetis  :  as  you  possess,  or,  as  you  now  at*. 


FOREIGN  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  IN  COMMON  USE. 


597 


Vade  mecum  :  go  with  me — a  constant  companion, 
[usually  applied  to  a  publication  intended  for  the 
pocket.] 

Verbatim :  word  for  word. 

Versus :  against. 

Veni,  vidi,  vici :  I  came,  I  saw,  I  conquered.  [Ctesar's 
despatch  to  the  Roman  Senate.] 

Venire  facias  :  the  writ  for  summoning  a  jury. 

Venienti  occurrite  morbo :  meet  the  approaching  dis 
ease. 

Vale :  farewell. 

Via  :  by  the  way  ef. 

Vice :  in  the  room  of. 

Vice  versa :  the  terms  being  exchanged. 

Vide :  see  [contracted  into  v.~\ 

Vide  ut  supra :  see  as  above — see  the  preceding  state 
ment. 


Vi  et  armis :  by  main  force. 

Vincit  amor  patriae :  the  love  of  our  country  is  thk 
predominant  feeling. 

Vis  inertise :  a  property  of  matter. 

Vis  poetica :  poetic  genius. 

Viva  voce :  orally,  by  word  of  mouth  :  a  viva  voce  ex 
amination,  or,  an  oral  examination. 

Vivat  Regina !  long  live  the  Queen! 

Vivida  vis  animi :  the  lively  vigor  of  genius. 

Viz.:  [videlicit]  namely. 

Vox  et  praeterea  nihil :  a  voice  and  nothing  more. 

Vox  populi,  vox  Dei :  the  voice  of  the  people  is  th* 
voice  of  God. 

Vulgo:  commonly. 

Vultus  est  index  animi :  the  counlenc-w-e  is  th*  index, 
of  the  mind. 


FRENCH  WORDS  AND  PHRASES. 


Aide-de-camp  :  an  assistant  to  a  general. 

A  la  bonne  heure :  well  and  good,  very  well. — Arriver 
a  la  bonne  heure :  to  come  just  in  time,  at  the  right 
moment. 

Affaire  de  cosur :  a  love  affair. 

A  la  mode :  according  to  the  fashion,  in  fashion. 

A  propos  :  seasonably,  opportunely,  to  the  purpose. 

Au  fond  :  to  the  bottom,  or,  main  point,  after  all. 

A  fond :  thoroughly. 

Bagatelle :  a  trifle. 

Beau  monde :  persons  of  fashion,  the  world  of  fashion, 
the  fashionable  world. 

Bel-esprit :  a  man  of  wit.  The  plural  is  beaux  esprits  : 
men  of  wit. 

Bien  entendu :  of  course,  be  it  understood,  it  being 
understood. 

Billet  doux  :  a  love-letter. 

Bon  mot :  a  piece  of  wit,  a  witticism,  or,  witty  saying. 

Bon  ton ;  in  high  fashion,  in  good  taste. 

Bon  gre*  mal  gre"  :  willing  or  unwilling,  whether  one 
will  or  not. 

Bonjour:  good-day ;  good-morning. 

Bonsoir:  good-evening ;  good-night. 

Boudoir:  a  lady 's  small  private  apartment. 

Bref :  in  short. 

Carte  blanche :  unconditional  terms  :  power  to  au  ac 
cording  to  one's  own  discretion.  N.  B.  "Carte 
blanche"  literally  means  a  blank  card  or  ticket ;  a 
card  or  ticket  not  written  on. 

Chateau :  a  country  seat,  abode,  or,  residence. 

Chef  d'oeuvre :  a  master-piece. 

Ci-devant:  formerly:  my  ci-devant  preceptor,  that  is, 
my  former  preceptor. 

Comme  il  faut :  properly,  as  it  should  be. 

Conge  d'e"lire :  generally  used  in  reference  to  the  elec 
tion  of  a  bishop  or  dean :  permission  to  choose,  or, 
gleet. 


Coup  de  grace :  the  finishing  stroke. 

Coup  d'ceil :  a  glance. 

Coup  de  main :  a  sudden  or,  bold  enterbrl.se.  undertak 
ing. 

Coup  d'etat :  a  stroke  of  state  policy. 

De*but:  a  first  appearance  in  public-'  in  the  fashiona 
ble  world,  a  coming  out. 

De*pot :  a  storehouse. 

Douceur:  a  present,  in  return  for  a  situation,  or,  ap 
pointment,  procured  by  private  influence:  in  other 
words,  a  bribe.  N.  B.  The  word  is  used  in  FRANCE 
simply  to  mean  reward,  profit,  or,  gratuity. 

Dieu  et  mon  droit :  God  and  my  right. 

Eclat:  distinction,  applause. 

EleVe:  a  pupil. 

Enfin :  at  length — at  last. 

En  masse :  in  a  body,  or,  mass. 

En  passant:  by  the  way,  often  applied  to  „-.  _-2mark 
casually  made. 

Ennui :  wearisomeness,  lassitude,  inability  for  exer- 
tion. 

Faux  pas :  a  deviation  from  the  path  of  virtue,  an  acf 
of  indiscretion  :  literally,  a  false  step. 

Fete:  a  festival:  entertainment. 

Fracas :  a  fuss  about  a  trifle,  or,  a  mere  nothing,  6~ 
hubbub. 

Honi  soit  qui  mal  y  pense :  evil  be  to  him  that  evti 
thinks. 

Hauteur:  haughtiness:  a  ridiculous  affectation  of  pride 
and  reserve. 

Je  ne  saisquoi:  I  know  not  what:  an  expression  ap 
plied  to  something,  that  cannot  well  be  Described— 
that  baffles  description. 

Jeu  de  mots :  a  play  upon  words. 

Jeu  d' esprit:  a  display  of  wit :  a  witticism. 

Mal  a  propos :  unseasonable,  ill-timed,  out  of  place. 

Mauvaise  honte :  sheepishness,  extreme  bashfulnest. 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


Mot  du  guet :  IWot  de  passe  :  a  watchword. 

Naivet^ :  artlessness,  unstudied  simplicity ',  ingenuous 
ness,  innocence. 

Outr£:  outrageous;  out  of  all  reason,  or,  character: 
unreasonable,  preposterous.  N.  B.  The  word  is 
used  in  FRANCE,  simply  to  mean  exaggerated. 

Petit  maitre :  a  fop  :  a  coxcomb  :  a  puppy. 
(Brote'gd  :  one  who  is  patronized,  and  whose  interest  is 

\  promoted  by  a  person  of  rank.  N.  B.  The  femi 
nine  is  protegee. 

Rouge  :  red:  a  kind  of  paint,  sometimes  used  by  ladies 
for  painting  their  cheeks. 

Sans :  without. 

Sang-froid :  coolness,  indifference — "He  heard  the  news 
with  the  greatest  sang-froid^  that  is  to  say,  "he 
took  it  very  easily— •"  or,  he  listened  to  it  with  the 
greatest  composure. 


Savant:  a  learned  man:  a  man  of  science:  one  of  the 

literati,  that  is,  one  of  the  learned  world.     N.  B. 

The  plural  of  savant  is  savants,  learned  men ,  men 

of  science. 
Soi-disant;  self-styled;  a  pretender  to  knowledge  or 

rank;  as,  a  soi-disant  colonel:  a  soi-disant  mathe\ 

matician.      The  epithet  is  often  applied  to  literary 

quacks. 
Tapis:  carpet:  "the  affair  is  on  the/a/>w,"  that  is,  "the 

affair  is  in  agitation,  in  contemplation." 
Trait :  feature,  a  touch  of  character. 
Tete-a-tete :  a  private  conversation  between  two  per* 

sons. 
Unique:  "the book  is  unique,'1''  that  is,  "is  the  only 

one  in  existence." 
Valet-de-chambre :   a  man  who  attends  a  gentleman 

who  is  dressing  himself. 
Vive  le  roi  I  long  live  the  king  I 


xVxVxVxtxx+xx+xxixx+xxfxxfxxfxxfx^ 


XlXXi.XXi.XX|X  <iXX|XX|XXi>  XX»  4 


CHAPTER  U. 

Abbreviations  used  in  Writing  and  Printing. 


A.  or  Ans.  Answer. 

A.  A.   S.    Fellow  of  the  American 

Academy. 

A.  B.  Bachelor  of  Arts. 
Acct.  Account. 
A.  C.  or  B.  C.  Before  Christ. 
A.  D.  In  the  year  of  our  Lord. 

A.  M.  Master  of  Arts  ;  Before  noon  ; 

In  the  year  of  the  world. 
/£t.  Aged. 
Abp.  Archbishop. 
Agt.  Agent. 
Att'y.  Attorney. 
Bart.  Baronet. 
Bbl.   Barrel. 

B.  V.  Blessed  Virgin. 

C.  C.  P.  Court  of  Common  Pleas. 
Caps.  Capitals.    . 

Capt.  Captain. 

Cash.  Cashier. 

Cent,  or  C.  A  Hundred. 

Chap.  Chapter. 

Chron.  Chronicles. 

Cl.  or  Clk.  Clerk. 

Co.  Company  ;  County. 

Col.  Collector  ;  Colonel ;  Colossians. 

Coll.  College ;  Colleague. 

Com.  Commissioner  ;  Commodore. 

Const.  Constable. 

Con.  Contra ;  on  the  other  hand. 

Cor.  Corinthians. 

•Qor.  Sec.  Corresponding  Secretary. 

C.  O.  D.  Collect  on  Delivery. 

Cr.  Credit;  Creditor. 

C.  S.  Keeper  of  the  Seal. 
Cts.  Cents. 

Cur.  Current ;  this  month. 
Cwt.  A  hundred  weight. 
Cyc.  Cyclopaedia. 

D.  D.  Doctor  of  Divinity. 
Dan.  Daniel. 

Dea.  Deacon. 
Deg.  Degree. 
Dept.  Deputy. 
Deut.  Deuteronomy. 
Do.  or  Ditto.  The  same. 
Dr.  Debtor ;  Doctor. 

E.  East. 

Eccl.  Ecclesiastes. 

Ed.  Editor ;   Edition. 

E.  g.  For  example. 

Eng.  England ,  English, 

Ep.  Epistle. 

Eph.  Ephesians;  Ephraim. 

Esa.  Esaips. 

Esq.  Esquire. 

Etc.  Et  cetera  ;  and  so  forth. 

Ex.  Example  ;  Exodus. 

Exr.  Executor. 

Ez.  Ezra. 

Fr.  France;  Francis. 


Fahr.  Fahrenheit. 

F.  R.  S.  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society. 
Gal.  Galatians. 

Gen.  General ;  Genesis. 
Gent.  Gentleman. 
Gov.  Governor. 

G.  P.  O.  General  Post  Office. 
H.  B.  M.    His  or  Her  Britannic 

Majesty. 
Heb.  Hebrews. 
Hhd.   Hogshead. 
Hist.  History ;  Historical. 
Hon.  Honorable. 
H.  R.  House  of  Representatives. 
H.  S.  S.  Fellow  of  the  Historical 

Society. 

Hund.  Hundred. 
Ibid.  In  the  same  place. 
I.  e.  That  is  (id  est). 
Id.  The  same. 

I.  H.  S.  Jesus  the  Saviour  of  men. 
Inst.  Instant. 
Isa.  Isaiah. 
Jac.  Jacob. 
Jas.  James. 
Jer.  Jeremiah. 
Jno.  John. 
Josh.  Joshua. 
Judg.  Judges. 
Jun.  or  Jr.  Junior. 
K.  King;  Knight. 
K.  G.  Knight  of  the  Garter. 
Km.  Kingdom. 
Kt.  Knight. 
Lat.  Latitude ;  Latin. 
Lbs.  Pounds. 
Ld.  Lord ;  Lady. 
Ldp.  Lordship. 
Lev.  Leviticus. 
Lieut.  Lieutenant. 
LL.  D.  Doctor  of  Laws. 
Lon.  Longitude. 
L.  S.  Place  of  the  Seal. 
M.  Marquis. 
Maj.  Major. 
Matt.  Matthew. 
Math.  Mathematics. 
M.  C.  Member  of  Congress. 
M.  D.  Doctor  of  Medicine. 
Messrs.  Gentlemen ;  Sirs. 
M.  P.  Member  of  Parliament. 
Mr.  Master  ;  or  Mister. 
Mid.  Midshipman. 
Mrs.  Mistress. 
MS.  Manuscript. 
MSS.  Manuscripts. 
N.  North. 
N.  B.  Take  Notice. 
Neh.  Nehemiah. 
No.  Number. 
N.  S.  New  Style. 


Num.  Numbers. 

Obj.  Objection. 

Obt.  Obedient. 

O.  S.  Old  Style. 

P.  Page. 

Pp.  Pages. 

Parl.  Parliament. 

Per.  By  the     (as  per  yard; 

the  yard). 

Per  cwt.  By  the  hundred. 
Pet.  Peter. 

Phil.  Philip  ;  Philippians. 
Philom.  A  lover  of  learning. 
P.  M.  Post  Master ;  Afternoon. 
P.  O.  Post  Office. 
Pres.  President. 
Prin.  Principal. 
Prob.  Problem. 
Prof.  Professor. 
Prov.  Proverbs. 
P.  S.  Postscript. 
Ps.  Psalm. 

Pub.  Doc.  Public  Document. 
Q.  Queen  ;  Question. 
Qr.  Quarter. 
Q.  M.  Quarter  Master. 
Regr.  Register. 
Rep.  Representative. 
Rev.  Reverend ;  Revelation. 
Rom.  Romans. 
Rt.  Hon.  Right  Honorable. 
S.  Shilling;  South. 

5.  A.  South  America. 
Sam.  Samuel. 

Sch.  Schooner. 

Sec.  Secretary ;  Section. 

Sen.  Senator  ;  Senior. 

Serg.  Sergeant. 

Servt.  Servant. 

Ss.  Namely. 

St.  Saint;  Street. 

Supt.  Superintendent. 

Surg.  Surgeon. 

Switz.  Switzerland. 

Thess.  Thessalonians. 

Tho.  Thomas. 

Tim.  Timothy. 

Ult.  (Ultimo}.  The  Last. 

U.  S.  A.  United  States  Army. 

U.  S.  N.  United  States  Navy, 

V.  or  Vide.  See. 

Viz.  Namely. 

Vols.  Volumes. 

Vs.  (Versus).  Against. 

W.  West. 

W.  I.  West  Indies. 

Wp.  Worship. 

Yd.  Yard. 

Yr.  Year. 

6.  And. 

&c.  And  so  forth. 


59$ 


CHAPTER  I<\±. 


Conundrums. 


2.  Where  was  Humboldt  going  when  he  was  thirty- 

nine  years  old  ? 
a:  Which  is  the  most  ancient  of  the  trees  ? 

3.  Which  are  the  most  seasonable  clothes  ? 

4.  Why  are  lawyers  and  doctors  safe  people  by  whom 

to  take  example  ? 

5.  What  injury  did  the  Lavinia  of  Thomson's  "Sea 

sons  "  do  to  young  Palemon  ? 

6.  Why  are  wooden  ships   (as  compared  with  iron 

clads)  of  the  female  sex  ? 

7.  At  what  time  of  life  may  a  man  be  said  to  belong 

to  the  vegetable  kingdom  ? 

8.  Which  are  the  lightest  men — Scotchmen,  Irishmen 

or  Englishmen  ? 

9.  Which  are  the  two  hottest  letters  of  the  alphabet  ? 

10.  Why  is  cutting  off  an  elephant's  head  widely  diff 

erent  from  cutting  off  any  other  head  ? 

11.  Who  is  the  man  who  carries  everything  before 

him? 

12.  Which  are  the  two  kings  that  reign  in  America? 

13.  When  may  a  man's  pocket  be  empty  and  yet  have 

something  in  it? 

14.  Why  is  a  clock  the  most  modest  piece  of  furniture  ? 

15.  Why  is  U  the  gayest  letter  in  the  alphabet? 

16.  Why  are  corn  and  potatoes  like  Chinese  idols? 

17.  Which  is  the  merriest  sauce? 

18.  Why  is  a  cat  going  up  three  pairs  of  stairs  like  a 

high  hill  ? 

19.  Why  is  a  lead-pencil  like  a  perverse  child? 

20.  Why  is  a  horse  like  the  letter  O  ? 

21.  Why  are  penmakers  inciters  to  wrong-doing? 

22.  Why  should  we  never  sleep  in  a  railway  carriage? 

23.  When  is  a  boat  like  a  heap  of  snow? 

24.  What  'bus  has  found  room  for  the  greatest  number 

of  people  ? 

25.  Who  is  the  first  little  boy  mentioned  by  a  slang 

word  in  the  History  of  England? 

26.  Why  is  Macassar  oil  like  a  chief  of  the  Fenians  ? 

27.  Why  is  a  nabob  like  a  beggar? 

28.  What  sort  of  day  would  be  good  for  running  for  a 

cup? 

29.  What  is  the  difference  between  a  spendthrift  and 

a  feather  bed? 

30.  Is  there  any  bird  that  can  sing  the  "  Lays  of  An 

cient  Rome?" 

31.  What  have  you  to  expect  at  a  hotel? 
\2.  What  comes  after  cheese  ? 


33.  When  does  a  man  sit  down  to  a  melancholy  d«?»  , 

sert? 

34.  What  notes  compose  the  most  favorite  tunes,  and 

how  many  tunes  do  they  compose? 

35.  When  may  a  man  be  said  to  breakfast  before  he 

gets  up  ? 

36.  Why  is  a  hotel  waiter  like  a  race-horse? 

37.  When  is  the  soup  likely  to  run  out  of  ths  sauce 

pan? 

38.  What  is  that  word  of  five  letters,  of  which,  when 

you  take  away  two,  only  one  remains. 

39.  When  are  volunteers  not  volunteers  ? 

40.  Why  is  the  letter  B  like  a  fire-? 

41.  Why  is  the  letter  R  a  profitable  letter? 

42.  What  word  may  be  pronounced  quicker  by  adding 

a  syllable  to  it. 

43.  What  is  the  difference  between  a  dairymaid  and  a 

swallow  ? 

44.  Which  animal  has  the  most  property  to  carry  with 

him  when  he  travels,  and  which  two  have  the 
least? 

45.  How  many  sticks  go  to  the  building  of  a  crow's 

nest? 

46.  Why  was  Robit/son  Crusoe  not  alone  on  his  desert 

island  ? 

47.  Why  are  there  no  eggs  in  St.  Domingo  ? 

48.  What  is  invisible  blue  ? 

49.  Which  is  the  most  wonderful  animal  in  the  farm 

yard? 

50.  Which  peer  wears  the  largest  hat  ? 

51.  When  does  beer  become  eatable  ? 

52.  Why  is  a  patent  safety  Hansom  cab  a  dangerous 

carriage  to  drive  in  ? 

53.  Why  are  bakers  very  self-denying  people  ? 

54.  Why  is  whispering  in  company  like  a  forged  bank 

note  ? 

55.  Which  constellation  resembles  an  empty  fire-place? 

56.  What  is  the  last  remedy  for  a  smoky  chimney  ? 

57.  What  relation  is  that  child  to  its  father  who  is  not 

its  father's  own  son  ? 

58.  When  does  a  cow  become  real  estate  ? 

59.  Why  are  dissenters  like  spiders  ? 

60.  Why  did  Marcus  Curtius  leap  into   the  gulf  fa 

Rome? 

61.  Why  is  a  soldier  like  a  vine? 

62.  Which  is  heavier,  a  half  or  a  full  moon  ? 

63.  When  should  you  avoid  the  edge  of  the  river? 


600 


CONUNDRUMS. 


6oi 


64.  Why  must  a  fisherman  be  very  wealthy  ? 

65.  If  the  fender  and  fire-irons  cost  three  pounds,  what 

will  a  ton  of  coals  come  to  ? 

66.  Why  are  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  letters  of  the 

alphabet  of  more  importance  than  the  others? 

67.  What  is  the  way  to  make  your  coat  last  ? 

68.  Why  is  an  alligator  the  most  deceitful  of  animals  ? 

69.  Why  is  it  impossible  that  there  should  be  a  best 

horse  on  a  race-course  ? 

70.  Why  are  fowls  the  most  economical  creatures  that 

farmers  keep  ? 
yi.  When  may  a  ship  be  said  to  be  in  love  ? 

72.  What  relation  is  the  door-mat  to  the  scraper  ? 

73.  What   vegetable   most    resembles    little   Fanny's 

tongue  ? 

74.  Why  is  gooseberry  jam  like  counterfeit  money? 

75.  What  is  that  which  has  never  been  felt,  seen  nor 

heard — never  existed,  and  still  has  a  name  ? 

76.  Why  is  a  congreve-box  without  matches  superior 

to  all  other  boxes  ? 

77.  Why  is  a  postman  in  danger  of  losing  his  way  ? 

78.  What  is  that  which  comes  with  a  coach,  goes  with 

a  coach,  is  of  no  use  to  the  coach,  and  yet  the 
coach  can't  go  without  it  ? 

79.  What  three  letters  give  the  name  of  a  famous,  3.0- 

man  general? 

80.  Why  would  it  affront  an  owl  to  mistake  him  for  a 

pheasant  ? 

Si.  If  your  uncle's  sister  is  not  your  aunt,  what  rela 
tion  does  she  bear  to  you  ? 

82.  Of  what  profession  is  every  child  ? 

83.  Why  is  the  letter  i  in  Cicero  like  Arabia  ? 

84.  Why  is  troyweight  like  an  unconscientious person  ? 

85.  Why  is  chloroform  like  Mendelssohn  ? 

86.  When  is  a  sailor  not  a  sailor  ? 

87.  Why  does  a  duck  put  its  head  under  water  ? 

88.  What  wild  animals  may  be  correctly  shut  up  in 

the  same  enclosure  ? 

89.  What  makes  a  pair  of  boots  ? 

90.  Can  you  tell  me  why 
A  hypocrite  sly 

Is  the  man  who  best  knows 
Upon  how  many  toes 
A  pussy-cat  goes  ? 

91.  What  tree  is  of  the  greatest  importance  in  history  ? 

92.  Which  is  the  most  moral  food — cake  or  wine  ? 

93.  Why  is  a  good  resolution  like  a  fainting  lady  at  a 

ball? 

94.  Why  is  a  carpenter  like  a  languid  dandy? 

95.  When  does  a  donkey  weigh  least  ? 

96.  What  is  the  last  blow  a  defeated  ship  gives  in 

battle  ? 

97.  What  had  better  be  done  when  there  is  a  great 

rent  on  a  farm  ? 

98.  Why  is  an  uncomfortable  seat  like  comfort? 

99.  What  two  letters  do  boys  delight  in,  to  the  annoy 

ance  of  their  elders? 


100.  What  single  word  would  you  put  down  for  jfap 

borrowed  from  you? 

101.  When  is  ••*   iver  like  a  young  lady's  letter  ? 

102.  W  i  is  the*  Bank  of  England  like  a  thrush? 
ioi-  v  ov  wouia  a  pelican  make  a  good  lawyer? 

104.  Describe  a  suit  ot  old  clothes  in  two  letters. 

105.  Which  is  the  proper  newspaper  for  invalids? 

106.  What  American  poet  may  be  considered  equal  to 

three-filtix  of  the  poets,  ancient  and  modern? 

107.  What  preci:-us  stc'ie  is  like  the  entrance  to  afield? 

108.  When  is  a  m~a  .u;2  frozen  rain  ? 

109.  Which  of  the  stars  should  be  subject  to  the  game- 

laws? 

no.  What  garden  crop  would  save  draining? 
in.  When  does  a  cook  break  the  game-laws? 

112.  Spell  an  interrogation  with  one  letter, 

113.  When  is  a  bill  not  a  bill? 

1 14    What  pen  ought  never  to  be  used  for  writing? 

115.  When  is  a  subject  beneath  one's  notice? 

116.  Why  is  a  loyal  gentleman  like  a  miser? 

117.  Why  is  the  letter  W  like  the  Queen's  ladies? 

118.  What  tune  makes  everybody  glad? 

119.  Why  are  Dover  cliffs  like  the  letter  D  ? 

120.  When  is  a  straight  field  not  a  straight  field? 

121.  Why  is  a  fish-hook  like  the  letter  F? 

122.  What  letter  is  that  which  is  in-visible,  but  nevtt 

out  of  sight  ? 

123.  How  would  you  express  in  two  letters  that  you 

were  twice  the  bulk  of  your  companions? 

124.  Why  is  attar  of  roses  never  moved  without  orders? 

125.  If  the  Greeks  had  pushed  Pan  into  the  Bay  of 

Salamis,  what  would  he  have  been  when  he  came 
out? 

126.  When  is  a  lady's  arm  not  a  lady's  arm  ? 

127.  What  is  that  which  occurs  once  in  a  minute, 

twice  in  a  moment,  and  not  once  in  a  hundred 
years  ? 

128.  What  is  an  old  lady  in  the  middle  of  a  river  Hke? 

129.  When  is  a  fish  above  its  station  ? 

130.  When  do  we  witness  cannibalism  in  England? 

131.  When  is  a  boy  not  a  boy  ? 

132.  When  is  a  piece  of  wood  like  a  queen  ? 

133.  When  is  a  skein  of  thread  like  the  root  of  an  oak? 

134.  What  is  that  which  has  a  mouth  but  never  speaks, 

and  a  bed  but  never  sleeps  in  it  ? 

135.  What  word  contains  all  the  vowels  in  their  proper 

order  ? 

136.  What  letter  used  to  be  distributed  at  tourn-unentsf 

137.  Why  is  a  carriage  going  down  a  steep  hill  like  St 

George  ? 

138.  Why  is  I  the  happiest  of  all  the  vowels? 

139.  Why  should  you  never  employ  a  tailor  who  does 

not  understand  his  trade  ? 

140.  Why  are  your  eyes  like  friends  separated  by  di» 

tant  climes? 

141.  Why  is  a  bad-tempered  horse  the  best  hunter? 


6O2 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


142.  What  sort  of  a  face  does  an  auctioneer  like  best? 

143.  Why  is  the  letter  F  like  a  cow's  tail  ? 

144.  What  is  the  difference  between  a  husbandman  and 

a  seamstress  ? 

145.  What  is  it  of  which  we  have  two  every  year,  two 

every  week,  and  two  every  day  ? 

146.  H  >w  does  a  boy  look  if  you  hurt  him  ? 

147.  \Vhat  medicine  ought  to  be  given  to  misers? 

148.  Why  do  British  soldiers  never  run  away? 

149.  What  weight  or  measure  would  no  competitor 

wish  to  be  ? 

150.  What  part  of  a  railway  carriage  resembles  Fanny 

when  she  is  sleepy  ? 

151.  Why  is  the  letter  R  most  important  to  young 

people  ? 

152.  Why  is  a  healthy  boy  like  England  ? 

153.  When  is  a  book  like  a  prisoner  in  the  States  of 

Barbary  ? 

154.  What  wind  would  a  hungry  sailor  prefer? 

155.  On  which  side  of  a  pitcher  is  the  handle? 

156.  When  may  a  chair  be  said  to  dislike  you? 

157.  What  is  that  which  divides  by  uniting  and  unites 

by  dividing? 

158.  Why  are  young  children  like  castles  in  the  air  ? 

159.  What  is  higher  and  handsomer  when  the  head  is 

off? 

1 60.  Why  is  a  proud  girl  like  a  music-book? 

161.  Why  is  a  short  negro  like  a  white  man? 

162.  Why  are  bells  the  most  obedient  of  inanimate 

things? 

163.  Why  are  boxes  at  a  theatre  the  saddest  places  of 

public  amusement  ? 

164.  Why  is  the  most  discontented  man  the  most  easily 

satisfied? 

165.  Why  are  ripe  potatoes  in  the  ground  like  thieves? 

166.  Why  is  it  unjust  to  blame  cabmen  for  cheating 

us? 

167.  When  is  a  thief  like  a  reporter? 

168.  When  is  the  French  nation  like  a  baby  ? 

169.  What  does  a  lamp-post  become  when  the  lamp  is 

removed  ? 

170.  What  things  increase  the  more  you  contract  them  ? 

171.  Why  is  a  mother  who  spoils  her  children  like  a 

person  building  castles  in  the  air  ? 

172.  When  you  listen  to  your  little  brother's  drum, 

why  are  you  like  a  just  judge? 

173.  When  is  a  tourist  in  Ireland  like  a  donkey? 

174.  Who  always  sits  with  his  hat  on  before  the  Queen  ? 
{75.  Why  is  a  pig  in  the  drawing  room  like  a  house 

on  fire  ? 

lj6.  When  is  a  river  not  a  river? 
377.  What  trade  never  turns  to  the  left? 

178.  What  trade  is  more  than  full  ? 

179.  Why  is  electricity  like  the  police  when  they  are 

wanted? 

180.  When  is  a  borough  like  a  ship  ? 


181.  Why  are  guns  like  trees  ? 

182.  What  town  is  drawn  more  frequently  than 

other? 

183.  Who  was  the  first  postman  ? 

184.  Why  is  little  Prince  Albert  Victor  like  the  two 

things  in  which  children  most  rejoice? 

185.  What  is  the  key-note  to  good  breeding? 

186.  What  is  the  difference  between  a  sailor  and  a  sol 

dier? 

187.  Why  is  a  rook  like  a  farmer? 

188.  Why  is  anger  like  a  potato? 

189.  Why  does  pedestrianism  help  arithmetic  ? 

190.  What  trees  are  those  which  are  the  same  after 

being  burned  as  they  were  before  ? 

191.  What  is  the  best  thing  to  do  in  a  hurry? 

192.  Why  are  cobblers  like  Sir  William  Ferguson  ? 

193.  Which  is  the  ugliest  hood  ever  worn  ? 

194.  What  nation  will  always  overcome  in  the  end? 

195.  When  is  butter  like  Irish  children? 

196.  On  what  tree  would   an  ode  be  written  which 

would  name  an  Irish  M.  P.  ? 

197.  What  have    you  now  before  you  which  would 

give  you  a  company,  a  veiled  lady,  and  a  noisy 
toy? 

198.  What  is  the  difference  between  Kossuth  and  a 

half-starved  oyster? 

199.  If  Neptune  lost  his  dominions,  what  would  he 

say? 

200.  Why  is  a  Dorcas  Society  like  an  assembly  of  di» 

honest  people  ? 

201.  It  went  before  Queen  Mary/— poor  thing !     It  fol' 

lowed  King  William  to  the  end — poor  man ! 

202.  Why  is  the  letter  A  like  noon  ? 

203.  Why  is  a  five  pound  note  more  than  five  sover 

eigns? 

204.  When  was  the  greatest  destruction  of  poultry? 

205.  In  what  respects  were  the  Governments  of  Algieni 

and  Malta  as  different  as  light  from  darkness? 

206.  When  is  a  young  lady's  cheek  not  a  cheek? 

207.  When  is  her  nose  not  a  nose? 

208.  When  is  a  boy  not  a  boy  ? 

209.  When  is  a  ship  foolishly  in  love  ? 

210.  When  is  a  ship  like  Harry's  mamma? 

211.  What  part  of  London  would  a  horse  most  like  to 

live  in  ? 

212.  What  do  you  put  before  nine  to  make  it  three  less 

by  the  addition  ? 

213.  Why  should  you  never  attempt  to  catch  the  12.50 

train  ? 

214.  Who  is  the  best  pew-opener  ? 

215.  Given  A  B  C,  to  find  Q. 

216.  Which  is  the  easier  profession,  a  doctor's  or  3 

clergyman's  ? 

217.  What  word  of  four  syllables  represents  Sin  riding 

on  a  little  animal  ? 


CONUNDRUMS. 


603 


*l8.  If  I  -were  in  the  sun  and  you  out   of  it,  what 
would  the  sun  become  ? 

219.  Why  is  a  tallow  chandler  the  most  unfortunate  of 

all  mankind? 

220.  What  is  it  that  walks  with  its  head  downwards  ? 

221.  Why  are  the  hours  from  one  to  twelve  like  good 

Christians  ? 

222.  Why  is  a  hen  walking  across  the  road  like  a  con 

spiracy  ? 

223.  On  which  side  of  the  church  is  the  yew-tree 

planted  ? 

324.  Why  cannot  Napoleon  III  insure  his  life  ? 
225.  How  many  wives  does  the  Prayer-book  allow? 


226.  Why  have  ducks  no  hereafter? 

227.  Why  is  a  dog  with  a  lame  leg  like  a  boy  at    rith« 

metic  ? 

228.  Why  is  an  engine-driver  like  a  school-masWr  ? 

229.  What  will  a  leaden  bullet  become  in  water  ? 

230.  Why  is  a  person  of  short  stature  like  an  almanac  ? 

231.  Why  is  the  smoke  of  tobacco  like  Port  wine  ? 

232.  Why  is  a  photograph  like  a  member  of  Parlia* 

ment? 

233.  Why  is  lyondon  Bridge  like  merit  ? 

234.  That  which  every  one  requires,  that  which  every 

one    gives,   that  which    every    one  asks,  and 
that  which  very  few  take. 


ANSWERS  TO  CONUNDRUMS. 


9- 

10. 

ii. 

12. 


35- 
16. 

17- 
18. 
19. 
20. 

21. 


32- 

33- 
34- 
35. 


Into  his  fortieth  year. 

The  elder  tree. 

Pepper  and  salt. 

Because  they  practice  their  professions. 

She  pulled  his  ears  and  trod  on  his  corn. 

Because  they  are  the  weaker  vessels 

When  long  experience  has  made  him  sage. 

Englishmen.     In  Scotland  there  are  men  of  Ayr 

(air),  in  Ireland  men  of  Cork  ;  but  in  England 

are  lightermen. 
K.  N.  (Cayenne). 
Because  when  you  separate  the  head  from  the  body, 

you  don't  take  it  from  the  trunk. 
The  footman. 
Smo-king  and  soa-king. 
When  it  has  a  hole  in  it. 
Because  it  covers  its  face  with  its   hands,   and 

runs  down  its  own  works. 
Because  it  is  always  in  fun. 
Because  they  have  ears  which  can't  hear,  eyes 

which  cannot  see. 
Caper  sauce. 

Because  she's  a-mountain  ! 
It  never  does  right  (write)  of  itself. 
Because  Gee  (G)  makes  it  go  ? 
Because    they    make  people    steel  (steal)  pens, 

and  say  they  do  write  (right). 
Because  the  train  always  runs  over  sleepers. 
When  it  is  a-drift. 
Columns. 
Chap.  I. 

Because  it  is  a  head  (s)  centre. 
He  is  an  India  gent  (indigent) . 
A  muggy  day. 

One  is  hard  up  and  the  other  soft  down. 
Yes  ;  they  are  Macaw-lays  (Macaulays); 
Inn-attention. 
Mouse. 

When  he  sits  down  to  wine  (whine)  and  pine. 
Bank  notes,  and  they  make  (four)  fortunes. 
When  he  takes  a  roll  in  bed. 


36.  Because  he  runs    for  cups,   plates,    and   stakes 

(steaks). 

37.  When  there's  a  leek  (leak)  in  it. 

38.  Stone. 

39.  When  they  are  mustered  (mustard). 

40.  It  makes  oil,  foil. 

41.  Because  it  makes  ice  into  Hce. 

42.  Quick. 

43.  One  skims  milk  and  the  other  skims  water. 

44.  The  elephant  the  most,  because  he  carries  a  trunk. 

The  fox  and  cock  the  least,  as  they  have  only 
a  brush  and  comb  between  them. 

45.  None  ;  they  are  all  carried  to  it. 

46.  Because  there  was  a  heavy  swell  on  the  beach 

and  a  little  cove  running  up  into  the    land., 
(This  riddle  is  a  slang  one.) 

47.  Because  they  banished  the  whites  and  cast  off 

their  yoke  (yolk). 

48.  A  policeman  wJ  en  he  is  wanted. 

49.  A  pig,  because  he  is  killed  first  and  cured  after 

wards. 

50.  The  one  who  has  the  largest  head. 

51.  When  it  is  a  little  tart. 

52.  Because  the  cabman  always  drives  over   your 

head. 

53.  Because  they  sell  what  they  knead  (need)  them 

selves. 

54.  Because  it  is  uttered  but  not  allowed  (aloud). 

55.  The  Great  Bear  (grate  bare). 

56.  Putting  the  fire  out. 

57.  His  daughter. 

58.  When  she  is  turned  into  a  field. 

59.  Because  they  are  in-sects. 

60.  Because  he  thought  it  a  good  opening  for  a  young 

man. 

61.  Because  he  is  'listed,  trained,  has  ten  drills  (ten 

drils),  and  shoots. 

62.  The  half,  because  the  full  moon  is  as  light  again. 

63.  When  the  hedges  are  shooting  and  the  hull-rushes 

out. 

64.  Because  his  is  all  net  profit. 


604 


ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  VALUABLE  INFORMATION. 


65.  Ashes. 

66.  Because  we  cannot  get  on  (O  N)  well  without 

them. 

67.  To  make  your  waistcoat  first. 

68.  Because  he  shows  an  open  countenance  in  the 

act  of  taking  you  in. 

69.  Because  there's  always  a  better. 

70.  Because  for  every  grain  they  eat  they  give  a  peck. 

71.  When  she  wishes  for  a  mate. 

72.  A  step-father  (farther). 

73.  A  scarlet  runner. 

74.  Because  it  is  not  current  (currant). 

75.  Nothing. 

76.  It  is  matchless. 

77.  Because  he  is  guided  by  the  directions  of  stran 

gers. 

78.  A  noise. 

79.  C  P  O  (Scipio). 

80.  It  would  be  making  game  of  him. 

81.  She  is  your  mother. 

82.  A  player. 

83.  It  is  between  two  seas  (C's). 

84.  It  has  no  scruples. 

85.  Because    it   is   one   of  the   great  composers  of 

modern  times. 
When  he  is  a-loft. 

87.  For  diver's  reasons. 

88.  Sixteen  ounces  in  one  pound. 

89.  Two  boots. 

90.  A  hypocrite  neat, 

Can  best  count  her  feet  (counterfeit), 
And  so,  I  suppose, 
Can  best  count  her  toes. 

91.  The  date. 

92.  C?ke,  because  it  is  only  sometimes  tipsy,  while 

wine  is  often  drunk. 

93.  Because  it  ought  to  be  carried  out. 

94.  Because  he  often  feels  a  great  deal  bored  (board). 

95.  When  he  is  within  the  pound. 

96.  Striking  her  own  flag. 

97.  It  had  better  be  (sown)  sewn. 

98.  Because  it  is  devoid  of  ease  (E's) — there  are  no 

E's  in  the  word  comfort). 

99.  Two  T's  (to  tease). 

100.  XL,  lent  (excellent). 

101.  When  it  is  crossed. 

102.  Because  it  often  changes  its  notes. 

103.  He  knows  how  to  stretch  his  bill. 

104.  C  D  (seedy). 

105.  The  "Weekly  (weakly)  News." 
1 06    Poe. 

107.  A-gate. 

108.  When  he  is  hale  (hail). 

109.  Shooting  stars. 
no.   Leeks. 

in.  When  she  poaches  eggs. 
112.   Y  (why  ?). 


113.  When  it  is  due  (dew). 

114.  A  sheep- pen. 

115.  When  it  is  under  consideration. 

116.  He  knows  the  value  of  his  sovereign, 

117.  It  is  always  in  waiting. 

118.  For-tune. 

119.  They  are  next  the  sea  (C). 

120.  When  it  is  a  rye  (awry)  field. 

121.  Because  it  will  make  an  eelyeel. 

122.  I. 

123.  I  W  (I  double  you). 

124.  Because  it  is  sent  (scent)  wherever  it  goea 

125.  A  dripping  Pan. 

126.  When  it  is  a  little  bare  (bear). 

127.  Letter  M. 

128.  Like  to  be  drowned. 

129.  When  it  rises  and  takes  a  fly. 

130.  When  we  see  a  rash  man  eating  a  rasher. 

131.  When  he  is  a  regular  brick. 

132.  When  it  is  made  into  a  ruler. 

133.  When  it  is  full  of  knots. 

134.  A  river. 

135.  Facetious. 

136.  Largess  (S). 

137.  It  is  drawn  with  a  drag  on  (dragon). 

138.  Because  it  is  in  bliss  while  most  of  the  others  ar^ 

in  Purgatory. 

139.  Because  you  would  get  bad  habits  from  him. 

140.  They  correspond,  but  never  meet. 

141.  Because  he  soonest  takes  a  fence  (takes  offence)* 

142.  One  that  is  for-bidding. 

143.  It  is  the  end  of  beef. 

144.  The  one  gathers  what  he  sows ;  the  other  sews 

what  she  gathers. 

145.  Vowels. 

146.  It  makes  him  yell  "  Oh  "  (yellow). 

147.  Anti-money  (antimony). 

148.  Because  they  belong  to  the  standing  army. 

149.  The  last. 

150.  The  wheel,  because  it  is  tired. 

151.  Because  without  it  we  should  have  neither  Christ 

mas  nor  a  New  Year. 

152.  He  possesses  a  good  constitution. 

153.  When  it  is  bound  in  Morocco. 

154.  One  that  blows  foul  (fowl)  and  chops  about. 

155.  The  outside. 

156.  When  it  can't  bear  you. 

157.  Scissors. 

158.  Because  their  existence  is  only  in-fancy. 

159.  A  pillow. 

160.  She  is  full  of  airs. 

161.  He  is  not  at  all  black  (a  tall  black). 

162.  Because  they  make  a  noise  whenever  th* 

tolled  (told). 

163.  Because  they  are  always  in  tiers  (in  tears). 

164.  Nothing  satisfies  him. 


an* 


CONUNDRUMS. 


605 


I  55.  /hey  ought  to  be  taken  up. 
'  66.  Because  we  call  them  to  take  us  in. 
567.  When  he  takes  notes. 
{68.  When  it  is  in  arms. 

169.  A  lamp  lighter. 

170.  Debts. 

171.  She  indulges  in-fancy  too  much. 

172.  Because  you  hear  both  sides. 

173.  When  he  is  going  to  Bray. 

174.  Her  coachman. 

175.  Because  the  sooner  it  is  put  out  the  better. 

176.  When  it  is  eye  water  (high  water). 

177.  A  wheelwright. 

178.  Fuller. 

179.  Because  it  is  an  invisible  force. 

180.  When  it  is  under  canvass. 

181.  People  plant  them  and  they  shoot. 

182.  Cork. 

183.  Cadmus.     He  carried .  letters  from  Phoenicia  to 

Greece. 

184.  He  is  the  sun  and  air  (son  and  heir)  of  England. 

185.  B  natural. 

186.  One  tars  his  ropes,  the  other  pitches  his  tent. 

187.  He  gets  his  grub  by  the  plough. 

188.  It  shoots  from  the  eye. 

189.  it  is  a  Walkinghame  (walking  game). 

190.  Ashes. 

191.  Nothing. 

192.  They  are  skilled  in  the  art  of  heeling  (healing). 

193.  Falsehood. 

194.  Determi-nation. 

195.  When  it  is  made  into  little  Pats. 

196.  Ode  on  a  yew  (O'Donoghue). 

197.  Co-nun-drum. 

198.  One  is  a  native  of  Hungary,  the  other  a  hungry 

native. 

199.  I  have  not  a  notion  (I  have  not  an  ocean). 

200.  It  Is  very  sew-sew  (so-so)  society. 

20 1.  Letter  M. 

202.  It  comes  in  the  middle  of  the  day. 

203.  Because  when   you  put  it  in   your  pocket  you 


double  it,  and  when  you  take  it  out  you  find  it 
in  creases. 

204.  When  King  Claudius  of  Denmark  did  "murder 

most  foul'1  (fowl). 

205.  The  one  was  governed  by  deys  (days),  the  other 

by  knights  (nights). 

206.  When  it's  a  little  pale  (pail). 

207.  When  it's  a  little  reddish  (radish). 

208.  When  he  is  a  spoon. 

209.  When  she  is  anchoring  (hankering)  after  a  swell. 

210.  When  she  is  attached  to  a  buoy  (boy). 

211.  Gray's  Inn  (Grazing)  Lane. 

212.  SIX  (S  added). 

213.  Because  it  would  be  10  to  i  if  you  caught  it. 

214.  One  bob  (i.  <?.,  one  shilling). 

2m.  Take  CAB,  and  drive  through  Hammersmith  to 
find  Kew  (Q). 

216.  A  clergyman  :  he  preaches,  the  doctor  practices'. 

217.  Sin-on-a-mouse  (synonymous). 

218.  Sin. 

219.  Because  all  his  works  are  wick-ed,   and  all  his 

wick-ed  works  ?.re  brought  to  light. 

220.  A  nail  in  a  shoe. 

221.  Because  they  are  always  on  the  watch. 

222.  It  is  a  fowl  (foul)  proceeding. 

223.  The  outside. 

224.  Because  no  man  living  is  able  to  make  out  hia 

policy. 

225.  Sixteen :  for  (four)  richer,  for  (four)  poorer,  for 

(four)  better,  for  (four)  worse. 

226.  Because  they  have  their  necks  twirled  in  this. 

(Next  world  sounds  like  necks  twirled.) 

227.  He  puts  down  three  and  carries  one. 

228.  Because  one  trains  the  mind,  and  the  other  mindr 

the  train. 

229.  Wet. 

230.  Because  he  is  often  overlooked  or  looked  ever, 

231.  Because  it  comes  out  of  a  pipe. 

232.  Because  it  is  a  representative. 

233.  It  is  often  passed  over. 

234.  Advice. 


aminmpmmiyj 

!I|I||I|IIH||I||I|IJ|E.1 

^fiSMSHfirfimnfiinT^ 

JjiiiimjimiiiminujiiMjimjmimmimTiinjimTLK 

^^A^ls^^^^^^^^^^^^l 
^iiiiiiiiriiiiriiiiiif? 


BOOK  VI. 


Choice  Selections  of  Poetry  from  the 
World's  Best  Authors. 


Daughters  of  Toil. 

E  with  want  and  still  despair, 
And  faint  with  hastening  others'  gain  I 
Whose  finely  fibered  natures  bear 
The  double  curse  of  work  and  pain ; 
Whose  days  are  long  with  toil  unpaid, 

And  short  to  meet  the  crowding  want ; 
Whose  nights  are  short  for  rest  delayed, 
And  long  for  stealthy  fears  to  haunt — 

To  whom  my  lady,  hearing  faint 

The  distance-muffled  cry  of  need, 
Grants,  through  some  alms-dispensing  saint, 

The  cup  of  water,  cold  indeed ; 
jne  while  my  lord,  pursuing  gains 

Amid  the  market's  sordid  strife, 
With  wageless  labor  from  your  veins 

Wrings  out  the  warm,  red  wine  of  life,— 

What  hope  for  you  that  better  days 

Shall  climb  the  yet  unreddened  east  ? 
When  famine  in  the  morning  slays, 

Why  look  for  joy  at  mid-day  feast? 
Far  shines  the  Good,  and  faintly  throws 

A  doubtful  gleam  through  mist  and  rain  ; 
But  evil  Darkness  presses  close 

His  face  against  the  window-pane. 

What  hope  for  you  that  mansions  free 

Await  in  some  diviner  sphere, 
Whose  sapphire  walls  can  never  be 

Devoured,  like  widows'  houses  here  ? 
Too  close  these  narrow  walls  incline, 

This  slender  daylight  beams  too  pale, 
For  Heaven's  all-loving  warmth  to  shine, 

Or  God's  blue  tenderness  avail. 

O  brothers !  sisters  !  who  would  fain 
Some  balm  of  healing  help  apply — 

Cheer  some  one  agony  of  pain, 

One  note  of  some  despairing  cry — 
606 


Whose  good  designs  uncertain  wait, 
By  tangled  social  bands  perplexed, 

O,  read  the  sacred  sentence  straight  : 
Do  justice  first  —  love  mercy  next! 


M.  JOHNSOBfr, 


Farm  Ballad. 

|HEN  I  start  my  plow  a-runnin'  in  the  black  and 

meller  ground 
And  the  land  is  growin'  smaller  that  my  horses 

tramps  around ; 
When  the  white-oak  buds  are  opeuin'  and  grass  a- 

growin'  green, 
Makes  a  feller  think  of  summer  as  he  gazes  on  thfc 

scene ; 
When  the  chipmunk  runs    and  chatters  'cause  thfl 

plough  his  den  'as  torn, 
An'  the  crows  are  loudly  scoldit:'  'bout  the  plantin*  of 

the  corn ; 
When  the  bluebird  hollers  out  a  rail  and  starts  to  build 

a  nest, 
Then  I  think  that  that's  the  time  o'  year  I  kind  o'  like 

the  best ; 
But  it's  mighty  nice,  I  tell  you,  when  the  summer  time 

is  here, 
With  the  wheat  a  growin'  yeller  and    the    harvest 

drawin'  near ; 
With  the  timothy  in  blossom  and  the  hay  in 'just  af 

hand, 

An'  the  mother  quail  a-callin'  to  her  peepin'  little  baud, 
Oh,  I  like  to  watch  the  woolly  clouds  a-floatin'  far 

away 

As  I'm  ridin'  on  the  mower  or  rakin'  up  the  hay,, 
Then  I  somehow  seem  acquainted  with  each  bird  or 

bumblebee, 
An'  I  think  the  golden  summer  is  the  time  o'  year  fot 

me. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


A  Fairy  Story. 

kNCE  on  a  time,  my  beauty, 

When  young,  young  years  were  green, 
The  fairies  in  the  moonlight 
Danced  late  and  long,  I  ween. 

The  gnomes  and  elves  and  brownies 
Whirled  round  and  round  in  glee, 

And  sprites  and  wilful  pixies 
Were  glad  as  they  could  be. 

High  on  her  throne  Titania, 

Queen  of  the  Fairy  Court, 
Surrounded  by  her  vassals, 

Gazed  smiling  on  the  sport. 

Far  out  upon  the  waters 

The  mermaids  combed  their  hair, 

And  sea  gulls  in  the  distance 
Screamed  out  their  evening  prayer. 

Night  after  night  the  frolic 

Waxed  mad  and  madder  still — 
For  not  a  sin  nor  sorrow 

The  "  wee  folk's"  heart  could  fill. 

Those  days  are  done  and  over, 

My  beauty — they  are  dead, 
The  world  grew  old  and  weary, 

And  then  the  fairies  fled. — SusiE  M.  BEST. 


The  Auld  Brig's  Welcome. 

3N  *flE  UNVEILING  OF  THE  BURNS  STATUE,  AYR,  JUI,Y, 
8,  1891. 

"HE  Auld  Brig  hails  wi'  hearty  cheer- 
Uncover,  lads,  for  Burns  is  here ; 
The  Bard  who  links  us  all  to  fame, 
And  blends  his  own  with  Scotia's  name. 

Seven  hundred  years  the  winding  Ayr 
Has  glassed  my  floating  image  there ; 
I've  seen  long  centuries  glide  away, 
But  Robin  brought  our  blithest  day. 

I  heard  the  Thirteenth's  warlike  peal 
Wake  serried  ranks  of  glinting  steel ; 
All  wrinkled  now,  yet  in  my  prime, 
I  wait  with  joy  the  Twentieth's  chime. 

I  cherish  weel  in  memory  bright 
The  glorious  deeds  of  Wallace  wight, 
And  deem  the  very  stones  are  blest 
Which  bind  the  arch  his  feet  have  pressed. 

I  mind  the  time  King  Robert's  band 
With  sweeping  oar  left  Arran's  strand ; 
The  flame  that  lit  yon  beacon  hill 
All  round  the  world  is  shining  still. 


Old  Coila's  had  her  share  of  fame, 
Her  bead-roll  treasures  many  a  name ; 
She's  had  her  heroes  great  and  sma', 
But  Robin  stands  aboon  them  a'. 

The  auld  clay-biggin'  of  his  birth 
Becomes  the  shrine  of  all  the  earth ; 
The  room  where  rose  the  Cottar's  prayer—- 
The  proudest  heritage  of  Ayr. 

No  starlit  sky,  no  Summer  noon 
But  kens  the  banks  o'  bonnie  Doon ; 
No  human  heart  but  fondly  turns 
Responsive  to  the  Land  of  Burns.' 

Ah,  Burns !  who  dares  to  call  thee  poor! 
Each  sky-lark  nest  on  yonder  moor, 
Each  daisy-bloom  on  flowery  mead, 
The  lambs  that  on  the  meadows  feed,— 

Each  field  and  brae  by  burn  or  stream 
Where  wandering  lovers  come  to  dream 
Are  all  thine  own.     As  vassals  all 
We  gather  here  from  princely  hall, — 

From  lowly  cot,  from  hills  afar, 
From  southern  clime,  from  western  star 
To  bring  our  love, — all  hearts  are  thine 
By  title  time  can  never  tyne. 

The  crowning  meed  of  praise  belongs 
To  him  who  writes  a  people's  songs, 
Who  strikes  one  note — the  common  good' 
One  chord — a  wider  brotherhood ; 

Who  drops  a  word  of  cheer  to  bless 
His  fellow-mortal  in  distress, 
And  lightens  on  life's  dusty  road 
Some  weary  traveler  of  his  load ; 

Who  finds  the  Mousie's  trembling  heart 
Of  God's  great  universe  a  part ; 
And  in  the  Daisy's  crimson  tips 
Discerns  a  soul  witn  human  lips. 

We  little  dreamed  when  Maille  died 
Those  tender  words  would  speed  so  wide ; 
Men  smiled  and  wept  and  went  their  W,«« 
The  prince  was  clad  in  hodden  gray. 

Though  but  a  brig,  it  garred  me  greet 
To  hear  him  pour  his  vision  sweet  ^ 
And  in  one  crowning  climax  seal 
His  pity  even  for  the  Deil. 

To  see  the  couthie  Twa  Dogs  there 
Their  joys  and  griefs  wi'  ither  share,— 
A  cantie  tale,  it  made  me  smile 
That  sic  a  lad  was  born  in  Kyle ; 

Who  caught  the  witches  in  a  dance 
And  bound  them  all  in  lasting  trance  J 
The  very  land  is  bright  and  gay 
Since  Tarn  o'Shanter  rode  this  way, 


6o8 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


The  Auld  Brig  kens  the  story  well 
These  rippling  wavelets  love  to  tell ; 
"  Ayr,  gurgling,  kiss'd  his  pebbled  shore,**- 
A  fonder  kiss  his  waters  bore. 

That  raptured  hour,  that  sacred  vow 
Are  love's  eternal  treasures  now ; 
Montgomery's  towers  may  fall  away, 
But  Highland  Mary  lives  for  aye. 

And  sweeter  still  the  swelling  song 
Of  loyal  love  repairing  wrong ; 
Like  mavis  notes  that  gently  fa': — 
"  Of  a'  the  airts  the  wind  can  blaw." 

Brare  bonnie  Jean  !     We  love  to  tell 
The  story  from  thy  lips  that  fell ; 
The  lengthened  life  which  Heaven  gave 
Casts  radiant  twilight  on  his  grave. 

A  noble  woman,  strong  to  shield ; 
Her  tender  heart  his  trusty  bield  ; 
The  critic  from  her  doorway  turns 
With  faith  renewed  and  love  for  Burns. 

She  knew  as  no  one  else  could  know 
The  heavy  burden  of  his  woe ; 
The  carking  care   the  wasting  pain, — 
.Each  welded  link  of  misery's  chain. 

She  saw  his  early  sky  o'ercast 

And  gloomy  shadows  gathering  fast ; 

His  soul  by  bitter  sorrow  torn, 

And  knew  that  "  Man  was  made  to  mourn." 

She  heard  him  by  the  sounding  shore 
Which  speaks  his  name  for  evermore, 
And  felt  the  anguish  of  his  prayer  ; 
"  Farewell,  the  bonnie  banks  of  Ayr." 

Oh,  Robert  Burns  !  by  tempest  tossed, 
Storm-swept,  by  cruel  whirlwinds  crossed ; 
Thy  prayers  like  David's  psalms  of  old 
Make  all  our  plaints  and  wailings  cold. 

In  weakness  sown,  yet  raised  in  might, 
He  wept  that  we  might  know  the  right ; 
His  sweetest  pleasures  pain-imbued ; 
His  songs  a  drama's  interlude. 

And  who  dare  thrust  his  idle  word 
Where  God's  own  equities  are  heard  ; 
"  Who  made  the  heart,  'tis  He  alone" — 
Let  him  that's  guiltless  cast  the  stone. 

We  know  but  this :  his  living  song 
Protects  the  weak  and  tramples  wrong ; 
Refracting  r~  iiance  of  delight 
His  prismet    "en^us,  clear  and  bright, 


Illumes  all  Scotland  far  and  wide, 
And  Caledonia  throbs  with  pride 
To  hear  her  grand  old  Doric  swell 
From  highland  crag  to  lowland  dell ; 

To  find,  where'er  her  children  stray, 

Her  "Auld  Lang  Syne,"  her  "  Scots  Wha  Hac,1* 

And  words  of  hope  which  proudly  span 

The  centuries  vast — "A  man's  a  man." 

Then  welcome,  Burns,  from  shore  to  shore  : 
All  hail  our  Robin  evermore ; 
Though  late,  we  greet  the  Ploughman's  name 
Full  in  the  morning  of  his  fame. 

WAI,I,ACE  BRUCE  (U.  S.  Consul). 


Imperfection  of  Human  Sympathy. 

|HY  should  we  faint  and  fear  to  live  alone, 

Since  all  alone,  so  Heaven  has  willed,  we  die 
Nor  e'en  the  tenderest  heart,  and  next  our  own 
Knows  half  the  reasons  why  we  smile  and  sigh? 

Each  in  his  hidden  sphere  of  joy  or  woe, 
Our  hermit  spirits  dwell,  and  range  apart ; 

Our  eyes  see  all  around  in  gloom  or  glow, 
Hues  of  their  own,  fresh  borrowed  from  the  heart. 

And  well  it  is  for  us  our  God  should  feel 

Alone  our  secret  throbbings  ;  so  our  prayer 
May  readier  spring  to  heaven,  nor  spend  its  zeal 

On  cloud-born  idols  of  this  lower  air. 
For  if  one  heart  in  perfect  sympathy 

Beat  with  another,  answering  love  for  love, 
Weak  mortals  all  entranced  on  earth  would  lie, 

Nor  listen  for  those  purer  strains  above. 

Or  what  if  Heaven  for  once  its  searching  light 
Lent  to  some  partial  eye,  disclosing  all 

The  rude  bad  thoughts  that  in  our  bosoms'  night 
Wander  at  large,  nor  heed  love's  gentle  thrall? 

Who  would  not  shun  the  dreary  uncouth  place? 

As  if,  fond  leaning  where  her  infant  slept, 
A  mother's  arm  a  serpent  should  embrace ; 

So  might  we  friendless  live,  and  die  unwept. 
Then  keep  the  softening  veil  in  mercy  drawn, 

Thou  who  canst  love  us,  though  thou  read  us  true* 
As  on  the  bosom  of  the  aerial  lawn 

Melts  in  dim  haze  each  coarse,  ungentle  hue. 

Thou  know'st  our  bitterness — our  joys  are  thine— 
No  stranger  thou  to  all  our  wanderings  wild: 

Nor  could  we  bear  to  think  how  every  line 
Of  us,  thy  darkened  likeness  and  defiled, 

Stands  in  full  sunshine  of  thy  piercing  eye, 
But  that  thou  call'st  us  brethren  ;  sweet  repose 

Is  in  that  word — The  Lord  who  dwells  on  high 
Knows  all,  yet  loves  us  better  than  he  knows. 

JOHN 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


We  are  Growing  Old. 

are  growing  old — how  the  thought  will  rise 
When  a  glance  is  backward  cast 
On  some  long-remembered  spot  that  lies 
In  the  silence  of  the  past ! 
It  may  be  the  shrine  of  our  early  vows, 

Or  the  tomb  of  early  tears ; 
But  it  seems  like  a  far-off  isle  to  us, 
In  the  stormy  sea  of  years. 

Oh,  wide  and  wild  are  the  waves  that  part 

Our  steps  from  its  greenness  now  ; 
And  we  miss  the  joy  of  many  a  heart, 

And  the  light  of  many  a  brow. 
For  deep  o'er  many  a  stately  bark 

Have  the  whelming  billows  rolled, 
That  steerei  with  us  from  that  early  mark.— 

O,  friends,  we  are  growing  old — 

Old  in  the  dimness  and  the  dust 

Of  our  daily  toils  and  cares ; 
Old  in  the  wrecks  of  love  and  trust, 

Which  our  burdened  memory  bears. 
Each  form  may  wear  to  the  passing  gaze 

The  bloom  of  life's  freshness  yet, 
And  beams  may  brighten  our  later  days 

Which  the  morning  never  met. 

But,  oh,  the  changes  we  have  seen 

In  the  far  and  winding  way  ; 
The  graves  that  have  in  our  path  grown  green, 

And  the  locks  that  have  grown  gray .' 
The  winters  still  on  our  own  may  spare 

The  sable  or  the  gold  : 
But  we  saw  their  snows  upon  brighter  hair — 

And,  friends,  we  are  growing  old  ! 

We  have  gained  the  world's  cold  wisdom  now, 

We  have  learned  to  pause  and  fear ; 
But  where  are  the  living  founts  whose  flow 

Was  a  joy  of  heart  to  hear? 
We  have  won  the  wealth  of  many  a  clime, 

And  the  lore  of  many  a  page  ; 
But  where  is  the  hope  that  saw  in  time 

But  its  boundless  heritage  ? 

Will  it  come  again  when  the  violet  wakes, 

And  the  woods  their  youth  renew  ? 
We  have  stood  in  the  light  of  sunny-brakes 

When  the  bloom  was  deep  and  blue ; 
And  our  souls  might  joy  in  the  spring-time  then, 

But  the  joy  was  faint  and  cold ; 
For  ;t  never  could  give  us  the  youth  again 

Of  hearts  that  are  growing  old. 

FRANCES  BROWN. 

39 


Haste  Not!    Best  Not! 

WITHOUT  haste  !  without  rest! 

'Bind  the  motto  to  thy  breast ; 
Bear  it  with  thee  as  a  spell ; 
Storm  or  sunshine,  guard  it  well ! 
Heed  not  flowers  that  round  thee  bloom, 
Bear  it  onward  to  the  tomb  ! 

Haste  not !    Let  no  thoughtless  deed 
Mar  for  aye  the  spirit's  speed ! 
Ponder  well,  and  know  the  right, 
Onward  then,  with  all  thy  might ! 
Haste  not !  years  can  ne'er  atone 
For  one  reckless  action  done. 

Rest  not !     Life  is  sweeping  by, 
Go  and  dare,  before  you  die ; 
Something  mighty  and  sublime 
Leave  behind  to  conquer  time ! 
Glorious  'tis  to  live  for  aye, 
When  these  forms  have  passed  away. 

Haste  not !  rest  not !  calmly  wait ; 
Meekly  bear  the  storms  of  fate  ! 
Duty  be  thy  polar  guide ; — 
Do  the  right,  whate'er  betide ! 
Haste  not !  rest  not !  conflicts  past, 
God  shall  crown  thy  work  at  last. 

JOHANN  W.  VON  GoETHB. 


Scraping  the  Pan. 

have  often  been  told  of  the  unalloyed  bliss, 
Shared  alike  by  the  simple  and  wise, 
That  has  come  to  each  one  in  his  bright  childhood 
days — 

The  making  of  tempting  mud  pies. 
But  it  seems  to  me  strange  that  the  sweetest  and  best 

In  our  young  lives  should  not  be  forgot — 
The  frolic,  the  fun  and  exquisite  joy 

In  scraping  the  pan  or  the  pot. 
In  the  long,  shadowed  life  "what  is  left"  is  but  dregs, 

More  bitter  the  older  we  grow  ; 
Then  we  think,  with  a  sigh,  of  the  cake  in  the  pan 

That  we  scraped  in  the  sweet  long  ago. 
Could  I  from  the  years  full  of  hours  gone  by 

Choose  one  to  live  over  again, 
I  would  take  that  dear  hour  from  my  childhood's 

days, 

On  mother's  old  kitchen  floor,  when, 
After  waiting  so  long,  with  a  hungering  taste ; 

At  last,  with  a  goodness  benign, 
The  old  ebony  cook  put  the  cake  in  to  bake, 
And  the  pan,  all  unscraped,  then  was  mine. 
MARGARET  ANDREWS 


6io 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


The  Arsenal  at  Springfield. 

"HIS  is  the  Arsenal.     From  floor  to  ceiling, 

Like  a  huge  organ,  rise  the  burnished  arms; 
But  from  their  silent  pipes  no  anthem  pealing 
Startles  the  villages  with  strange  alarms. 

All  I  vhat  a  sound  will  rise  —  how  wild  and  dreary  — 

•When  the  death-angel  touches  those  swift  keys  I 
What  loud  lament  and  dismal  Miserere 

mingle  with  their  awful  symphonies! 


I  hear  even  now  the  infinite  fierce  chorus  — 

The  cries  of  agony,  the  endless  groan, 
Which,  through  the  ages  that  have  gohe  before  us, 

In  long  reverberations  reach  our  own. 

On  helm  and  harness  rings  the  Saxon  hammer  ; 

Through  Cimbric  forest  roars  the  Norseman's  song; 
And  loud,  amid  the  universal  clamor, 

O'er  distant  deserts  sounds  the  Tartar  gong. 

I  hear  the  Florentine,  who  from  his  palace 
Wheels  out  his  battle-bell  with  dreadful  din  ; 

And  Aztec  priests  upon  their  teocallis 

Beat  the  wild  war-drums  made  of  serpents'  skin  ; 

The  tumult  of  each  sacked  and  burning  village; 

The  shout  that  every  prayer  for  mercy  drowns; 
The  soldiers'  revels  in  the  midst  of  pillage  ; 

The  wail  of  famine  in  beleaguered  towns  ; 

The  bursting  shell,  the  gateway  wrenched  asunder, 
The  rattling  musketry,  the  clashing  blade  — 

And  ever  and  anon,  in  tones  of  thunder, 
The  diapason  of  the  cannonade. 

Is  it,  O  man,  with  such  discordant  noises, 
With  such  accursed  instruments  as  these, 

Thou  drownest  Nature's  sweet  and  kindly  voices, 
And  jarrest  the  celestial  harmonies? 

Were  half  the  power  that  fills  the  world  with  terror, 
Were  half  the  wealth  bestowed  on  camps  and  courts, 

Given  to  redeem  the  human  mind  from  error, 
There  were  no  need  of  arsenals  nor  forts  ; 

The  warrior's  name  would  be  a  name  abhorred  ; 

And  every  nation  that  should  lift  again 
Its  hand  against  a  brother,  on  its  forehead 

Would  wear  for  evermore  the  curse  of  Cain  ! 

Down  the  dark  future,  through  long  generations, 
The  echoing  sounds  grow  fainter  and  then  cease  ; 

And  like  a  bell,  with  solemn,  sweet  vibrations, 
I  hear  once  more  the  voice  of  Christ  say,  "Peace  !" 

Peace  !  —  and  no  longer  from  its  brazen  portals 
The  blast  of  war's  great  organ  shakes  the  skies; 

But,  beautiful  as  songs  of  the  immortals, 
The  holy  melodies  of  love  arise. 

HENRY  WADSWORTH 


Bereavement. 

little  heads  in  the  cradle^ 
Slumbering  side  b)T  side ; 
Two  little  heads — and  mother 
Watching  each  baby  brother — 
Guarding  least  harm  betide. 
Each  is  a  dainty  fellow, 

Darlings  to  love  and  pet, 

One  with  his  curls  of  yellow, 

One  with  his  locks  of  jet. 

One  little  head  in  the  cradle, 

Slumbering  all  alone, 
And  a  sad-eyed  mother  keeping 
Her  watch  o'er  the  one  that's  sleeping 

And  mourning  the  one  that's  flown. 
Oh,  dearly  she  loves  the  living, 

And  kisses  the  dimpled  face, 
The  while  her  eyes  are  giving 

Their  tears  to  the  empty  place. 

Only  an  empty  cradle, 
Only  a  heart  forlorn — 

Sighing,  in  mournful  measures 

The  flight  of  her  stolen  treasures- 
Dead  in  their  childhood's  morn. 

Never  to  hear  their  laughter, 
Dark  is  the  night  and  drear — 

Ne'er  will  the  sounding  rafter 
Ring  with  their  childish  cheer. 

A  form  in  the  twilight  kneeling 

Down  by  the  empty  nest, 
A  mother's  heart-strings  throbbing.  <- 
In  broken  whispers  sobbing : 

"  Dear  Lord,  Thou  knoweth  best!** 
Oh,  faith  of  the  grieving  mother, 

Oh,  hope,  that  is  born  in  love — 
Oh,  trust  sublime,  that  can  bide  the  time 

When  all  shall  meet  above. 

RICHARD  HENRY  Bocfc, 


How  Sleep  the  Brave! 

O\V  sleep  the  brave  who  sink  to  rest 
By  all  their  country's  wishes  blest! 

When  Spring,  with  dewy  fingers  cold, 
Returns  to  deck  their  hallowed  moulds 
She  there  shall  dress  a  sweeter  sod 
Than  Fancy's  feet  have  ever  trod. 

By  fairy  hands  their  knell  is  rung, 
By  forms  unseen  their  dirge  is  sung : 
There  Honor  comes,  a  pilgrim  gray, 
To  bless  the  turf  that  wraps  their  clay ; 
And  Freedom  shall  awhile  repair, 
To  dwell  a  weeping  hermit  there ! 

WII/UAM 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


6if 


How  Three  Were  Made  One. 

CANNIBAL,  MAID  and  her  Hottentot  Blade— 

They  met  in  a  rocky  defile  ; 
A  gay  eagle  plume  was  his  only  costume, 
The  lady  was  wrapt  in  a — smile, 
Together  they  strolled,  and  his  passion  he  told 

In  pleading  and  tremulous  tone, 
While  softly  they  trod  on  the  blossom-strewn  sod, 
And  spooned  in  the  twilight  alone. 

Then  sweetly  she  sighed  as  she  shyly  replied, 

With  tender  and  fairy-like  mien; 

She  murmured  the  word,   when  a   war  whoop  was 
heard — 

A  rival  had  burst  on  the  scene, 
A  savage  Zulu  to  the  trysting  place  drew, 

Demanding  his  Cannibal  bride ; 
But  the  Hottentot  said,  with  a  toss  of  his  head, 
"  I'll  have  thy  degenerate  hide  !  " 

The  Hottentot  flew  at  the  savage  Zulu, 

The  Zulu  he  went  for  the  Blade, 

And  fiercely  they  vied  in  their  strength  and  their 
pride, 

And  fought  for  the  Cannibal  Maid. 
She  perched  on  a  stone,  with  a  shapely  shinbone 

Clasped  tight  in  her  tapering  arms, 
And  watched  the  blood  fly  with  a  love-laden  eye 

While  the  warriors  fought  for  her  charms. 

When  fiercer    they  fought  and    the    ringing    blows 
caught 

With  thrust  and  with  parry  and  punch, 
She  said,  with  a  smile,  "  In  a  very  short  while 

I  will  have  those  two  fellows  for  lunch.  " 
The  purple  blood  flows  from  the  Hottentot's  nose, 

The  Zulu  is  struck  by  the  Blade  ; 
Then  each  of  them  sighed,  a  gasping — he  died. 

And  looked  on  the  Cannibal  Maid. 

She  made  a  nice  stew  of  the  savage  Zulu, 

And  scrambled  the  Hottentot's  brains — 
Twas  a  dainty  menu   when  the  cooking  was  through, 

And  she  dined  on  her  lovers'  remains. 
The  savage  Zulu  and  the  Hottentot,  too, 

Both  sleep  in  a  Cannibal  tomb  ; 
The  three  were  made  one,  and  the  story  is  done — 

The  maiden  strolled  off  in  the  gloom. 

EDWARD  H. 


A  Doubtful  Welcome. 

L/AS!  "  said  the  tramp,  "  I  am  hungry  and 

sore  ; 

Is  there  no  one  to  pity  my  plight?  " 
*' Oh,  yes,  "  cried  the  dog,  as  he  sharpened  his 

teeth, 
"  Come  in,  and  I'll  give  you  a  bite.  " 


The  Present. 

not  crouch  to-day,  and  worship 
The  old  Past,  whose  life  is  fled: 
Hush  your  voice  with  tender  reverence; 
Crowned  he  lies,  but  cold  and  dead : 
For  the  Present  reigns  our  monarch, 

With  an  added  weight  c  "  hours : 
.Honor  her,  for  she  is  might^  ' 
Honor  her,  for  she  is  ours ! 

See,  the  shadows  of  his  heroes 

Girt  around  her  cloudy  throne ; 
Every  day  the  ranks  are  strengthened 

By  great  hearts  to  him  unknown ; 
Noble  things  the  great  Past  promised ; 

Holy  dreams,  both  strange  and  new; 
But  the  Present  shall  fulfill  them, 

What  he  promised,  she  shall  do. 

She  inherits  all  his  treasures, 

She  is  heir  to  all  his  fame ;  , 

And  the  light  that  lightens  round  her 

Is  the  lustre  of  his  name. 
She  is  wise  with  all  his  wisdom, 

L/iving  on  his  grave  she  stands; 
On  her  brow  she  bears  his  laurels, 

And  his  harvest  in  her  hands. 

Coward,  can  she  reign  and  conquer 

If  we  thus  her  glory  dim  ? 
I/et  us  fight  for  her  as  nobly 

As  our  fathers  fought  for  him.  • 

God,  who  crowns  the  dying  ages, 

Bids  her  rule  and  us  obey : — 
Bids  her  cast  our  lives  before  her, 

Bids  us  serve  the  great  To-day. 

ADELAIDE  A.  PROCTER. 


"And  Then  the  Band  Played." 

I  am  so  happy,"  a  gushing  girl  said, 
As  she  sat  on  the  beach  by  the  summer  hotel. 
And  gave  a  slight  toss  to  her  bonnetless  head. 
As  her  spirits  arose  with  each  incoming  swell ; 
' '  But  one  thing  is  wanting  to  render  complete, 

The  happiness  I  am  enjoying  to-day, 
And  that  is  to  hear  the  grand  music  so  sweet 
When  the  evening  creeps  on,  and  we  hear  the  band 
play." 

"  And  I,  too,  am  happy,"  responded  a  wife, 

As  she  sat  by  her  friend  in  the  soft,  yielding  sand ; 
"  For  'tis  Saturday  now,  and  the  bustle  and  life, 

When  the  men  from  the  city  cotne  down  will  bt* 

grand. 
"  Oh,  yes,  I'm  so  happy,  because  you  see,  dear, 

Our  life  here's  expensive  as  well  as  so  gay, 
And  happy  and  easy  I  feel  when  I  hear, 

That  my  band — yes,  mv  hus-band — has  come  down 
to  pay." 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


Ruth. 

^HE  stood  breast  high  amid  the  corn, 
(c)^Clasped  by  the  golden  light  of  morn, 

Like  the  sweetheart  of  the  sun, 
Who  many  a  glowing  kiss  had  won. 

On  her  cheek  an  autumn  flush 
Deeply  ripened  ; — such  a  blush 
In  the  midst  of  brown  was  born, 
Like  red  poppies  grown  with  corn. 

Round  her  eyes  her  tresses  fell — 
Which  were  blackest  none  could  tell ; 
But  long  lashes  veiled  a  light 
That  had  else  been  all  too  bright. 

And  her  hat,  with  shady  brim, 
Made  her  tressy  forehead  dim  ; — 
Thus  she  stood  amid  the  stock*, 
Praising  God  with  sweetest  looks. 

Sure,  I  said,  Heaven  did  not  mean 
Where  I  reap  thou  shouldst  but  glean ; 
Lay  thy  sheaf  adown,  and  come, 
Share  my  harvest  and  my  home. 

THOMAS  HOOD. 


If  Our  Old  Clock  Could  Speak. 

IT  isn't  a  scrumptious  thing  to  see — 
It's  rather  short  o'paint — 
Its  brows  will  always  wrinkled  be 
lts  tick  is  growin'  faint ; 
The  circulation's  noways  good— 
The  j'ints  too  stiffly  play — 
It  some't  of  ner  than  it  should, 

Forgits  the  time  o'day ; 
'Twill  stop  an'  try  to  recollect 
For  somethin'  like  a  week ; 
But  there 'd  be  music,  I  suspect, 
If  our  ol'  clock  could  speak. 

Tn  rain  or  shine,  through  peace  an*  war, 

It's  still  been,  as  appears, 
A  member  of  our  family  for 

Some  five  an'  fifty  years ; 
It's  stood  right  there,  through  thick  an'1  thin, 

An'  kep'  track  of  the  sun, 
An'  raked  its  own  opinions  in 

'Bout  what  we  mortals  done  ; 
It's  hed  good  watch  o'  young  an'  old 

(An'  looked  so  mild  an'  meek  !) 
Some  anecdotes  ther'  would  be  told 

If  our  old  clock  could  speak  ! 

It's  stood  aroun'  at  every  meal, 

Mid  clash  o'  plate  and  cup, 
An'  heard  us  our  id's  reveal, 

An'  size  the  neighbors  up  ; 
It's  traced  our  little  bickerin's,  too, 

An'  seemed  to  sympathize, 


A  squintin'  softly  at  us  through 

Them  solemn  key-hole  eyes  ; 
Its  umpired  many  a  lively  game 

O'  social  hide-an'seek; 
'Twould  score  a  number  o'  the  same0 

Providin'  it  could  speak ! 

How  our  folks  drove  to  town  one  day, 

An'  lef  us  chilrun  free 
With  self-protectin'  things  to  play, 

"  But  let  the  ol'  clock  be ;  " 
An  '  though  we  young  'tins  (never  still) 

Hadn't  thought  o'  that  before, 
We  now  couldn't  let  it  'lone,  until 

It  crashed  down  on  the  floor ! 
We  tremblin'  set  it  up  again, 

Half-runnin'  with  a  squeak ; 
'Twas  lucky  for  our  jackets,  then, 

The  critter  couldn't  speak ! 

How  ol'  folks  went  to  church,  one  night. 

An'  left  us  all — sly  elves — 
If  we'd  conduct  there — good  an'  right~ 

A  meetin'  by  ourselves ; 
But  neighbor  gals  an'  boys  in  teens 

Walked  in — an'  first  we  knew, 
We  fell  to  playin'  "  Oats  peas  beans," 

"  Snap  up  and  catch  'em,"  too  ; 
We  scattered,  when,  by  good  ear-luck, 

She  heard  the  big  gate  creak  ; 
The  ol'  clock  frowned  an'  ticked  an'struck 

But  couldn't  make  out  to  speak  ! 

Ah  me !  the  facts  'twould  just  let  fly, 

Suppose  it  had  the  power ! 
Of  courtin'  chaps,  when,  on  the  sly. 

They  turned  it  back  an  hour ; 
Of  weddin's — holdin'  tender  yet, 

The  bride's  last  virgin  grace ; 
Of  fun'rals — where  it  peeped  to  get 

A  good  look  at  the  face : 
It  knows  the  inside-out  o'  folks — 

An'  nature's  every  freak ; 
I'd  write  a  book  if  I  could  coax 

That  wise  ol'  clock  to  speak  ! 

Still  straight  as  any  gun  it  stan  's 

Ag'in  the  kitchen  wall ; 
An'  slowly  waves  its  solemn  han's 

Outlivin'  of  us  all  ! 
I  venerate  some  clocks  I've  seen, 

As  e'en  almost  sublime  : 
They  form  revolvin'  links  between 

Eternity  an'  time. 
An'  when  you  come  to  take  the  pa>Ma 

To  strike  a  dreamy  streak, 
The  figurative  fact  remains 

That  all  the  clocks  can  speak. 

CARI,ETON. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


613 


My  Love. 

,  OT  as  all  other  women  are 

Is  she  that  to  my  soul  is  dear ; 
Her  glorious  fancies  come  from  far, 
Beneath  the  silvery  evening  star ; 
And  yet  her  heart  is  ever  near. 

Great  feelings  hath  she  of  her  own, 
Which  lesser  souls  may  never  know ; 

God  giveth  them  to  her  alone, 

And  sweet  they  are  as  any  tone 

Wherewith  the  wind  may  choose  to  blow, 

Yet  in  herself  she  dwelleth  not, 

Although  no  home  were  half  so  fair ; 

No  simplest  duty  is  forgot; 

Life  hath  no  dim  and  lowly  spot 

That  doth  not  in  her  sunshine  share. 

She  doeth  little  kindnesses 

Which  most  leave  undone,  or  despise ; 
For  naught  that  sets  one  heart  at  ease, 
And  giveth  happiness  or  peace, 

Is  low-esteemed  in  her  eyes. 

She  hath  no  scorn  of  common  tbings1 
And  though  she  seem  of  other  birth, 

Round  us  her  heart  entwines  and  clings, 

And  patiently  she  folds  her  wings 
To  tread  the  humble  paths  of  earth. 

Blessing  she  is  :  God  made  her  so ; 

And  deeds  of  week-day  holiness 
Fall  from  her  noiseless  as  the  snow ; 
Nor  hath  she  ever  chanced  to  know 

That  aught  were  easier  than  to  bless. 

She  is  most  fair,  and  thereunto 
Her  life  doth  rightly  harmonize ; 

Reeling  or  thought  that  was  not  true 

Ne'er  made  less  beautiful  the  blue 
Unclouded  heaven  of  her  eyes. 

She  is  a  woman  ;  one  in  whom 

The  spring-time  of  her  childish  years 
Hath  never  lost  its  fresh  perfume, 
Though  knowing  well  that  life  hath  room 
For  many  blights  aud  many  tears. 

I  love  her  with  a  love  as  still 

As  a  broad  river's  peaceful  might, 

Which  by  high  tower  and  lowly  mill 

Goes  wandering  at  its  own  will, 
And  yet  doth  ever  flow  aright. 

And  on  its  full,  deep  breast  serene, 

Like  quiet  isles,  my  duties  lie  ; 
It  flows  around  them  and  between, 
And  makes  them  fresh  and  fair  and  green, 

Sweet  homes  wherein  to  live  and  die. 

JAMES  RUSST?TT-  LOWEI.I,. 


To  An  English  Sparrow. 

IS  IT  spring  time,  my  pert  little  sparrow  ? 
I  hear  your  voice,  honest  and  shrill. 
I  see  you  out  there  on  the  narrow 

Promenade  of  my  bleak  window-sill. 
When  the  blues  came,  my  spirit  to  harrowt 
You  darted  in  sight  like  an  arrow, 

Piping,  "  Cheer  up  !  Cheer  up  !  " 
So  loud  on  your  tiny,  blithe  quill. 

I  like  you,  my  brave,  saucy  Briton, 
You've  a  way  that  has  captured  my  heart ; 

And  though  others  your  failings  may  twit  oil,  ) 
I'm  a  friend  that  will  e'er  take  your  part. 

And  as  much  as  you  wish  you  may  sit  on 

My  sill  which  you  often  have  lit  on, 

Singing,  "  Cheer  up !  Cheer  up !  '• 
With  a  fervor  much  sweeter  than  art. 

Few  people,  I  know,  praise  your  singing, 
And  I  own  that  your  harsh  vocal  powers 

Can't  compete  with  the  robin's  voice  ringing 
Every  June  in  the  lush  morning  hours  ; 

I  confess  that  the  lark,  upward  winging, 

And  the  bobolink's  silver  throat  flinging 

"Bobolink!  Bobolink!" 
Add  a  charm  to  the  seasons  of  flowers. 

But  when  winds  of  midwinter  were  blo\vir.a 

On 

And  the  window  panes  rattled  with  sleet ; 

And  the  heavens  were  gray,  aud  'twas  snowing, 

What  became  of  those  visitors  sweet  ? 

When  we  need  them  most,  they  were  going, 
But  you  stayed,  your  stout  heart  overflowing 
In  that  ' '  Cheer  up  !  Cheer  up  !  " 

Which  I've  heard  you  so  often  repeat. 

Your  enemies  say  you're  a  fighter. 
Ah,  well,  what  of  that  ?    So  am  I. 

I  will  sing  if  'tis  darker  or  lighter ; 
You  have  taught  me  a  gay  battle  cry. 
When  fortune's  against  me,  despite  her, 
I  will  wait  for  the  days  that  are  brighter, 
Singing  "  Cheer  up  !  Cheer  up !  " 
I  will  fight  and  will  sing  till  I  die. 

GEORGE;  HORTOIS* 


A  Death-Bed. 

ER  sufferings  ended  with  the  day, 

Yet  lived  she  at  its  close, 
And  breathed  the  long,  long  night  away 
In  statue-like  repose. 

But  when  the  sun  in  all  its  state 

Illumed  the  eastern  skies, 
She  passed  through  Glory's  morning  gate. 

And  walked  in  paradise. 

JAMES  Atr>R;r&. 


614 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


The  Old  World  and  the  BT ew. 


IN  happy  climes  the  seat  of  innocence, 
Where  nature  guides  and  virtue  rules ; 
Where  men  shall  not  impose  for  truth  and  sense 
The  pedantry  of  courts  and  schools  : 

There  Shall  be  sung  another  golden  age, 

The  rise  of  empire  and  of  arts  ; 
The  good  and  great  inspiring  epic  rage, 

The  wisest  heads  and  noblest  hearts. 

Not  such  as  Europe  breeds  in  her  decay,-— 
Such  as  she  bred  when  fresh  and  young, 

When  heavenly  flame  did  animate  her  clay, 
By  future  poets  shall  be  sung. 

Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way  • 

The  four  first  acts  already  past, 
JV  fifth  shall  close  the  drama  with  the  day  ; 

•  une's  noblest  offspring  is  his  last. 

GEORGE  BERKELEY. 


The  Old  Barn. 

IE  barn,  the  old  barn,  oh  !  its  dark  walls  were  rife 
With  the  records  most  fair  in  my  tablet  of  life  ; 
And  a  rare  barn  it  was,  for  search  twenty  miles 
round, 
Such  another  brave  building  was  not  to  be  found. 

'Twas  large  as  an  ark,  'twas  as  strong  as  a  church, 
"Twas  the  chicken's  resort,  'twas  the  young  raven's 

perch ; 
There  the  bat  flapped  his  wings,  and  the  owlet  might 

screech, 
Secure  in  the  gable-ends,  far  out  of  reach. 

For  many  a  year  had  the  harvest-home  wain 
Creaked  up  to  its  door  with  the  last  load  of  grain  ; 
And  'twas  evident  time  had  been  playing  his  pranks 
With  the  moss-garnished  roof  and  the  storm-beaten 
planks. 

A  wee  thing,  they  tumbled  me  into  its  mow ; 
And  left  me  to  scramble  out,  Heaven  knows  how, 
A  wild,  merry  girl,  the  old  barn  was  the  spot 
Which  afforded  delight  that  is  still  unforgot. 

'Twas  a  birthday,  one  scion  was  walking  life's  stage, 
In  youth's  proudest  of  characters— just  come  of  age  ; 
Many  joys  were  devised — but  the  chosen  of  all 
Was  to  clear  out  the  old  barn,  and  "  get  up  a  ball." 

We  had  prayed,  we  had  hoped  that  the  lanes  might  be 

dry, 

That  no  cloud  would  come  over  the  moon-lighted  sky ; 
But,  alas !  'twas  November,  and  fog,  sleet,  and  gloom 
Made  the  night  of  our  jubilee  dark  as  the  tomb. 


But,    hark! — what    loud    voices — what    rumbling    of 

wheels — 

What  stepping  in  puddles — what  tragical  "  squeals  !'• 
While  close-tilted  wagons  and  mud-spattered  carts 
Set  down  a  rare  cargo  of  happy  young  hearts. 

What  a  dance  was  the  first — with  what  pleasure  we 

went 

Down  the  middle  and  up,  till  our  breathing  was  spent ! 
Though  Musard  might  have  shrugged  at  a  bit  of  a  strife 
'Twixt  the  notes  of  the  fiddle  and  key  of  the  fife. 

Then  the  rat-hunt — oh,  mercy !  we  hear  poets  speak 
Of  the  tug  of  fierce  battle  when  "Greek  joins  with 

Greek;" 

But  war  held  as  wild  and  as  deadly  a  reign 
When  the  terriers  met  the  destroyers  of  grain. 

The  smith  left  his  bellows — the  miller  his  sack, — 
It  was  lucky  that  business  grew  suddenly  slack  ; 
The  thatcher  was  there,  and  the  thatcher's  boy  too, 
And  somehow,  the  butcher  had  nothing  to  do. 

The  Squire  lent  his  whip  and  his  voice  to  the  fray  ; 
He,  of  course,  only  "chanced  to  be  riding  that  way  ;" 
And  the  master — the  ploughman — the  rich  and  the  poor, 
Stood  equality's  jostling  about  the  barn  door. 

There  was  bustling  old  Pincher,  all  fierceness  and  bark  ; 
And  even  fat  Dido,  as  gay  as  a  lark  ; 
Snap,  Vixen,  and  Bob,  and  another  full  score, 
For  though  rats  might  be  many — the  dogs  were  oft 
more. 

The  barn  was  the  place  where  the  beams  and  the  rope 

Gave  our  mischievous  faculties  plenty  of  scope  ; 

And  when  rick-lines  were  found,  knotted,  severed,  and 

frayed ; 
Not  a  word  did  we  breathe  of  the  swings  we  had  made* 

"  Hide  and  seek"  was  the  game  that  delighted  us  most, 
When  we  stealthily  crept  behind  pillar  and  post ; 
When  the  law  was  enforced  that  "home"  should  not 

be  won 
Before  we'd  encircled  the  barn  in  our  run. 

I'd  a  merry  heart  then — but  I  scarcely  know  why 
I  should  look  into  memory's  page  with  a  sigh  ; 
'Tis  ungrateful  to  turn  to  the  past  with  regret, 
When  we  hold  a  fair  portion  of  happiness  yet. 

My  laugh  in  that  day  was  a  spirited  shout, 

But  still  it  is  heard  to  ring  joyously  out ; 

My  friends  were  the  warmest  that  childhood  could  find, 

But  those  round  me  still  are  endearingly  kind. 

"  Long  ago"  has  too  often  awakened  my  soul, 

Till  my  brow  gathered  shade,  and  the  tear-drop  would 

roll; 

Down,  down,  busy  thought,  for  the  future  maybe 
As  bright  as  the  time  of  the  old  barn  for  me. 

EUZA  COOK. 


)ICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


615 


Tlie  Sunbeam's  Mission. 

time  ago,  when  this  old  world  was  young, 
A    sunbeam   from    God's    lighthouse    blithely 

sprung 

Out  into  space,  and  searched  through  earth  and  sky 
For  homely  things  to  gild  and  glorify ; 
It  brightened  up  the  days  serene  and  fair, 
It  danced  with  other  sunbeams  frolics  rare, 
It  paled  within  the  noon  sun's  steady  glare. 
But  testing  all  effects  and  searching  round, 
Its  best  results  in  strangest  things  it  found, 
It  made  a  diamond  of  a  tear  of  pain, 
Transforming  griefs  into  prismatic  rain  ; 
It  formed  in  dusty  mills  red  golden  bars, 
Transformed  rude  boats  into  illumined  cars 
And  made  of  raindrops  brilliant  falling  stars. 
Far  out  at  sea  it  glowed,  deep,  rich  and  warm, 
In  heart  of  spray  cast  up  by  wind  and  storm  ; 
High  up  on  mountains  touched  the  pale,  dead  snow 
With  swift  enchantment  into  warmest  glow  ; 
It  made  of  mists  strange  forms  with  gilded  wings  ; 
In  gloomy  caves — where  silent  darkness  clings — 
Its  golden  fingers  searched  for  hidden  things. 
But,  better  still,  one  day  a  cloud  it  met — 
A  sombre  pall  with  surface  black  as  jet — 
And  straightway  o'er  its  velvet  surface  tract.-. 
With  threads  of  gold  and  crimson  interlaced, 
Such  grand  designs  as  earth  had  never  known, 
Such  rich  effects  of  color  and  of  tone, 
It  seemed  a  copy  of  God's  very  throne. 
Its  darkling  fleeces  turned  to  molten  gold, 
Its  deep  recesses — lined  and  crimson  scrolled — 
Its  billowy  banks,  with  marvels  richly  spread, 
Of  priceless  gems  upon  a  priceless  bed 
Of  curve  and  color,  joined  with  matchless  grace, 
Until  the  awe-struck  soul  could  plainly  trace 
Heaven's  splendors  mirrored  on  the  sky's  broad  face. 
And  so  throughout  succeeding  days  and  years 
Sunbeams  love  best  to  glow  in  falling  tears  ; 
To  change  to  gold  the  chill,  swift-falling  rain, 
To  forge  gold  bars  in  dark  abodes  of  pain, 
And,  finding  those  in  gloom,  to  visit  such 
With  kindly  light,  with  magic  skill  and  touch 
Transforming  ills  which  haunt  them  over  much. 
Then,  best  of  all,  when  veiled  in  darkling  clouds, 
Which  seem  to  wrap  the  world  in  ebon  shrouds, 
The  sunbeams  love  its  blackness  to  transform 
To  dreamlike  beauty,  rich  and  glad  and  warm ; 
God's  promise  in  its  grandeur  glorified, 
While  light  from  heaven's  gold  streets,  a  radiant  tide, 
Sifts  through  the  blessings  to  its  earthly  side. 
And  so  the  heaven-light's  richest  work  appears 
On  darkest  clouds,  enshrined  in  hearts  of  tears  ; 
Ix>ve's  pattern  woven  into  lives  and  years. 

I.  EDGAR  JONES. 


The  Fossil  Raindrops. 

kVE)R  the  quarry  the  children  went  rambling, 

Hunting  for  stones  to  skip, 
Into  the  clefts  and  crevices  scrambling, 
Searching  the  quarrymen's  chip. 

Sweet  were  their  voices  and  gay  was  their  laughter, 

That  holiday  afternoon, 
One  tumbled  down  and  the  rest  tumbled  after, 

All  of  them  singing  one  tune. 

Here  was  a  stone  would  skip  like  a  bubble, 

Once  were  it  loosed  from  its  place, — 
See  what  strange  lines,  all  aslant,  all  a-trouble, 

Covered  over  its  face. 

For  a  half  moment  their  wonder  is  smitten, 

Nor  divine  they  at  all 

That  soft  earth  it  was  when  those  slant  lines  werfe 
written 

By  the  rain's  gusty  fall. 

Nor  guess  they,  while  pausing  to  look  at  it  plainly, 

The  least  in  the  world  perplexed, 
That  the  page  which  old  Merlin  studied  vainly 
Had  never  such  wizard  text. 

Only  a  stone  o'er  the  placid  pool  throwing, 

Ah — but  it  told  them,  though, 
How  the  rain  was  falling,  the  wind  was  blowing, 

Ten  thousand  years  ago. 

HARRIET  PRESCOTT  SPOFFORD. 


The  Turn  of  Summer. 

/^\AST  night  the  scented  air  of  summer  brought  ttfi 
|^<     sleep 

Of  summer  at  the  full.    The  passion  flower 
Flared  open  on  the  vine  ;  the  blood  red-rose 
Drank  the  mid-summer  dew  and  was  not  satisfied. 
The  present  time  was  all — earth  held  no  promises 
Since  pleasure's  wishes  were  completely  filled. 
With  dawn  a  languor  sways  the  breeze,  a  softness  clings 
About  the  landscape,  while  the  year,  with  fickle  pulse. 
Weary  of  bloom,  begins  to  live  for  fruit. 
Hope  now  is  born  at  turning  of  the  tide, 
And  spreads  her  lure  along  the  gauzy  lines 
Of  spider  webs  between  the  blades  of  grass, 
But  nowhere  startles  us  a  sudden  change  ; 
New  buds  are  bursting  by  the  dropping  flowers, 
And  birds,  plumed  for  the  South,  pipe  'fresh  their  songs 
That  rise  upon  the  low  sweet  summer  gale 
As  bubbles  through  the  amber  wine  ascend, 
The  business  of  the  summer  still  goes  on, 
And  yet  the  fall  is  here.     The  turn  has  come, 
Night-hidden  messengers  hare  touched  the  scene; 
And  in  the  morning  when  we  greet,  we  say, 
"  My  love,  my  dear,  the  summer  days  have  been." 
AUGUSTUS  RADCUFFF, 


6i6 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


To-day  and  To-morrow. 

i  IGH  hopes  that  bum  like  stars  sublime, 

Go  down  the  heavens  of  freedom  ; 
And  true  hearts  perish  in  the  time 
We  bitterliest  need  'em  ! 
But  never  sit  we  down  and  say, 

"  There's  nothing  left  but  sorrow  :" 
We  walk  the  Wilderness  to-day — 
The  Promised  Land  to-morrow. 

Our  birds  of  song  are  silent  now ; 

There  are  no  flowers  blooming ! 
But  life  burns  in  the  frozen  bough, 

And  Freedom's  spring  is  coming! 
And  Freedom's  tide  comes  up  alway, 

Though  we  may  strand  in  sorrow ' 
And  our  good  bark,  aground  to-day  ^ 

Shall  float  again  to-morrow  I 

Through  all  the  long,  drear  night  of  years 

The  people's  cry  ascendeth, 
And  earth  is  wet  with  blood  and  tears, 

But  our  meek  suffering  endeth  ! 
fhe  few  shall  not  forever  sway, 

The  many  toil  in  sorrow  : 
The  powers  of  hell  are  strong  to-day, 

But  Christ  shall  rise  to-morrow  ! 

Though  hearts  brood  o'er  the  past,  our  eyes 

With  smiling  futures  glisten  : 
For  lo  !  our  day  bursts  up  the  skies — 

Lean  out  our  souls  and  listen  ! 
The  world  rolls  Freedom's  radiant  way, 

And  ripens  with  her  sorrow  : 
Keep  heart !  who  bear  the  cross  to-day 

Shall  wear  the  crown  to-morrow  ! 

O,  Youth,  flame-earnest,  still  aspire 

With  energies  immortal ! 
To  many  a  heaven  of  desire 

Our  yearning  opes  a  portal ! 
And  though  Age  wearies  by  the  way. 

And  hearts  break  in  the  furrow, 
We'll  sow  the  golden  grain  to-day — 

The  harvest  comes  to-morrow. 

Build  up  heroic  lives,  and  all 

Be  like  the  sheathen  sabre, 
Ready  to  flash  out  at  God's  call — 

O !  Chivalry  of  labor ! 
Triumph  and  Toil  are  twins — and  aye 

Joy  suns  the  cloud  of  sorrow  ; 
And  'tis  the  martyrdom  to-day 

Brings  victory  to-morrow  ! 

MASSEY. 


WMsperin'  Bill. 

^O  you're  takin'  the  census,  mister?  There's  three 
(c)y  ofuslivin'  still, 

My  wife,  and  I,  an'  our  only  son,  that  folks  call 

Whisperin'  Bill ; 
But  Bill  couldn't  tell  ye  his  name,  sir,an'  so  it's  hardly 

worth  givin', 

For  ye  see  a  bullet  killed  his  mind  an'  left  his  body 
livin'. 

Set  down  fer  a  minute,  mister.      Ye  see  Bill  was  only 

fifteen 
At  the  time  of  the  war,  an'  as  likely  a  boy  as  ever  this 

world  lias  seen  ; 
.An'  what  with  the  news  o'  battles  lost,  the  speeches 

an'  all  the  noise, 
I  guess  every  farm  in  the  neighborhood  lost  a  part  of 

its  crop  o'  boys. 

'Twac  harvest  time  when  Bill  left  home  ;    every  stalk 

in  the  fields  of  rye 
Seemed  to  stand  tiptoe  to  see  him  off  an'  wave  him  a 

fond  good-bye  ; 
His  sweetheart  was  here  with  some  other  girls, — the 

sassy  little  miss  ! 
An'  pretendin'  she  wanted  to  whisper  'n  his  ear,  she 

gave  him  a  rousin'  kiss. 

Oh,  he  was  a  han'some  feller,  an'  tender  an'  brave  an' 

smart, 
An"  tho'  he  \vaa  Linger  tliaa   I   \vas,   the  boy  had  a 

woman's  heart. 
I  couldn't  control  my  feelin's,  but  I  tried  with  all  my 

might, 
An'  his  mother  an'  me  stood  a-cryin'  till  Bill  was  out 

o'  sight. 

His  mother  she  often  told  him  when  she  knew  he  was 

goin'  away 
That  God  would  take  care  o'  him,  maybe,  if  he  didn't 

fergit  to  pray  ; 
An'  on  the  bloodiest  battle-fields,  when  bullets  whizzed 

in  the  air, 
An'  Bill  was  a-fightin'  desperate,  he  used  to  whisper  a 

prayer. 

Oh,  his  comrades  has  often  told  me  that  Bill  never 

flinched  a  bit 
When  every  second  a  gap  in  the  ranks  told  where  a 

ball  had  hit. 
An'  one  night  when  the  field  was  covered  with  the 

awful  harvest  of  war, 
They  found  my  boy  'mongst  the  martyrs  o'  the  ciiuse 

he  was  fightin'  for. 

His  fingers  were  clutched  in  the  dewy  grass— oh,  no. 

sir,  he  wasn't  dead, 
But  he  lay  sort  o'  helpless  an'  crazy  with  a  rifle  ball 

in  his  head. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


617 


An'  if  Bill  had  really  died  that  night  I'd  give  all  I've 

got  worth  givin'  ; 
For  ye  see  the  bullet  had  killed  his  mind  an'  left  his 

body  livin'. 

An  officer  wrote  and  told  us  how  the  boy  had  been 

hurt  in  the  fight, 
But  he  said  that  the  doctors  reckoned  they  could  bring 

him  around  all  right. 
An'  then  we  heard  from  a  neighbor,  disabled  at  Mal- 

vern  Hill, 
That  he  thought  in  a  course  of  a  week  or  so  he'd  be 

comin'  home  with  Bill. 

We  was  that  anxious  t'  see  him  we'd  set  up  an'  talk  o' 

nights 
Till  the  break  o'  day  had  dimmed  the  stars  an'  put  out 

the  northern  lights  ; 
We  waited  and  watched  for  a  month  or  more,  an'  the 

summer  was  nearly  past, 
When  a  letter  came  one  day  that  said  they'd  started 

fer  home  at  last. 

I'll  never  fergitthe  day  Bill  came, — 'twas  harvest  time 

again  ; 
An'  the  air  blown  over  the  yellow  fields  was  sweet 

with  the  scent  o'  the  grain  ; 
The  dooryard  was  full  o'  the  neighbors,  who  had  come 

to  share  our  joy, 
An'  all  of  us  sent  up  a  mighty  cheer  at  the  sight  o'  that 

soldier  boy. 

An' all  of  a  sudden  somebody  said  :    "My  God  !    don't 

the  boy  know  his  mother  ?" 
An'  Bill  stood  a-whisperin',  fearful  like,  an'  starin' 

from  one  to  another  ; 
"Don't  be  afraid,  Bill,"  said  he  to  himself,  as  he  stood 

in  his  coat  o'  blue, 
"Why,  God'll  take  care  o'  you,  Bill,  God'll  take  care 

o'  you." 

He  seemed  to  be  loadin'  an'  firm'  a  gun,  an'  to  act 
like  a  man  who  hears 

The  awful  roar  o'  the  battlefield  a-soundin'  in  his 
ears ; 

I  saw  that  the  bullet  had  touched  his  brain  an'  some 
how  made  it  blind, 

With  the  picture  o'  war  before  his  eyes  an'  the  fear  o' 
death  in  his  mind. 

I  grasped  his  hand,   an'   says   I   to   Bill,    "Don't  ye 

remember  me  ? 
I'm  yer  father — don't  ye  know  nie  ?   How  frightened 

ye  seem  to  be  !" 
But  the  boy  kep'  a-whisperin'  to  himself,  as  if  'twas 

all  he  knew, 
•God'll  take  care  o'  you,  Bill,  God '11  take  care  o'  you." 


He's  never  known  us  since  that  day,  nor  his  sweet 
heart,  an'  never  will  ; 

Father  an'  mother  an"  sweetheart  are  all  the  same  to 
Bill. 

An'  many's  the  time  his  mother  sets  up  the  whole 
night  throiigh, 

An'  smooths  his  head,  and  says  :  "Yes,  Bills  God'll 
take  care  o'  you." 

Unfortunit?  Yes,  but  we  can't  complain.     It's  a  livin' 

death  more  sad 
When  the  body  clings  to  a  life  o'  shame  air   the  soul 

has  gone  to  the  bad  ; 
An'  Bill  is  out  o'  the  reach  o'  harm  an'  danger  of  every 

kind ; 
We  only  take  care  of  his  body,  but  God  takes  care  o' 

his  mind. 

IRVING 


"I  Live  for  Thee." 

OME  the}'  brought  her  warrior  dead  : 

She  nor  swoon 'd  nor  utter 'd  cry  : 
All  her  maidens,  watching,  said, 
"  She  must  weep  or  she  will  die." 

Then  they  praised  him,  soft  and  low, 
Called  him  worthy  to  be  loved, 

Truest  friend  and  noblest  foe  ; 

Yet  she  neither  spoke  nor  moved. 

Stole  a  maiden  from  her  place, 

Lightly  to  the  warrior  stept, 
Took  the  face-cloth  from  the  face  ; 

Yet  she  neither  moved  nor  wept. 

Rose  a  nurse  of  ninety  years, 

Set  his  child  upon  her  knee — 
Like  summer  tempest  came  her  tears — 
"  Sweet  my  child,  I  live  for  thee." 

TENNYSON. 


Go  By. 

I  OMB  not,  when  I  am  dead, 

To  drop  thy  foolish  tears  upon  my  grave, 
To  trample  round  my  fallen  head, 
And  vex  the  unhappy  dust  thou  wouldst  not  save. 
There  let  the  wind  sweep  and  the  plover  cry  ; 
But  thou,  go  by. 

Child,  if  it  were  thine  error  or  thy  crime 

I  care  no  longer,  being  all  unblest: 
Wed  whom  thou  wilt,  but  I  am  sick  of  Time, 

And  I  desire  to  rest. 
Pass  on,  weak  heart,  and  leave  me  where  I  lie  : 

Go  by,  go  by. 

ALFRED  TENNYSON, 


6i8  CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 

The  Farmer's  House. 

\IRMLY  builded  with  rafters  of  oak,  the  house  of 

the  farmer 
Stood  on  the  side  of  a  hill  cernmanding  the  sea  ; 

and  a  shady 

Sycamore  grew  by  the  door,  with  a  woodbine  wreath 
ing  around  it. 
Rudely  carved  was  the  porch,  with  seats  beneath  ;  and 

a  footpath 
Led  through  an  orchard  wide,  and  disappeared  in  the 

meadow. 
Under  the  sycamore-tree  were   hives   overhung  by  a 

penthouse, 
Such  as  the  traveler  sees  in  regions  remote  by   the 

roadside, 
Built  o'er  a  box  for  the  poor,  or  the  blessed  image  of 

Mary. 
Farther  down,  on  the  slope  of  the  hill,  was  the  -well 

with  its  moss-growa 
Bucket,  fastened  with  iron,  and  near  it  a  trough   for 

the  horses. 
Shielding  the  house  from  storms,  on  the  north,  were 

the  barns  and  the  farm-yard, 
There  stood  the  broad-wheeled  wains  and  the  antique 

ploughs  and  the  harrows ; 
There  were  the  folds  for  the  sheep  ;  and  there,  in  his 

feathered  seraglio, 
Strutted  the  lordly  turkey,  and  crowed  the  cock,  with 

the  self-same 
Voice  that  in  ages  of   old  had  startled  the  penitent 

Peter. 
Bursting  with  hay  were  the  barns,  themselves  a  village. 

In  each  one 
Far  o'er  the  gable  projected  a  roof  of  thatch ;    and  a 

staircase, 

Under  the  sheltering  eaves,  led  up  to  the  odorous  corn- 
loft. 

There,  too,  the  dove-cot  stood,  with  its  meek  and  inno 
cent  inmates 
Murmuring  ever  of  love ;  while  above  in  the  variant 

breezes 
Numberless  noisy  weather-cocks  rattled  and  sang  of 

mutation. 

HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW. 


Life. 

World's  a  bubble,  and  the  Life  of  Man 

Less  than  a  span : 
In  his  conception  wretched,  from  the  womb 

So  to  the  tomb ; 
Curst  from  his  cradle,  and  brought  up  to  years 

With  cares  and  fears. 
Who  then  to  frail  mortality  shall  trust, 
But  limns  on  water,  or  but  writes  in  dust. 


Yet  whilst  with  sorrow  here  we  live  opprest, 

What  life  is  best  ? 
Courts  are  but  only  superficial  schools 

To  dandle  fools : 
The  rural  parts  are  turned  into  a  den 

Of  savage  men : 

And  where's  a  city  from  foul  vice  so  free, 
But  may  be  termed  the  worst  of  all  the  three? 

Domestic  cares  afflict  the  husband's  bed, 

Or  pains  his  head . 
Those  that  live  single,  take  it  for  a  curse, 

Or  do  things  worse : 
Some  would  have  children :  those  that  have  them,  moan 

Or  wish  them  gone : 

What  is  it,  then,  to  have,  or  have  no  wife, 
But  single  thraldom,  or  a  double  strife  ? 

Our  own  affections  still  at  home  to  please 

Is  a  disease . 
To  cross  the  seas  to  any  foreign  soil, 

Peril  and  toil : 
Wars  with  their  noise  affright  us  ;  when  they  cease, 

We  are  worse  in  peace  : 

What  then  remains,  but  that  we  still  should  cry 
For  being  born,  or,  being  born,  to  die? 

LOR!>  BACOI* 


The  Good. 


HAT  is  the  real  good?  " 
I  asked  in  musing  mood. 
Order,  said  the  law  court ; 

.Knowledge,  said  the  school ; 

Truth,  said  the  wise  man  ; 

Pleasure,  said  the  fool ; 

Love,  said  the  maiden  ; 

Beauty,  said  the  page  ; 

Freedom,  said  the  dreamer ; 

Home,  said  the  sage  ; 

Fame,  said  the  soldier ; 

Equity,  the  seer ; — 


Spake  my  heart  full  sadly  ; 
"  The  answer  is  not  here. " 

Then  within  my  bosom 
Softly  this  I  heard : 
"  Each  heart  holds  the  secret ; 
Kindness  is  the  word." 


J.  BOYLE  O'REiU-V. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


619 


l>eath-Song  of  the  Oneida  Chief. 

ND  I  could  weep ;  " — the  Oueida  chief 
His  descant  wildly  thus  began  : 

"  But  that  I  may  not  stain  with  grief 
The  death -song  of  my  father's  son, 
Or  bow  this  head  in  woe  ! 
For  by  my  wrongs,  and  by  my  wrath  ! 
To-morrow  Areouski's  breath, 
(That  fires  yon  heaven  with  storms  of  death,) 
Shall  light  us  to  the  foe  ; 
And  we  shall  share,  my  Christian  boy ! 
The  foeman's  blood,  the  avenger's  joy  ! 

**  But  thee,  my  flo.wer,  whose  breath  was  given 
By  milder  genii  o'er  the  deep, 
The  spirits  of  the  white  man's  heaven 
Forbid  not  thee  to  weep  : 
Nor  will  the  Christian  host, 
Nor  will  thy  father's  spirit  grieve, 
To  see  thee,  on  the  battle's  eve, 
Lamenting,  take  a  mournful  leave 
Of  her  who  loved  thee  most : 
She  was  the  rainbow  to  thy  sight ! 
Thy  sun — thy  heaven — of  lost  delight ! 

"  To-morrow  let  us  do  or  die  ! 
But  when  the  bolt  of  death  is  hurled, 
Ah !  whither  then  with  thee  to  fly, 
Shall  Outalissi  roam  the  world  ? 
Seek  we  thy  once-loved  home  ? 
The  hand  is  gone  that  cropt  its  flowers  : 
Unheard  their  clock  repeats  its  hours  ! 
Cold  is  the  hearth  within  their  bowers  I 
And  should  we  thither  roam, 
Its  echoes,  and  its  empty  tread, 
Would  sound  like  voices  from  the  dead  1 

"  Or  shall  we  cross  yon  mountains  blue, 
Whose  streams  my  kindred  nation  quaffed ; 
And  by  my  side,  in  battle  true, 
A  thousand  warriors  drew  the  shaft  ? 
Ah !  there  in  desolation  cold, 
The  desert  serpent  dwells  alone, 
Where  grass  o'ergrows  each  mouldering  bone, 
And  stones  themselves  to  ruin  grown, 
Like  me,  are  death-like  old. 
Then  seek  we  not  their  camp — for  there 
The  silence  dwells  of  my  despair ! 

*;*  But  hark,  the  trump  !  to-morrow  thou 
In  glory's  fires  shalt  dry  thy  tears  : 
Even  from  the  land  of  shadows  now 
My  father's  awful  ghost  appears 
Amidst  the  clouds  that  round  us  roll ! 
He  bids  my  soul  for  battle  thirst ; 
He  bids  me  dry  the  last,  the  first, 


The  only  tears  that  ever  burst 
From  Outalissi 's  soul  ; 
Because  I  may  not  stain  with  grief 
The  death-song  of  an  Indian  chief!" 

THOMAS  CAMPBEM* 


The  Auctioneer's  Gift. 

auctioneer  leaped  on  a  chair,  and  bold  and 
loud  and  clear, 
He  poured  his  cataract  of  words,— just  like  an 
auctioneer. 

An  auction  sale  of  furniture,  where  some  hard  mort 
gagee 

Was  bound  to  get  his  money  back  and  pay  his  lawyer's 
fee. 

A  humorist  of  wide  renown,  this  doughty  auction 
eer ; 

His  joking  raised  the  loud  guffaw,  and  brought  the 
answering  jeer; 

He  scattered  round  his  jests  like  rain,  on  the  unjust 
and  the  just ; 

Sam  Sleeman  said  he  laughed  so  much  he  thought 
that  he  would  bust. 

He  knocked  down  bureaus,  beds  and  stoves,  and 
clocks  and  chandeliers, 

And  a  grand  piano,  which  he  swore  would  "last  a  thou 
sand  years ; ' ' 

He  rattled  out  the  crockery,  and  sold  the  silverware ; 

At  last  they  passed  him  up  to  sell  a  little  baby's  chair. 

"How  much?   how  much?   come  make  a  bid;   is  all 

your  money  spent?" 
And  then  a  cheap,  facetious  wag  came  up  and  bid,  :'oiie 

cent." 
Just  then  a  sad-faced  woman,  who  stood  in  silence 

there, 
Broke  down  and  cried,  "My  baby's  chair!     My  poor, 

dead  baby's  chair !" 

"Here,  madam,  take  your  baby's  chair,"  said  the  soft 
ened  auctioneer, 

"I  know  its  value  all  too  well;  my  baby  died  last 
year; 

And  if  the  owner  of  the  chair,  our  friend,  the  mort 
gagee, 

Objects  to  this  proceeding,  let  him  send  the  bill  to  me  I*' 

Gone  was  the  tone  of  raillery ;  the  humorist  auction 
eer 

Turned  shame-faced  from  his  audience  to  brush  aside 
a  tear ; 

The  laughing  crowd  was  awed  and  still,  no  tearless  eye 
was  there 

When  tb«*  weeping  woman  reached  and  took  her  little 
baby's  Chair.  S.  W.  FOSS. 


620 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


"Flag  the  Train." 

The  last  words  of  Engineer  Edward  Kennar,  who  died  in  a 
milroad  accident  near  St  Johnsville,  N.  Y.,  April  18, 1887. 

I O,  flag  the  train,  boys,  flag  the  train  ! 

|Nor  waste  the  time  on  me  ; 

But  leave  me  by  my  shattered  cab ; 
'Tis  better  thus  to  be  ! 
It  was  an  awful  leap,  boys, 
But  the  worst  of  it  is  o'er  ; 
I  hear  the  Great  Conductor's  call 
Sound  from  the  farther  shore. 

I  hear  sweet  notes  of  angels,  boys, 
That  seem  to  say  :   "  Well  done  !" 
I  see  a  golden  city  there, 
Bathed  in  a  deathless  sun  ; 
There  is  no  night,  nor  sorrow,  1">ovs, 
No  wounds  nor  bruises  there ; 
The  way  is  clear — the  engineer 
Rests  from  his  life's  long  care. 

Ah  !  'twas  a  fearful  plunge,  my  lads ; 

I  saw,  as  in  a  dream, 

Those  dear,  dear  faces  looming  up 

In  yonder  snowy  stream  ; 

Down  in  the  Mohawk's  peaceful  depths 

Their  image  rose  and  smiled, 

E'en  as  we  took  the  fatal  leap ; 

Oh  God — my  wife  !  my  child  ! 

Well,  never  mind  !  I  ne'er  shall  sc^ 

That  wife  and  child  again  ; 

But  hasten,  hasten,  leave  me,  boys ! 

For  God's  sake,  flag  the  train  ! 

Farewell,  bright  Mohawk  !  and  farewell 

My  cab,  my  comrades  all ; 

I'm  done  for,  boys,  but  hasten  on, 

And  sound  the  warning  call  I 

Oh,  what  a  strange,  strange  tremor  this 
That  steals  unceasing  on  ! 
Will  those  dear  ones  I've  cherished  so 
Be  cared  for  when  I'm  gone? 
Farewell,  ye  best  beloved,  farewell ! 
I've  died  not  all  in  vain — 
Thank  God  !  The  other  lives  are  saved  ; 
k  God !  They've  flagged  the  train  ! 

WILLIAM  B.  CHISHOI.M. 


He  grumbled  at  this  ;  he  grumbled  at  that  ; 
He  growled  at  the  dog;  he  growled  ct  the  cat  ; 
He  grumbled  at  morning  ;  he  grumbled  at  night  ; 
And  to  grumble  and  growl  were  his  chief  delight 

He  grumbled  so  much  at  his  wife  that  she 

Began  to  grumble  as  well  as  he  ; 

And  all  the  children,  wherever  they  went, 

Reflected  their  parents'  discontent. 

If  the  sky  was  dark  and  betokened  rain, 

Then  Mr.  Homer  was  sure  to  complain  ; 

And  if  there  was  never  a  cloud  about, 

He'd  grumble  because  of  the  threatened 

His  meals  were  never  to  suit  his  taste  ; 
He  grumbled  at  having  to  eat  in  haste  ; 
The  bread  was  poor,  or  the  meat  was  tough 
Or  else  he  hadn't  had  half  enough. 
No  matter  how  hard  his  wife  might  try 
To  please  her  husband,  with  scornful  eye 
He'd  look  around,  and  then  with  a  scowl 
At  something  or  other  begin  to  growl. 

One  day,  as  I  loitered  along  the  street, 
My  old  acquaintance  I  chanced  to  meet, 
Whose  face  was  without  the  look  of  care 
And  the  ugly  frown  that  it  used  to  wear. 
"  I  may  be  mistaken,  perhaps,"  I  said, 
As,  after  saluting,  I  turned  my  head  ; 
"  But  it  is,  and  it  isn't,  the  Mr.  Homer 
Who  lived  so  ^ug  on  Grumble  Corner  !" 


Grumble  Corner  and  Thanksgiving  Street. 

(KNEW  a  man  whose  name  UBS  Homer, 
Who  used  to  live  on  Grumble  Corner ; 
Grumble  Corner,  in  Cross-Patch  Town, 
And  he  was  never  seen  without  a  frown. 


I  met  him  next  day  ;  and  I  met  him  again  , 

In  melting  weather,  in  pouring  rain  ; 

When  stocks  were  up  and  when  stocks  were  1own  ; 

But  a  smile  somehow  had  replaced  the  frown- 

It  puzzled  me  much,  and  so,  one  day, 

I  seized  his  hand  in  a  friendly  way, 

And  said,  "Mr.  Horner,  I'd  like  to  know 

What  has  happened  to  change  you  so?" 

He  laughed  a  laugh  that  was  good  to  hear, 

For  it  told  of  a  conscience  calm  and  clear  ; 

And  he  said,  with  none  of  the  old-time  drawl, 

"  Why,  I've  changed  my  residence,  that  is  all  r" 

"Changed  your  residence?"     "Yes,"  said  Horn^ 

"  It  wasn't  healthy  on  Grumble  Corner, 

And  so  I  moved  ;  'twas  a  change  complete  ; 

And  you'll  find  me  now  on  Thanksgiving  Street-*' 

Now  every  day  as  I  move  along 

The  streets  so  filled  with  the  busy  throng, 

I  watch  each  face,  and  can  always  tell 

Where  men  and  women  and  children  dwell  , 

And  many  a  discontened  mourner 

Is  spending  his  days  on  Grumble  Corner, 

Sour  and  sad,  whom  I  long  to  entreat 

To  take  a  house  on  Thanksgiving  Street. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


621 


Old  Friends. 

/AS  on  a  cold  and  frosty  night  when  snow  and 
hail  fast  fell, 
And  winter's  chilling,  wailing  winds  swept  over 
hill  and  dell ; 

When  people  who  had  happy  homes  to  blazing  hearth 
stones  hied, 
-\nd  the  wretched,  houseless  outcast  in  the  bare  street, 

frozen,  died, 

That  an  aged,  sightless  beggar  trudged  along  a  coun 
try  road, 

With  a  face  by  sorrow  furrowed  and  back  bent  with 
life's  load. 

His  tattered  cap  and  ragged  coat  did  many  patches 
show, 

And  his  wretched  shoes,  all  cut  and  torn,  let  in  the 
rain  and  snow. 

Before  him  walked  the  faithful  dog  that  always  led  the 
way, 

And  was  the  only  guide  and  friend  he'd  known  for 
many  a  day, 

Who  often,  too,  by  clever  tricks  would  food  and  lodg 
ing  win, 

The  while  his  master  played  upon  his  treasured  violin. 

Suddenly  the  mastiff  stopped  and  slowly  turned  around, 
And  sunk  down  by  his  master's  feet  upon  the  frozen 

ground. 
The  blind  man  bent  in  pity  o'er  his  faithful  friend  in 

woe, 
And  said,   "Ah,  Jack,  you're  tired;  well,  we'll  rest 

awhile,  then  go 
To  an  inn  where  we'll  get  meat  and  drink,  an.1  place 

to  lay  our  heads ; 
A  warm  spot  by  the  fire  will  do,  we  will  not  ask  for 

beds. 

"  What  could  I  do  without  you  ?  What  would  my  dark 
life  be, 

If  your  bright  eyes  I  did  not  have  to  choose  my  path 
for  me. 

Vou  have,  like  true  and  faithful  friend,  for  me  ill  usage 
borne, 

And  often  got  the  savage  kicks  that  spoke  the  land 
lord's  scorn. 

I'll  ne'er  forget  how  e'en  when  sick  you  would  not 
duty  shirk, 

Though  many  years  ago,  old  friend,  you  were  too  old 
to  work. 

"Why  don't  you  lick  my  hand,  old  boy  ;  how  strange 

you  are  to  me. 
Your  paw   is  stiff,  your  heart  is  still.     Oh,  God !  it 

cannot  be 
That  you  have  diert  and  left  me — no.  no,  you  are  not 

dead- 


God  sees  my  bruised  and  bleeding  heart,  he  sees  my 

old  gray  head. 
He  would  not  leave  me  here  alone  in  the  turmoil  and 

the  strife ; 
He  knows  I  could  not  bear  alone  the  heavy  weight  of 

life." 

He  threw  himself  upon  the  corpse  that  now  was  stiff 

and  cold ; 
Such  grief  and  sorrow  as  he  felt  can  ne'er  by  pen  be 

told. 
With  fatal  aim  this  time  grim  death  had  sent  his  fatal 

dart, 
He  was  too  weak  to  stand  the  blow  ;  it  broke  his  poor 

old  heart. 
For  when,  next   morning,  sunshine  fell  upon  their 

snowy  bed, 
A  traveler  passing  by  the  spot  found  dog  and  master 

dead. 


The  Dog  and  the  Tramp. 

TRAMP  went  up  to  a  cottage  door 
,  To  beg  for  a  couple  o'  dimes  or  more. 

The  cottage  door  was  opened  wide, 
So  he  took  a  cautious  look  inside. 

Then  over  his  features  there  spread  a  grin 
As  he  s>aw  a  lonely  maid  within — 

A  lonely  maid  within  the  gloom 

Of  the  shadiest  part  of  a  shady  room. 

Into  the  room  the  tramper  went ; 
Over  a  dog  the  maiden  bent. 

His  eyes  were  red  and  full  of  fire, 

And  he  viewed  the  tramp  with  evident  ire, 

"Run  for  your  life !"  the  maiden  cried ; 
"  I  clean  forgot  to  have  him  tied  ! 

1 '  Run  for  your  life  through  yonder  door ; 
I  cannot  hold  him  a  minute  more  !" 

Withou;  a  word  he  turned  his  face 

And  leaped  the  fence  with  careless  grace ; 

Then  lightly  along  the  road  he  ran, 
r-ery  much-put-out  young  man. 

The  maiden  loosed  her  bull-dog's  neck, 
And  gazed  at  the  tramp — a  vanishing  speck 

And  peal  after  peal  of  laughter  rent 
The  air  with  the  maiden's  merriment. 

The  dog  was  of  terra-cotta  ware — 

She  won  him  that  week  at  a  lottery  fair. 

EVA  B«3T, 


622 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


Deakin  Brown's  Way. 

^I,D  Deakin  Brown  lives  out  f 'urn  town 
_        About  four  mile  er  so, 

An"  drives  a  spankin'  team  o'  bays 
Wen  he  goes  to  an'  fro ; 
An'  allus  w'en  he  overhauls 

Some  feller  walkin'  on  the  ground, 
He  stops  his  team  and  cramps  around 
An'  calls : 

"Hullo, 
Git  in  an'  hev'  a  lift !" 

You'll  see  'im  sit  an'  chaw  an'  spit, 

An'  saw  upon  the  lines, 
His  joliy  face  so  red  with  pride 

It  reg'lar  glows  and  shines  ; 
Them  bosses  steps  so  gay  an'  high 

An'  tear  along  at  sech  a  gait, 
You'd  scarcely  think  their  owner'd  -wait 
An'  cry: 

"Hullo, 
Git  in  an'  hev'  a  lift !  " 

T'  see  ol'  Brown  a-saggin'  down 
On  one  e'end  o'  the  seat, 
An'  leanin'  sideways  now'n  agin 

To  watch  'em  pick  their  feet, 
You'd  think  ;  "  Here  conies  a  rooral  swell." 
But  my  !  How  quick  your  mind  'ud  flop, 
W'en  Deakin'd  make  them  hosses  stop . 
An'  yell : 

"  Hullo, 
Climb  in  an'  hev'  a  lift !  " 

They's  folks  who  ride  in  all  their  pride 

In  fortune's  rig  on  life's  highway — 
Us  folks  who  trudge  along  afoot 

Ken  see  'em  drive  past  every  day  ; 
They  hain't  like  Deakin  Brown  at  all ; 
It  makes  no  odds  how  tired  ye  git, 
Ye'll  never  see  them  wait  a  bit 
An'  call : 

"Hullo, 
Climb  in  an'  hev'  a  lift !" 

GEORGE  HORTON. 

Going-  on  an  Errand. 

POUND  of  tea  at  one-and-three, 

And  a  pot  of  raspberry  jam, 
Two  new-laid  eggs,  a  dozen  pegs, 
And  a  pound  of  rashers  of  ham." 

ni  say  it  over  all  the  way, 
And  then  I'm  sure  not  to  forget, 

Por  if  I  chance  to  bring  things  wrong 
My  mother  gets  in  such  a  pet. 


"  A  pound  of  tea  at  one-and-three, 

And  a  pot  of  raspberry  jam, 
Two  new-laid  eggs,  a  dozen  pegs, 
And  a  pound  of  rashers  of  ham." 

There  in  the  hay  the  children  play— 
They're  having  such  jolly  fun  ; 

I'll  go  there,  too,  that's  what  I'll  do, 
As  soon  as  my  errands  are  done. 

"  A  pound  of  tea  at  one-and-three, 

A  pot  of — er — new-laid  jam, 
Two  raspberry  eggs,  with  a  dozen  pegs. 
And  a  pound  of  rashers  of  ham." 

There's  Teddy  White  a-flying  his  kite 
He  thinks  himself  grand,  I  declare  ; 

I'd  like  to  try  to  fly  it  sky  high, 
Ever  so  much  higher 
Than  the  old  church  spire, 

And  then — and  then — but  there — 

"  A  pound  of  three  and  one  at  tea, 

A  pot  of  new-laid  jam, 
Two  dozen  eggs,  some  raspberry  pegs, 
And  a  pound  of  rashers  of  ham." 

Now  here's  the  shop,  outside  I'll  stop, 
And  run  through  my  orders  again  ; 

I  haven't  forgot — no,  ne'er  a  jot — 
It  shows  I'm  pretty  cute,  that's  pla'n 

"A  pound  of  three  at  one  and  tea, 

A  dozen  of  raspberry  ham, 
A  pot  of  eggs,  with  a  dozen  pegs, 
And  a  rasher  of  new-laid  jam." 


Forgotten. 

I  am  dead,  my  dearest, 
Sing  no  sad  songs  for  me  ; 
Plant  thou  no  roses  at  my  head 
Nor  shady  cypress-tree : 
Be  the  green  grass  above  me 

With  showers  and  dew-drops  wet ; 
And  if  thou  wilt,  remember, 
And  if  thou  wilt,  forget. 

I  shall  not  see  the  shadows, 

I  shall  not  feel  the  rain  ; 
I  shall  not  hear  the  nightingale 

Sing  on,  as  if  in  pain  : 
And  dreaming  through  the  twilight 

That  doth  not  rise  nor  set, 
Haply  I  may  remember, 

And  haply  may  forget. 

c.  G.  itossirm. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


623 


The  Lioom  of  Life. 

Uv  day,  all  night,  I  hear  the  jar 
LOf  the  loom  of  life,  and  near  and  far 
It  thrills  with  its  deep  and  muffled  sound 
As  the  tireless  wheels  go  round  and  round. 

Busily,  ceaselessly  goes  the  loom 
In  the  light  of  day,  and  the  midnight  gloom  ; 
The  wheels  are  turning  with  all  their  strife, 
Forming  at  last  the  web  of  each  life. 

Click,  clack  !  there's  a  web  of  love  wove  in  ; 
Click,  clack  !  there's  another  of  wrong  and  sin. 
What  a  checkered  thing  this  life  will  be 
When  we  see  it  unrolled  in  eternity ! 

Time  with  a  face  like  mystery, 

And  hands  as  busy  as  hands  can  be, 

Sits  at  the  loom  with  arms  outspread, 

To  catch  in  its  meshes  each  glancing  thread. 

Are  you  spinners  of  wool  in  life's  web,  say  ? 
Do  you  furnish  the  weaver  a  thread  each  day  ? 
It  were  better  then,  O  my  friend,  to  spin 
A  beautiful  thread  than  a  thread  of  sin. 

Say,  when  will  this  wonderful  web  be  done  ? 
In  a  hundred  years,  perhaps,  or  one, 
Or  to-morrow,  who  knoweth  ?  not  you  nor  I ; 
But  the  wheels  turn  on  and  the  shuttles  fly. 

Ah,  sad-eyed  weaver,  the  years  are  slow, 
And  each  one  is  nearing  the  end,  I  know. 
Soon  the  last  web  will  be  woven  in — 
God  grant  it  be  love  and  not  of  sin. 


The  Good  Great  Man. 

OW  seldom,  friend,  a  good  great  man  inherits 
Honor  and  wealth,   with   all  his    worth  and 

pains  ! 

It  seems  a  story  from  the  world  of  spirits 
When  any  man  obtains  that  which  he  merits, 
Or  any  merits  that  which  he  obtains. 

For  shame,  my  friend !  renounce  this  idle  strain  I 
What  wouldst  thou  have  a  good  great  man  obtain  ? 
Wealth,  title,  dignity,  a  golden  chain, 
Or  heap  of  corses  which  his  sword  hath  slain  ? 
Goodness  and  greatness  are  not  means,  but  ends. 
Hath  he  not  always  treasures,  always  friends, 
The  good  great  man  ?    Three    treasures — love,   and 
light, 

And  calm  thoughts,  equable  as  infant's  breath  ; 
And  three  fast  friends,  more  sure  than  day  or  night — 

Himself,  his  Maker,  and  the  angel  Death  . 

SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE. 


The  Maiden  Missionary. 

'HERB  she  goes  with   schemes   prolific   for   the 

heathen-isled  Pacific, 
All  her  soul  with  pity  burning  for  those  far-off 

coral  shores ; 
She  would  have  her  friends  endow  a  ladies'  school  in 

Chicahaua, 

And  establish  kindergartens  through  the  indolent 
Azores. 

Now  she  pleads  with  you  to  sign  a  paper  in  behalf  of 

China, 

To  correct  an  ancient  evil  by  a  prize  for  larger  feet ', 
And  her  lovely  eyes  are  swimming  while  she  speaks  of 

heathen  women, 

With  their  shocking  scant  apparel  and  the  vulgar  food 
they  eat. 

No  man  has  the  heart  to  snub  her,  though  she  turns 

the  talk  to  blubber. 

Oily  natives  of  Kamschatka,  and  the  podgy  Esqui 
maux, 
Or,  at  hinted  change  of  topic,  takes  you  flying  o'er  the 

tropic, 

To  the  swarthy  son  of  Afric  with  a  bangle  through 
his  nose. 

Oh,  she  looks  and  speaks  so  sweetly  that  she  wins  yon* 

heart  completely, 
And  her  strings  of  dry  statistics  chain  you  like  a 

silken  mesh ; 
And  give  most  profound  attention  to    each  several 

heathen  mention, 

For  her  face  is  like  a  rose  leaf,  and  your  heart  i?  only 
flesh. 

By  and  by  with  fingers  taper  she   presents  a  folded 

paper, 
And  you  spread  it  out  before  you  with  a  sigh  that 

sweeps  the  floor ; 
Here  are  victims  without  number,  from  a  poet  to  a 

plumber, 

And  you  never  saw  such  figures  on  a  begging  sheet 
before. 

Up  you  glance  with  indecision  ;  but  you  see  a  pleading 

vision, 
Dewy  lips  beset  with  dimples,  eyes  like  sweet  un- 

uttered  prayers ; 
And  with  all  your  spirit  burning  you  set  down  a  whole 

week's  earning, 

To  assist  some  lucky  heathen  up  the  shining  goldei> 
stairs. 

PAUL  PASTNOR. 


624. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


Early  Autumn. 

'HE  country  lanes  are  bright  with  bloom, 

And  gentle  airs  come  stealing  through 
Laden  with  native  wild  perfume 
Of  balm  and  mint  and  honey-dew, 
And  o'er  the  summer's  radiant  flush 
Lies  early  autumn's  dreamy  hush. 

In  way-side  nooks  the  asters  gleam, 
And  frost-flowers  dance  above  the  sod, 

While,  lapsing  by,  the  silent  stream 
Reflects  the  hue  of  golden-rod, 

That  flower  which  lights  a  dusky  day 

With  something  of  the  sun-god's  ray. 

The  grape-vine  clambers  o'er  the  hedge 

In  golden  festoons  ;  sumacs  burn 
Like  torches  on  the  distant  ledge, 

Or  light  the  lane  at  every  turn, 
And  ivy  riots  everywhere 
In  blood  red  banners  on  the  air. 

A  purple  mist  of  fragrant  mint 

Borders  the  fences,  drifting  out 
Of  fostering  corners,  and  its  tint, 

As  half  of  cheer  and  half  of  doubt, 
Is  like  the  dear  delightful  haze 
Which  robes  the  hills  these  autumn  days. 

And  strange  wild  growths  are  newly  met ; 

Odd  things  but  little  prized  of  yore, 
Like  some  old  jewel  well  reset, 

Take  on  a  worth  unseen  before, 
As  dock,  in  spring  a  graceless  weed, 
Is  brilliant  in  its  autumn  seed. 

The  cricket  and  the  katydid 

Pipe  low  their  sad  prophetic  tune, 

Though  airs  pulse  warm  the  leaves  amid, 
As  played  around  the  heart  of  June ; 

So  minor  strains  break  on  the  heart, 

Foretelling  age  as  years  depart. 

The  sweet  old  story  of  the  year 

Is  spinning  onward  to  its  close, 
Yet  sounds  as  welcome  on  the  ear 

As  in  the  time  of  op'ning  rose. 
May  life  for  all  as  sweetly  wane 
As  comes  the  autumn-time  again  I 

DART  FAIRTHORNB. 


The  Erl-King. 

rides  by  night  in  the  tempest  wild  ? 
'it  is  the  fond  father  with  his  child ; 
He  holdeth  the  boy  safe  in  his  arm, 
<3e  clasos  him  firmly,  he  keeps  him  warm. 


"  Why  hidest  thou,  child,  thy  face  with  fear?" 
"  Seest  thou  not,  father,  the  Erl-King  near? 
The  Erl-King,  with  his  crown  and  train?" 
"  My  son,  the  fog  hangs  o'er  the  plain. 

"Thou  sweet,  dear  child,  come,  go  with  me  ! 
Such  pretty  gams  will  I  play  with  thee ; 
The  banks  in  sweet  flowers  are  gaily  drest, 
My  mother  has  many  a  golden  vest. 

"My  father,  my  father,  and  dost  thou  not  hear 
What  the  Erl-King  is  whispering  in  my  ear?" 
"  Fear  nothing,  fear  nothing,  my  darling  boy; 
The  winds  with  the  withering  branches  toy. 

"  O  wilt  thou,  fair  boy,  go  along  with  me  ? 
My  daughters  shall  prettily  wait  upon  thee ; 
In  the  maze  of  the  midnight  dance  they  sweep, 
They  '11  rock  thee,  and  dance  thee,  and  sing  thee  to 
sleep. 

"  Dear  father,  dear  father,  and  seest  thou  not 
The  Erl-King's  daughters  in  yon  dark  spot?" 
"  My  son,  my  son,  as  -were  it  by  day, 
I  see  the  old  willow  trees  glimmer  so  gray. 

"  I  love  thee,  with  rapture  thy  form  I  survey ; 
And  if  thou'rt  not  willing  I'll  tear  thee  away." 
"  O  fathe     O  father,  he's  seizing  my  arm, 
O  save  me  !  the  Erl-King  has  wrought  me  harm." 

The  father  rides  swiftly  in  fear  and  alarm, 
He  holds  the  sobbing  child  in  his  arm, 
He  reaches  the  court  with  trouble  and  dread; 
Alas !  in  his  arms  the  child  is  dead. 

JOHANN  WOLFGANG  GOETHK- 


Can  Ix>ve  Survive  ? 

INCE  brass,  nor  stone,  nor  earth,  nor  boundlest 
sea, 

But  sad  mortality  o'ersways  their  power, 
How  with  this  rage  shall  beauty  hold  a  plea, 
Whose  action  is  no  stronger  than  a  flower  ? 

O  how  shall  summer's  honey  breath  hold  out 
Against  the  wreckful  siege  of  battering  days, 
When  rocks  impregnable  are  not  so  stout 
Nor  gates  of  steel  so  strong,  but  Time  decays? 

O  fearful  meditation  !  where,  alack ! 
Shall  Time's  best  jewel  from  Time's  chest  lie  hid? 
Or  what  strong  hand  can  hold  his  swift  foot  back 
Or  who  his  spoil  of  beauty  can  forbid? 

O !  none,  unless  this  miracle  have  might. 

That  in  black  ink  my  love  may  still  shine  bright 

SHAKESPEAMC. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 

Remembered  by  What  I  Have  Done. 

l^J  P  and  away,  like  the  dew  of  the  morning, 

\v£f     That  soars  from  the  earth  to  its  home  in  the  sun; 

So  let  me  steal  away,  gently  and  lovingly, 
Only  remembered  by  what  I  have  done. 

My  name,  and  my  place,  and  my  tomb  all  forgotten, 

The  brief  race  of  time  well  and  patiently  run, 
So  let  me  pass  away,  peacefully,  silently, 

Only  remembered  by  what  I  have  done. 

Gladly  away  from  this  toil  would  I  hasten, 

Up  to  the  crown  that  for  me  has  been  won ; 
Unthought  of  by  man  in  rewards  or  in  praises — 

Only  remembered  by  what  I  have  done. 

Up  and  away,  like  the  odors  of  sunset, 

That  sweeten  the  twilight  as  darkness  comes  on ; 
S  J  be  my  life — a  thing  felt  but  not  noticed. 

And  I  but  remembered  by  what  I  have  done. 

Yes,  like  the  fragrance  that  wanders  in  darkness 

When  the  flowers  that  it  came  from  are  closed  up 

and  gone ; 
So  I  would  be  to  this  world's  weary  dwellers, 

Only  remembered  by  what  I  have  done. 

Needs  there  the  praise  of  the  love-written  record, 

The  name  and  the  epitaph  graven  on  stone  ? 
The  things  we  have  lived  for — let  them  be  our  story 

We  ourselves  but  remembered  by  what  we  have  done 

I  need  not  be  missed,  if  my  life  has  been  bearing 

(As  its  Summer  and  Autumn  moved  silently  on) 
The  bloom,  the  fruit,  and  the  seed  of  its  season  ; 

I  shall  still  be  remembered  by  what  I  have  done. 

I  need  not  be  missed  if  another  succeed  me, 
To  reap  down  those  fields  which  in  spring  I  have 

sown ; 
He  who  ploughed  and  who  sowed  is  not  missed  by  the 

reaper, 
He  is  only  remembered  by  what  he  has  done. 

Not  myself,  but  the  truth  that  in  life  I  have  spoken  ; 

Not  myself,  but  the  seed  that  in  life  I  have  sown, 
Shall  pass  on  to  ages — all  about  me  forgotten, 

Save  the  truth  I  have  spoken,  the  things  I  have 
done. 


625 


So  let  my  living  be,  so  be  my  dying ; 

So  let  my  name  lie,  unblazoned,  unknown  ; 
Unpraised  and  unmissed,  I  shall  still  be  remembered 

Yes — but  remembered  by  what  I  have  done. 


Quiet  Work. 

kNE  lesson,  Nature,  let  me  learn  of  thee, 
One  lesson  which  in  every  wind  is  blown, 
One  lesson  of  two  duties  kept  at  one 
Thoujjh  the  loud  world  proclaim  their  enmity — 


Of  toil  unsevered  from  tranquillity  ; 
Of  labor  ,  that  in  lasting  fruit  outgrows 
Far  noisier  schemes,  accomplished  in  repose, 
Too  great  for  haste,  too  high  for  rivalry. 

Yes,  while  on  earth  a  thousand  discords  n^g, 
Man's  senseless  uproar  mingling  with  his  toil, 
Still  do  thy  quiet  ministers  move  on, 

Their  glorious  tasks  in  silence  perfecting  ; 
Still  working,  blaming  still  our  vain  turmoil, 
Laborers  that  shall  not  fail,  when  man  isgoue. 

MATTHEW 


Patience  Taught  by  Nature. 

DREARY  life  !"  we  cry,  "  O  dreary  life  I" 
And  still  the  generations  of  the  birds 
Singthiough  our  sighing,  and  the  flocks  and 

herds 
Serenely  live  while  we  are  keeping  strife 

With  Heaven's  true  purpose  in  us,  as  a  knife 
Against  which  we  may  struggle.     Ocean  girds 
Unslackened  the  dry  land  ;  savannah-swards 
Unweary  sweep ;  hills  watch,  unworn  ;  and  rife 

Meek  leaves  drop  yearly  from  the  forest- trees, 
To  show  above  the  unwasted  stars  that  pass 
In  their  old  glory.     O  thou  God  of  old  ! 

Grant  me  some  smaller  grace  that  comes  to  these; 
But  so  much  patience  as  ;i  blade  of  grass 
Grows  by  contented  through  the  heat  and  cold. 

ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING^ 


The  Kile. 

I T  flows  through  old  hushed  Egypt  and  its  sands, 

I  Like  some  grave  mighty  thought  threading  a  dre«fltt« 

And  times  and  things,  as  in  that  vision,  seem 
Keeping  along  it  their  eternal  stands — 


Caves,  pillars,  pyramids,  the  shepherd  1«ands 
That  roamed  through  the  young  world,  the  glory  ex 
treme 

Of  high  Sesostris,  and  that  southern  beam, 
The  laughing   queen   that  caught  the  world's  grftrt 
hands. 

Then  comes  a  mightier  silence,  stern  and  strong, 

As  of  a  world  left  empty  of  its  throng, 

And  the  void  weighs  on  us ;  and  then  we  wake, 

And  hear  the  fruitful  stream  lapsing  along 
'Twixt  villages,  and  think  how  we  shall  take 
Our  own  calm  journey  on  for  human  sake. 

LEIGH 


626 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


Views  of  Farmer  Brown. 

^HAT  would  they  thought  in  our  day,  John, 

Of  doin's  sech  as  these  ? 
There's  gals  down  there  in  Simpkin's  lot 
About  as  thick  as  bees, 
A.-pickin'  such  old  stiff-backed  herbs 

As  golden-rod,  and  asters ; 
Tfean,  pesky  weeds !     No  thrifty  farmer 'd 
Have  'em  in  his  pastures. 

Jest  hear  'em  laugh,  and  "  oh,"  and  "  ah," 

'Bout  everything  they  see ; 
I  reckon  fifty  year  ago 

Sech  things  would  never  be ; 
The  gals  in  them  days  had  to  work, 

And  never  thought  o'  posies 
Unless  'twas  lalocs  in  the-spring, 

And  in  the  summer,  rosies. 

Or  mebbe  down  the  garden  walk 

You'd  see  some  sweet-peas  growin', 
And  larkspurs,  pinks,  and  hollyhocks 

Would  do  their  share  o'  blowin'; 
But  interferin'  with  the  things 

God  scattered  'mong  the  grasses 
Was  never  thought  of — guess  it  wa'n'tl-*- 

By  good  old-fashioned  lasses. 

It's  ever  since  that  prig  came  her 

They  call  Professor  Dangly, 
The  gals  have  been  a-talkin'  'bout 

The  "Aster  novy-angly," 
And  the  "  Solidago  strictly," 

And  the  "Ap'os  tuberosy ;" 
And  them  old  'tarnal  beggar  ticks 

Are  christened  now,  "  Frondosy." 

Waal,  times  is  changed,  and  so  is  gals, 

And  so  is  all  creation  ; 
I'm  glad  I've  lived  nigh  seventy  year 

Afore  this  generation ; 
For,  speakin'  confidentially, 

It  seems  to  me  it  means 
If  folks  keep  on  in  this  'ere  way 

Bumbye  they  won't  know — beans. 

Poor  farmer  Brown  is  resting  now, 

Life's  sands  have  all  been  numbered ; 
With  follies  of  the  present  age 

His  peace  is  ne'er  encumbered ; 
But  spite  of  all,  close  by  his  grave, 

Each  year  break  through  the  sod 
The  purple  aster's  starry  blooms 

And  plumes  of  golden-rod. 

KATHERINE  H.  TERRV. 


Monterey. 

were  n°t  many — we  who 
Before  the  iron  sleet  that  day  ; 
Yet  many  a  gallant  spirit  would 
Give  half  his  years  if  he  but  could 
Have  been  with  us  at  Monterey. 

Now  here,  now  there,  the  shot  was  hailed 

In  deadly  drifts  of  fiery  spray  ; 
Yet  not  a  single  soldier  quailed 
When  wounded  comrades  round  them  wailed 

Their  dying  shouts  at  Monterey. 

And  on,  still  on,  our  column  kept, 

Through  walls  of  flame,  its  withering  way; 
Where  fell  the  dead,  the  living  stept, 
Still  charging  on  the  guns  that  swept 
The  slippery  streets  of  Monterey. 

The  foe  himself  recoiled  aghast, 

When,  striking  where  he  strongest  lay, 
We  swooped  his  flanking  batteries  past, 
And,  braving  full  their  murderous  blast, 
Stormed  home  the  towers  of  Monterey. 

Our  banners  on  those  turrets  wave, 

And  there  our  evening  bugles  play, 
Where  orange-boughs  above  their  grave 
Keep  green  the  memory  of  the  brave 
Who  fought  and  fell  at  Monterey. 

We  are  not  many — we  who  pressed 
Beside  the  brave  who  fell  that  day ; 

But  who  of  us  hath  not  confessed 

He'd  rather  share  their  warrior  rest 
Than  not  have  been  at  Monterey  ? 

CHARLES  FENNO  HOFFMAN. 


Soul  and  Body. 

POOR  Soul,  the  centre  of  my  sinful  earth, 
Fooled  by  those  rebel  powers  that  thee  array, 
Why  dost  thou  pine  within,  and  suffer  deartht 
Painting  thy  outward  walls  so  costly  gay  ? 

Why  so  large  cost,  having  so  short  a  lease, 
Dost  thou  upon  thy  fading  mansion  spend  ? 
Shall  worms,  inheritors  of  this  excess, 
F/at  up  thy  charge  ?  is  this  thy  body's  end? 

Then,  Soul,  live  thou  upon  thy  servant's  loss. 
And  let  that  pine  to  aggravate  thy  store ; 
Buy  terms  divine  in  selling  hours  of  dross; 
Within  be  fed,  without  be  rich  no  more  :— 

So  shalt  thou  feed  on  death,  that  feeds  on  men, 
And  death  once  dead,  there's  no  more  djing  thejv 
WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


627 


A  School  Episode. 

\ONG  years  ago  (how  youth  to-day 
\  Would  stand  and  stare  if  taught  that  way  !) 
In  rural  "  deestricks  "  'twas  laid  down 
That  meeting  travelers  through  the  town, 
Boys  from  their  heads  their  hats  should  take 
And  reverently  their  "manners "  make ; 
Each  little  maid,  her  part  to  do, 
Made  "kurchies  "  wonderful  to  view. 

It  chanced  that  on  a  certain  day 

His  yearly  visit  came  to  pay, 

A  school  official  yclept  "trustee," — 

His  form  e'en  I  seem  to  see, 

In  somber  coat  of  homespun  brown 

And  fine  buff  waistcoat  bought  in  town ; 

Besides — yes,  it  was  surely  so. 

He  wore  a  wig,  this  ancient  beau ; 

Else  I'd  no  story  have  to  tell 

Of  what  that  article  befell ; 

He  made  his  call — no  matter  where, 

Since  you,  I'm  sure,  were  never  there; 

He  heard  the  scholars  spell  and  read, 

Talked  long  and  learned  of  their  need 

The  Rule  of  Three  to  practice  well, 

And  the  nine  parts  of  speech  to  tell; 

Then  as  a  final  flourish,  "Now," 

He  said,  "I'll  make  a  proper  bow ; 

Look,  one  and  all." 

Alas  to  tell ! 

His  wig  came  loose  and  off  it  fell, 
Displaying  to  the  general  view 
A  pate  that  shone  like  billiard  cue ; 
He  stared  a  breath,  with  scarlet  face, 
His  headgear  seized  and  quit  the  place. 

Upon  the  school  a  stillness  fell, 
Until  an  urchin  broke  the  spell — 
A  tow-haired  child,  the  smallest  there, 
Who,  running  toward  his  teacher's  chair 
With  hand  upraised,  piped  shrilly  out, 
His  freckled  face  expressing  doubt 
And  direst  wonder :  "  Schoolma'am,  we 
Can't  take  our  hairs  off  clean  like  he  !" 

EMMA  SHAW. 


Der  Deutscher's  Maxim. 


vas  vat  you  call  a  maxim 
Dot  I  hear  der  oder  day, 
Und  I  wride  id  in  mine  album, 
So  id  don'd  could  got  avay  ; 
Und  I  dells  mine  leedle  Yawcob 

He  moost  mind  vot  he's  aboudt: 
"  'Tis  too  late  to  lock  der  shtable 
Vhen  der  horse  he  vas  gone  oudt.  " 


Vhen  I  see  ubon  der  corners 

Off  der  shtreets  most  efry  night, 
Der  loafers  und  der  hoodlums, 

Who  do  nix  but  shvear  und  fights 
I  says  to  mine  Katrina : 

"  Let  us  make  home  bright  ttnd  gay , 
Ve  had  petter  lock  der  shtable, 

So  our  colts  don'd  got  avay." 

Vhen  you  see  dhose  leedle  urchingr 

Not  mooch  ofer  knee-high  tall, 
Shump  righdt  indo  der  melon  patch, 

Shust  owf  der  garden  vail, 
Und  vatch  each  leedle  rascall 

Vhen  he  cooms  back  mit  hees  "boodle,*" 
Look  oudt  und  lock  your  shtable, 

So  your  own  nag  don'd  shkydoodle  I 

Vhen  der  young  man  at  der  counter 

Vants  to  shpecgulate  in  shtocks, 
Und  buys  hees  girl  some  timond  rings 

Und  piles  righdt  oup  der  rocks, 
Look  oudt  for  dot  young  feller ; 

Id  vas  safe  enuff  to  say 
Dot  der  shtable  id  vas  empty, 

Und  der  horse  was  gone  avay. 

Dhen  dake  time  by  der  fetlock ; 

Don'd  hurry  droo  life's  courses; 
Rememper  vot  der  poet  says, 

"  Life's  but  a  sphan  " — off  horses ; 
Der  poy  he  vas  der  comin'  man  ; 

Be  careful  vhile  you  may ; 
Shust  keep  der  shtable  bolted, 

Und  der  horse  don'd  got  avay. 

CHARLES  POI^EN  ADAMS. 


Time  and  Love. 

kHEN  I  have  seen  by  Time's  fell  hand  defaced 
The  rich  proud  cost  of  out-worn  buried  age ; 
When  sometime  lofty  towers  I  see  down-razedt 
And  brass  eternal  slave  to  mortal  rage  ; 

When  I  have  seen  the  hungry  ocean  gain 
Advantage  on  the  kingdom  of  the  shore, 
And  the  firm  soil  win  of  the  watery  main, 
Increasing  store  with  loss,"  and  loss  with  store ; 

When  I  have  seen  such  interchange  of  state, 
Or  state  itself  confounded  to  decay, 
Ruin  hath  taught  me  thus  to  ruminate — 
That  Time  will  come  and  take  my  Love  away : 

— This  thought  is  as  a  death,  which  cannot  choose 
But  weep  to  have  that  which  it  fears  to  lose. 

SHAKESPEARBt 


628 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


Little  Worries. 

"HOUGH  many  ills  may  hamper  life 

When  fortune  turns  capricious, 
The  great  but  nerve  us  for  the  strife, 
The  small  ones  make  us  vicious ; 
Fierce  griefs  are  soon  outstripped  by  one 

Who  through  existence  scurries ; 
It's  harder  far  a  race  to  run 
With  nimble  "  little  worries." 

A  button  bids  your  shirt  good-bye 

When  late  for  dinner  dressing, 
Fou  have  a  kite  you  cannot  fly, 

And  creditors  are  pressing ; 
You  run  to  catch — and  lose — a  train 

(That  fatal est  of  hurries), 
Your  newest  hat  encounters  rain — 

Life's  full  of  "little  worries." 

From  day  to  day  some  silly  things 

Upset  you  altogether ; 
There's  nought  so  soon  convulsion  brings 

As  tickling  with  a  feather ; 
'Gainst  minor  evils  let  him  pray 

Who  fortune's  favor  curries; 
J*or  one  that  big  misfortunes  slay 

Ten  die  of  "  little  worries." 

GEORGE  R.  SIMS. 


Out  at  Sea. 

I  know  that  I  am  dying,  mate;  so  fetch  the  Bible 
here, 
What's  laid  unopen  in  the  chest  for  five  and  twenty 

year; 

And  bring  a  light  along  of  you,  and  read  a  bit  to  me, 
Who  haven't  heard  a  word  of  it  since  first  I  came  to 
sea. 

Its  five  and  twenty  year,  lad,  since  she  went  to  her 

rest, 
Who  put  that  theie  old  Bible  at  the  bottom  of  my 

chest  ; 

And  I  can  well  remember  the  words  she  says  to  me  : 
M  Now,  don't  forget  to  read  it,  Tom,  when  you  get  out 

to  sea." 


never  thought  about  it,  mate  ;  for  it  clean  slipped 

from  my  head  ; 
But  when  I  come  from  that  first  voyage,  the  dear  old 

girl  was  dead. 
And  the  neighbors  told  me,  while  I  stood  as  still  as 

still  can  be, 
That  she  prayed  for  me  and  blessed  me  as  was  just  gone 

out  to  sea. 


And  then  I  shipped  again,  mate,  and  forgot  the  Bible 

there, 

For  I  never  gave  a  thought  to  it — a-sailing  everywhere. 
But  now  that  I  am  dying,  you  can  read  a  bit  to  me 
As  seems  to  think  about  it,  now  I'm  ill  and  down  at 

sea. 

And  find  a  little  prayer,  lad,  and  say  it  up  right  loud, 
So  that  the  Lord  can  hear  it  if  it  finds  him  in  a  crowd 
I  can  scarce  hear  what  you're  saying,  for  the  wind  that 

howls  to  lee; 
But  the  Lord'll  hear  above  it  all — for  He's  been  out  at 

sea. 

It's  set  in  very  dark,  mate  ;  and  I  think  I'll  say  good 
night. 

But  stop — look  there  !  Why,  mate ;  why  Bill ;  the 
cabin's  turning  light ; 

And  the  dear  old  mother's  standing  there  as  give  tht 
book  to  me ! 

All  right ;  I'm  coming!  Bill,  good-by !  My  soul'.* 
going  out  to  sea ! 

J.  S.  FLETCHER. 


Early  Spring-. 

I  HEARD  a  thousand  blended  notes 
While  in  a  grove  I  sat  reclined, 
In  that  sweet  mood  when  pleasant  thoughts 
Bring  sad  thoughts  to  the  mind. 

To  her  fair  works  did  Nature  link 

The  human  soul  that  through  me  ran ; 

And  much  it  grieved  my  heart  to  think 
What  Man  has  made  of  Man. 

Through  primrose  tufts,  in  that  sweet  bower, 
The  periwinkle  trailed  its  wreaths 

And  'tis  my  faith  that  every  flower 
Enjoys  the  air  it  breathes. 

The  birds  around  me  hopped  and  played, 
Their  thoughts  I  cannot  measure — 

But  the  least  motion  which  they  made 
It  seemed  a  thrill  of  pleasure. 

The  budding  twigs  spread  out  their  fan 

To  catch  the  breezy  air  ; 
And  I  must  think,  do  all  I  can, 

That  there  was  pleasure  there. 

If  this  belief  from  heaven  be  sent, 

If  such  be  Nature's  holy  plan, 
Have  I  not  reason  to  lament 

What  Man  has  made  of  Man  ? 

WILLIAM  WORDSWORTB, 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 
Art  Thou  Living  Yet  ?  Parson  Kelly. 


029 


IS  there  no  grand,  immortal  sphere 
Beyond  this  realm  of  broken  ties, 
To  fill  the  wants  that  mock  us  here, 
And  dry  the  tears  from  weeping  eyes  ; 
Where  Winter  melts  in  enuless  Spring, 

And  June  stands  near  with  deathless  flowers ; 
Where  we  may  hear  the  dear  ones  sing 
Who  loved  us  in  this  world  of  ours  ? 
t  ask,  and  lo  !  my  cheeks  are  wet 
With  tears  for  one  I  cannot  see ; 
Oh,  mother,  art  thou  living  yet, 
And  dost  thou  still  remember  me  ? 


C  feel  thy  kisses  o'er  me  thrill, 

Thou  unseen  angel  of  my  life ; 
I  hear  thy  hymns  around  me  trill, 

An  undertone  to  care  and  strife ; 
Thy  tender  eyes  upon  me  shine, 

As  from  a  being  glorified, 
Till  I  am  thine  and  thou  art  mine, 

And  I  forget  that  thou  hast  died. 
I  almost  lose  each  vain  regret 

In  visions  of  a  life  to  be ; 
But,  mother,  art  thou  living  yet, 

And  dost  thou  still  remember  me  ? 


The  Springtimes  bloom,  the  Summers  fade, 

The  Winters  blow  along  my  way ; 
But  over  every  light  or  shade 

Thy  memory  lives  by  night  and  day ; 
It  soothes  to  sleep  my  wildest  pain, 

Like  some  sweet  song  that  cannot  die, 
And,  like  the  murmur  of  the  main, 

Grows  deeper  when  the  storm  is  nigh. 
I  know  the  brightest  stars  that  set 

Return  to  bless  the  yearning  sea ; 
But,  mother,  art  thou  living  yet, 

And  dost  thou  still  remember  me? 


I  sometimes  think  thy  soul  comes  back 

From  o'er  the  dark  and  silent  stream 
Where  last  we  watched  thy  shining  track, 

To  those  green  hills  of  which  we  dream ; 
Thy  loving  arms  around  me  twine, 

My  cheeks  bloom  younger  in  thy  breath, 
Till  thou  irt  mine  and  I  am  thine, 

Without  a  thought  of  pain  or  death ; 
And  yet,  at  times,  my  eyes  are  wet 

With  tears  for  her  I  cannot  see — 
Oh,  mother,  art  thou  living  yet, 

And  dost  thou  still  remember  me  ? 

JAMES  G.  CI.AJIKB. 


Parson  Kelly's  fair  young  wife  Irene 
Died  when  but  thre«  months  wed, 
And  no  new  love  has  ever  come  between 
His  true  heart  and  the  dead, 
Though  now  for  sixty  years  the  grass  has  growo 
Upon  her  grave,  and  on  its  simple  stone 
The  moss 
And  yellow  lichens  creep  hei  name  across. 

Outside  the  door,  in  the  warm  summer  air, 

The  old  man  sits  for  hours, 
The  idle  wind  that  stirs  his  silver  hair 

Is  sweet  with  June's  first  flowers ; 
But  dull  his  mind,  and  clouded  with  the  hazfe 
Of  life's  last  weary,  gray  November  days ; 

And  dim 

The  past  and  present  look  alike  to  him. 

The  sunny  scene  around,  confused  and  blurred, 

The  twitter  of  the  birds, 
Blend  in  his  mind  with  voices  long  since  heard— 

Glad  childhood's  careless  words, 
Old  hymns  and  Scripture  texts ;  while  indistinct 
Yet  strong,  one  thought  with  all  fair  things  is  linked-* 

The  bride 

Of  his  lost  youth  is  ever  by  his  side. 

By  its  sweet  weight  of  snowy  blossoms  bowed 

The  rose-tree  branch  hangs  low, 
And  in  the  sunshine,  like  a  fleecy  cloud, 

Sways  slowly  to  and  fro. 

"  Oh !  is  it  you  ?"  the  old  man  asks,  "  Irene  !"• 
And  smiles,  and  fancies  that  her  face  he's  seen 

Beneath 

The  opening  roses  of  a  bridal  wreath ! 

Down  from  the  gambrel  roof  a  white  dove  flits» 

The  sunshine  on  its  wings, 
And  lighting  close  to  where  the  dreamer  sits, 

A  vision  with  it  brings — 

A  golden  gleam  from  some  long  vanished  day. 
"  Dear  love,"  he  calls ;  then,  "Why  will  you  not  slay?** 

He  sighs, 

For,  at  his  voice,  the  bird  looks  up  and  flies7 

O  constant  heart !  whose  failing  thoughts  cling  last 

To  one  long  laid  in  dust , 
Still  seeing,  turned  to  thuie,  as  in  the  past,  ( 

Her  look  of  perfect  trust, 

Her  soft  voice  hearing  in  the  south  wind's  breath 
Dream  on  !  I^ove  pure  as  thine  shall  outlive  death, 

And  when 

The  gates  unfold,  her  eyes  meet  thine  again ! 

MA.RIAN  DOUGI.ASS, 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


The  I-ioii's  Bide. 

his  rair  tin   lesert  king  arose  through  his 
domain  to  fly, 

To  the  far  lagoon  he  wanders,  in  the  lofty  reeds 
to  lie ; 
Where  gazelles  drink  and  giraffes,  he  lurks  upon  the 

rushy  shore ; 

Jfctmbling  o'sr  the  mighty  monarch,  waves  the  shady 
sycamore. 

When  at  eve  the  blazing  fire  crackles  in  the  Caffre's 

kraal, 
When  on  Table  Mount  no  more  the  signal  flutters  in 

the  gale. 
When  the   solitary  Hottentot  sweeps  o'er  the  wide 

karroo 
When  the  antelope  sleeps  'neath  the  bush,  and  by  the 

stream  the  gnu : 

Lo !  then  stalks  majestically  through  the  desert  the 

giraffe, 
There  to  lave  the  stagnant  waters,  there  the  t>amy 

draught  to  quaff ; 
Parched  with  thirst,  he  skims  the  naked  plain  his 

burning  tongue  to  cool, 
kneeling,  with  extended  neck,  he  drinks  from  out  the 

miry  pool. 

Suddenly  the  rushes  quiver;  on  his  back,  with  fearful 

roar, 
Springs  the  lion  ;  what  a  steed !  were  richer  housings 

e'er  before, 
Seen  in 'knight's  or  prince's  stall,  or  on  the  champing 

war  steeds  sides 
Than  the  spotted  charger's  trappings,  which  the  desert 

king  bestrides? 

In  the  muscles  of  th^  neck  he  digs  his  greedy  fangs 

amain, 
O'er  the  giant  courser's  shoulder  waves  the  rider's 

yellow  mane ; 
With  the  hollow  shriek  of  pain,  he  starts,  and,  mad 

with  fury,  flies ; 
£ee  I  the  spotted  leopard's  skin,  how  with  the  camel's 

speed  it  vies ! 

ilark !  he  strikes  tha   noon-illumined  plain  with  foot 

swift  as  the  roe's, 
£taringfrom  their  sockets  start  his  bloodshot  eyes,  and 

trickling  flows 
0'erthe  brown  bespotted  neck  the  gory  torrent's  purple 

stain, 
And  the  victim's  beating  heart  resounds  along  the 

silent  plain. 


I/ike    the    cloud    which    guided    Israel    to    Yemen's, 

promised  land, 
Like  a  genius  of  the  waste,  a  phantom  riding  o'er  the 

strand, 
Whirling  on,  a  sandy  column,  like  a  vortex  in  the 

skies, 
Through  the  desert's  sandy  sea,  behind  the  horse  and 

rider,  flies. 

Whirring  in  their  wake,  the  vulture,  pierces  with  hJ& 

shriek  the  gloom. 

And  the  fell  hyena  follows,  desecrator  of  the  tomb ; 
And  the  panther,  dread  destroyer  of  the  Capeland's 

herds,  gives  chase ; 
Drops  of  sweat  and  gore  point  out  their  grisly  monarch'* 

fearful  trace. 

Trembling,  they  beheld  their  lord,  as  on  his  living 

throne  he  stood, 
Tearing  with  his  grisly  fangs  the  chequered  cushion, 

stained  with  blood. 
Onwards,  till  his  strength's  exhausted,  must  the  steetf 

his  burden  bear, 
'Gainst  a  rider  such  as  this,  'twere  vain  indeed  to 

plunge  and  rear  I 

Stagg'ring,  on  the  desert's  brink  the  victim  falls  and 
gurgling  lies ; 

Dead,  besmeared  with  froth  and  gore,  the  steed  be 
comes  the  rider's  prize. 

Over  Madagascar,  in  the  east,  the  morning  glimmers 
gray,— 

O'er  the  frontiers  of  his  realm  the  king  of  beasts  pur 
sues  his  way. 

FERDINAND  FREIUGRATH. 


The  Fountain. 

talked  with  open  heart,  and  tongue 
Affectionate  and  true, 
A  pair  of  friends,  though  I  was  young» 
And  Matthew  seventy-two. 

We  lay  beneath  a  spreading  oak, 

Beside  a  mossy  seat ; 
And  from  the  turf  a  fountain  broke 

And  gurgled  at  our  feet. 

" Now,  Matthew,"  said  I,  "let  us  match. 

This  water's  pleasant  tune 
With  some  old  border  song,  01  catch 

That  suits  a  summer's  noon. 

"  Or  of  the  church-clock  and  the  chimes 

Sing  here  beneath  the  shade 
That  half-mad  thing  of  witty  rhytnec 

Which  you  last  April  made  I" 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


in  silence  Matthew  lay,  and  eyed 
The  spring  beneath  the  tree ; 

And  thus  the  dear  old  man  replied, 
The  gray-haired  man  of  glee : 

*'  No  check,  no  stay,  this  streamlet  fears. 

How  merrily  it  goes  ! 
Twill  murmur  on  a  thousand  years 

And  flow  as  now  it  flows. 

'"  And  here,  on  this  delightful  day, 

I  cannot  choose  but  think 
How  oft,  a  vigorous  man ,  I  lay 

Beside  this  fountain's  brink. 

"  My  eyes  are  dim  with  childish  tears, 

My  heart  is  idly  stirred, 
For  the  same  sound  is  in  my  ears 
Which  in  those  days  I  heard. 

"'Thus  fares  it  still  in  our  decay  • 

And  yet  the  wiser  mind 
Mourns  less  for  what  Age  takes  away 

Than  what  it  leaves  behind. 

'"The  blackbird  amid  leafy  trees, 

The  lark  above  the  hill, 
Ivet  loose  their  carols  when  they  please, 

Are  quiet  when  they  will. 

"With  Nature  never  do  they  wage 

A  foolish  strife  ;  they  see 
A  happy  youth,  and  their  old  age 

Is  beautiful  and  free  : 

*'  But  we  are  pressed  by  heavy  laws ; 

And  often,  glad  no  more, 
We  wear  a  face  of  joy,  because 

We  have  been  glad  of  yore. 

"  If  there  be  one  who  need  bemoan 

His  kindred  laid  in  earth, 
The  household  hearts  that  were  his  own — 

It  is  the  man  of  mirth. 

•"  My  days,  my  friend,  are  almost  gone, 

My  life  has  been  approved, 
And  many  love  me  ;  but  by  none 

Am  I  enough  beloved." 
*'  Now  both  himself  and  me  he  wrongs, 

The  man  who  thus  complains ! 
J  live  and  sing  my  idle  songs 

Upon  these  happy  plains : 
And,  Matthew,  for  thy  children  dead 

I'll  be  a  son  to  thee  !" 
At  this  he  grasped  my  hand  and  said, 

"  Alas !  that  cannot  be. " 
We  rose  up  from  the  fountain-side ; 

And  down  the  smooth  descent 
Of  Uie  green  sheep-track  did  we  glide; 

And  through  the  wood  we  went ; 


And  ere  we  came  to  Leonard's  Rock 

He  sang  those  witty  rhymes 
About  the  crazy  old  church-clock, 

And  the  bewildered  chimes. 

WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH. 


Charlie's  Story  of  the  Family  Pledge. 

IB  family  pledge  hung  on  the  wall, 
And  on  it  you  could  see 
The  names  of  mamma,  Mary  Jane. 
And  Charlie — that  is  me. 

We  didn't  dare  to  ask  papa 

To  write  upon  it  too, 
So  left  a  space  for  him  to  fill ; 

'Twas  all  we  dared  to  do. 

He  saw  the  pledge  as  soon  as  he 

Came  in  the  door  that  night ; 
And  when  we  saw  him  reading  it 

It  put  us  in  a  fright. 

He  didn't  say  a  word  to  us 

About  the  pledge  at  all, 
But  oft  I  saw  him  look  at  it 

While  hanging  on  the  wall. 

And  every  night  when  he  came  home, 

He  stopped  and  read  it  through  : 
We  all  kept  still  about  those  words, 

Although  we  knew  them  true. 

Four  weeks  had  passed,  and  then  one  night, 

When  pa  came  home  to  tea, 
He  took  the  pledge  down  from  its  nail, 

And  then  he  turned  to  me : 

"  Go  get  the  pen  and  ink,  my  boy 

And  let  me  fill  that  space, 
It  looks  so  bare,"  he  slowly  said, 

A  queer  look  on  his  face. 

And  then  mamma  sat  down  and  cried, 

(She  said  it  was  for  joy), 
And  Mary  Jane  she  cried  some,  too, 

I  didn't — I'm  a  boy. 

But  papa  says  he  did  not  drink 

Since  that  first  night  when  we 
Had  hung  that  pledge  upon  the  wall 

Where  he  our  names  could  see. 

And  ever  since  that  space  was  filled, 

Mamma  said  just  to-night, 
Though  dark  may  be  our  little  room, 

Our  corner  now  is  light. 

A.  H.  HOTCHINSON 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


At  the  Window. 

"HE  lady  she  sits  at  her  window ; 

I  sit  at  my  window  and  look, 
And  my  fancies  flock  gladly  toward  her, 
As  yonng  swans  flock  forth  to  a  brook, 
And  I  catch  from  her  bright  face  the  pleasure 
I  draw  from  an  affluent  book. 

I  scarce  know  the  name  of  the  lady, 

She  never  has  spoken  to  me ; 
But  I  know,  by  infallible  symbols, 

That  whatever  her  history  be, 
Her  soul  is  as  brave  as  the  mountains — 

Her  heart  is  as  deep  as  the  sea. 

Sometimes  her  white  fingers  fly  deftly 
All  day  with  the  needle  and  thread ; 

And  sometimes  o'er  lark-throated  poems 
She  droopeth  her  beautiful  head ; 

And  sometimes  she  waits  on  the  people 
Whose  custom  assureth  her  bread. 

For  she  is  but  a  clerk,  is  this  lady ; 

A  salaried  clerk  in  a  store, 
With  the  blessing  of  labor  upon  her : 

(Not  curse,  as  was  written  of  yore.) 
And — judged  by  the  palpable  outward — 

I  should  hazard  the  guess  she  was  poor. 

But  of  comforts,  and  riches,  and  splendors, 
Which  silver  and  gold  cannot  buy ; 

The  things  which  make  royal  the  forehead, 
Which  set  a  delight  in  the  eye, 

And  crown  us  with  glories  and  lustres 
As  the  stars  of  the  Lord  crown  the  sky — 

Of  these — the  deep  spiritual  graces 

Which  give  unto  life  its  divine, 
Transform  with  miraculous  touches 

The  water  of  being  to  wine, 
And  quicken  the  sap  of  the  human 

Till  the  drear  places  blossom  and  shine. 

She  has  crystalline  caskets  and  coffers. 

With  broad  open  lips  to  receive 
The  silent  ineffable  helpings 

God's  angels  are  gladdened  to  give, 
Beyond  half  the  diademed  princes, 

And  miUionaired  monarchs  who  live. 

And  something  about  her  most  subtly 
Reminds  me  of  daisies  and  birds : 

Of  smells  of  mown  hay  in  the  meadows, 
Of  sweet  tunes  to  beautiful  words  ; 

And  of  one  who  clung  close  to  my  bosom 
Before  she  was  clasped  to  the  Lord's. 


Thus  being  so  minded  and  betteted, 

Because  of  the  claims  she  has  Li  ought  j 

The  rest  to  my  trouble  of  spirit, 

The  peace  to  the  ache  in  my  thought, 

And  the  cooing  of  doves  in  the  passions 
Where  devils  have  wrestled  and  wrought. 

All  paths  which  the  lady  may  travel 
My  blessings  shall  conquer  ;  that  so 

No  roughness  may  bruise  her,  no  waters 
Be  bitter  or  brackish  with  woe, 

While  the  blue  heavens  brood  softly  above  her, 
And  the  grass  groweth  greenly  below. 

RICHARD  REAI.P, 


The  Man  for  the  Hour. 

EDITION  says  that  when  of  old 
Great  Cadmus  needed  men, 
He  sowed  upon  the  new-turned  mould 
The  dragon's  teeth,  and  then 
Uprose  a  host  with  arms  bedight, 
Prepared  to  strive  in  instant  fight. 

All  day  the  doubtful  contest  raged 
With  spear  and  bow  and  shield  ; 

And  when  war  had  his  thirst  assuaged, 
There  stood  upon  the  field 

A  ch  osen  few,  who  built  the  walls 

Of  1  hebes,  and  graced  her  civic  halls. 

And  still,  if  unto  earth  there  come 

A  call  for  earnest  men, 
There  is  no  need  of  trump  or  drum 

To  rouse  them  up,  for  then 
The  cold  clods  quickly  stir  with  life,. 
And  men  are  born  for  instant  strife. 

For,  as  the  ages  come  and  go, 

The  leaders  of  the  van 
Are  proof  that  this  is  ever  so — 

The  hour  begets  Hie  man  ; 
He's  Nature's  heir,  and  he  alone 
Has  right  and  title  to  her  throne. 

Not  wealth,  nor  yet  a  long  descent 

Tnrough  many  a  famous  line, 
Can  give  this  power  to  mankind  lent 

F'roni  Nature's  hand  divine, 
For  with  the  call  there  comes  the  might 
Of  those  who  teach,  or  preach,  or  fight. 

A.  R. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 
Pliijjk  and  Prayer. 


633 


A?T""HERE  wa'n't  any  use  o'fretting, 
v9f     An'  I  told  Obadiah  so, 

For  ef  we  could  n't  hold  on  to  things, 
We'd  jest  got  to  let  'em  go. 
There  were  lots  of  folks  that  "d  suffer 

Along  with  the  rest  of  us, 
\n'  it  didn't  seem  to  be  wurth  our  while 
To  make  such  a  dreffle  fuss. 

fo  be  sure,  the  barn  was  'most  empty, 

An'  corn  an'  pertaters  sca'ce, 
An'  not  much  of  anything  plenty  an'  cheap, 

But  water — an'  apple-sass. 
But  then — as  I  told  Obadiah — 

It  wa'  n't  any  use  to  groan, 
For  flesh  an'  blood  could  n't  stan'  it;  an'  he 

Was  nothing  but  skin  an'  bone. 

But,  laws !  ef  you'd  only  heerd  him, 

At  any  hour  of  the  night, 
\-prayin'  out  in  that  closet  there, 

'Twould  have  set  you  crazy  quite. 
I  patched  the  knees  of  those  trousers 

With  cloth  that  was  noways  thin, 
But  it  seemed  as  ef  the  pieces  wore  out 

As  fast  as  I  set  'em  in. 

To  me  he  said  mighty  little 

Of  the  thorny  way  we  trod, 
But  at  least  a  dozen  times  a  day 

He  talked  it  over  with  God. 
Down  on  his  knees  in  that  closet 

The  most  of  his  time  was  passed ; 
For  Obadiah  knew  how  to  pray 

Much  better  than  how  to  fast. 

But  I  am  that  way  contrairy 

That  ef  things  don't  go  jest  right, 
I  feel  like  rolling  my  sleeves  up  high 

An'  gittin'  ready  to  fight. 
An'  the  giants  I  slew  that  winter 

I  ain't  goin'  to  talk  about ; 
An'  I  did  n't  even  complain  to  God, 

Though  I  think  that  He  found  it  out. 

With  the  point  of  a  cambric  needle 

I  druv  the  wolf  from  the  door, 
Por  I  knew  that  we  need  n't  starve  to  death 

Or  be  lazy  because  we  were  poor. 
An'  Obadiah  he  wondered, 

An'  kept  me  patchin'  his  knees, 
An'  thought  it  strange  how  the  meal  held  out, 

An'  stranger  we  did  n't  freeze. 


But  I  said  to  myself  in  whispers, 

"  God  knows  where  his  gift  descends ; 
An'  'tis  n't  always  that  faith  gits  down 

As  far  as  the  finger-ends. ' ' 
An'  I  would  n't  have  no  one  reckon 

My  Obadiah  a  shirk, 
For  some,  you  know,  have  the  gift  to  pray 

And  others  the  gift  to  work. 

JOSEPHINE 


"Jack." 

E  wore  a  pair  of  tattered  pants, 

A  ragged  roundabout, 
And  through  the  torn  crown  of  his  hat 
A  lock  of  hair  stuck  out ; 
He  had  no  shoes  upon  his  feet, 

No  shirt  upon  his  back  ; 
His  home  was  on  the  friendless  street, 
His  name  was  "Little  Jack." 

One  day  a  toddling  baby-boy, 

With  head  of  curly  hair, 
Escaped  his  loving  mother's  eyes, 

Who,  busy  with  her  care, 
Forgot  the  little  one,  who  crept 

Upon  a  railroad  near 
To  play  with  the  bright  pebbles  there, 

Without  a  thought  of  fear. 

But  see !  around  a  curve  there  comes 

A  swiftly  flying  train — 
It  rattles,  roars  !  the  whistle  shrieks 

With  all  its  might  and  main  ; 
The  mother  sees  her  child,  but  stands 

Transfixed  with  sudden  fright ! 
The  baby  claps  his  little  hands 

And  laughs  with  low  delight. 

Look !  look  !  a  tattered  figure  flies 

Adown  the  railroad  track ! 
His  hat  is  gone  !  his  feet  are  bare  I 

'Tis  ragged  "  Little  Jack!" 
He  grasps  the  child,  and  from  the  trad* 

The  babe  is  safely  tossed — 
A  slip  !  a  cry  !  the  train  rolls  by — 

Brave  "Little  Jack"  is  lost. 

They  found  his  mangled  body  there 

Just  where  he  slipped  and  fell — 
And  strong  men  wept  who  never  cared 

For  him  when  he  was  well. 
If  there  be  starry  crowns  in  heaven 

For  little  ones  to  wear, 
The  star  in  "  Little  Jack's"  shall  shine 

As  bright  as  any  there  ! 

EUGENE 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


Miss  Editli  Helps  Things  Along. 

sister  '11  be  down  in  a  minute,  and  says 
you  're  to  wait,  if  you  please, 
And  says  I  might  stay  'till  she  came,  if  I  'd 
promise  never  to  tease, 

Nor  speak  till  you  spoke  to  me  first.     But  that's  non 
sense,  for  how  would  you  know 

What  she  told  me  to  say,  if  I  did  n't?     Don't  you  really 
and  truly  think  so  ? 

"And  then  you'd  feel  strange  here  alone  I     And  you 

would  n't  know  just  where  to  sit ; 
For  that  chair  is  n't  strong  on  its  legs,  and  we  never 

use  it  a  bit ; 
We  keep  it  to  match  with  the  sofa.     But  Jack  says  it 

would  be  like  you 
To  flop  yourself  right  down  upon  it  and  knock  out  the 

very  last  screw. 

"{'••'pose  you  try?     I  won't  tell.     You  're  afraid  to! 

Oh  !  you  're  afraid  they  would  think  it  was  mean  ! 
^•'ell  then  there's  the  album — that's  pretty,  if  you  're 

sure  that  your  fingers  are  clean ; 
?'or  sister  says  sometimes  I  daub  it,  but  she  only  says 

that  when  she's  cross, 
there's  her  picture.     You  know  it  ?    It's  like  her,  but 

she  ain't  as  good-looking,  of  course  ! 

*  This  is  me.     It's  the  best  of  'em  all.     Now,  tell  me, 

you'd  never  have  thought 
That  once  I  was  little  as  that?     It's  the  only  one  that 

could  be  bought — 
For  that  was  the  message  to  pa  from  the  photograph 

man  where  I  sat — 
That  he  would  n't  print  off  any  more  till  he  first  got  his 

money  for  that. 

"  What  ?     Maybe  you  're  tired  of  waiting.    Why,  often 

she's  longer  than  this  ; 
There's  all  her  back  hair  to  do  up  and  all  of  her  front 

curls  to  friz ; 
But  it's  nice  to  be  sitting  here  talking  like  grown 

people,  just  you  and  me. 
Do  you  think  you  '11  be  coming  here  often  ?     Oh,  do  I 

But  do'nt  come  like  Tom  I^ee. 

:'Tom  Lee?    Her   last   beau.     Why,  my  goodness! 

He  used  to  be  here  day  and  night, 
Till  the  folks  thought  he'd  be  her  husband,  and  Jack 

says  that  gave  him  a  fright. 
ITou  won't  run  away,  then,  as  he  did  ?  for  you  're  not 

a  rich  man,  they  say  ; 
Pa  says  you  are  as  poor  as  a  church  mouse.     Now,  are 

you  ?  and  how  poor  are  they  ? 


"Ain't  you  glad  that  you  met  me  ?     Well  /am  for  I 

know  now  your  hair  is  n't  red ; 
But  what  there's  left  of  it  is  mousy,  and  not  what  that 

naughty  Jack  said. 
But  there  !     I  must  go  ;  sister  's  coming.     But  I  wish 

I  could  wait  just  to  see 
If  she  ran  up  to  you  and  kissed  you  in  the  way  that 

she  used  to  kiss  Lee."  BRET  HARTB. 


After  the  Burial. 

'ES,  Faith  is  a  goodly  anchor 

When  skies  are  sweet  as  a  psalm 
It  lolls  at  the  bows  so  stalwart 
In  bluff,  broad-shouldered  calm. 

And  when  over  breakers  to  leeward 
The  tattered  surges  are  hurled, 

It  may  keep  our  head  to  the  tempest, 
With  its  grip  on  the  base  of  the  world. 

But,  after  the  shipwreck,  tell  me 

What  help  in  its  iron  thews, 
Still  true  to  the  broken  hawser, 

Deep  down  among  seaweed  and  ooze  ? 

In  the  breaking  gulfs  of  sorrow, 
When  the  helpless  feet  stretch  out, 

And  find  in  the  deeps  of  darkness 
No  footing  so  solid  as  doubt ; 

Then  better  one  spar  of  memory, 
One  broken  plank  of  the  Past, 

Thr.t  our  human  heart  may  cling  to, 
Though  hopeless  of  shore  at  last ! 

To  the  spirit  its  splendid  conjectures^ 
To  the  flesh  its  sweet  despair, 

Its  tears  o'er  the  thin  worn  locket 
With  its  anguish  of  deathless  hair  f 

Immortal  ?  I  feel  it  and  know  it ; 

Who  doubts  it  of  such  as  she  ? 
But  that  is  the  pang's  very  secret — 

Immortal  away  from  me ! 

There's  a  narrow  ridge  in  the  graveyard 
Would  scarce  stay  a  child  in  his  race ; 

But  to  me  and  my  thought  it  is  wider 
Than  the  star-sown  vague  of  space. 

Your  logic,  my  friend,  is  perfect, 
Your  moral's  most  drearily  true  ; 

But  since  the  earth  clashed  on  her  coffin^ 
I  keep  hearing  that,  and  not  you. 

Console,  if  you  will ;  I  can  bear  it ; 

'Tis  well-meant  alms  of  breath  ; 
But  not  all  the  preaching  since  Adam 

Has  made  Death  other  than  Death. 


CHOICE   SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


635 


It  is  pagan  :  but  wait  till  you  feel  it, 
That  jar  of  our  earth,  that  dull  shock, 

When  the  ploughshare  of  deeper  passion 
Tears  down  to  our  primitive  rock. 

Communion  in  spirit?  Forgive  me, 
But  I,  who  am  earthly  and  weak, 

Would  give  all  my  incomes  from  dreamland 
For  her  rose-leaf  palm  on  my  cheek  I 

That  little  shoe  in  the  corner, 

So  worn  and  wrinkled  and  brown- 
Its  emptiness  confutes  you, 

And  argues  your  wisdom  down. 

JAMES  R.  LOWEW,. 


The  Men  Who  Do  Not  Lift. 

world  is  sympathetic  ;  the  statement  none  can 
doubt. 

When  A's  in  trouble  don't  we  think  that  B  should 
help  aim  out  ? 
Of  course  we  haven't  time  ourselves  to  care  for  any 

one, 

But  yet  we  hope  that  other  folks  will  see  that  it  is  done. 
We  want  the  grief  and  penury  of  earth  to  be  relieved  ; 
We'd  have  the  battles  grandly  fought,  the  victories 

achieved ; 
We  do  not  care  19  take  the  lead,  and  stand  the  brush 

and  brunt ; 

At  lifting  we're  a  failure,  but  we're  splendid  on  the 
grunt. 

And  there  are  others,  so  we  find,  as  on  our  way  we  jog, 
Who  want  to  do  their  lifting  on  the  small  end  of  the  log ; 
They  do  a  lot  of  blowing,  and  they  strive  to  make  it 

known 
That  were  there  no  one  else  to  help,  they'd  lift  it  all 

alone. 
If  talking  were  effective,  there  are  scores  and  scores  of 

men 
Who'd  move  a  mountain  off  its  base  and  move  it  back 

again. 
But  as  a  class,  to  state  it  plain,  in  language  true  and 

blunt, 
They're  never  worth  a  cent  to  lift,  for  all  they  do  is 

grunt. 


The  Blind  Man  and  the  Lame  One. 

kNE  day  a  blind  man  chanced  to  mee 
'A  lame  one  limping  in  the  street ; 
The  former  hoped  with  fond  delight, 
The  latter  would  conduct  him  right. 


The  lame  man  cried,  "  Lend  aid  to  theef 

"  I  cannot  walk,  unhappy  me  ! 

"And  yet,  methinks,  to  bear  a  load, 

"  Thou  hast  good  shoulders  strong  and  broad. 

"If  thou'lt  resolve  to  bear  me  hence, 
"  I'll  be  thy  guide  as  recompense  ; 
"Thy  firm  strong  foot  will  then  be  mine, 
"And  my  bright  eye  be  also  thine." 

The  lame  man,  with  his  crutches,  rode 
Upon  the  blind  man 's  shoulders  broad, 
United  thus  achieved  the  pair 
What  each  would  have  accomplished  ne'er 

The  gifts  of  others  thou  hast  not, 
While  others  want  what  thou  hast  got ; 
And  from  this  imperfection  springs 
The  good  that  social  virtue  brings. 

If  other  men  the  gifts  possessed 
With  which  by  Nature  I  am  blest, 
Their  care  but  for  themselves  would  be, 
They  ne'er  would  waste  a  thought  on  me. 

Plague  not  the  gods  with  wail  and  cry ! 
The  gifts  which  they  to  thee  deny, 
And  give  another,  profit  thee  ; 
We  need  but  sociability. 

CHRISTIAN 


Lines  to  an  Indian  Air. 

I  ARISE  from  dreams  of  thee 
In  the  first  sweet  sleep  of  night, 
When  the  winds  are  breathing  low, 
And  the  stars  are  shining  bright. 
I  arise  from  dreams  of  thee, 

And  a  spirit  in  my  feet 
Has  led  me — who  knows  how? 
To  thy  chamber-window,  sweet  I 

The  wandering  airs,  they  faint 
On  the  dark,  the  silent  stream — 

The  champak  odors  fail 

Like  sweet  thoughts  in  a  dream  ; 

The  nightingale's  complaint, 
It  dies  upon  her  heart, 

As  I  must  die  on  thine, 

0  beloved  as  thou  art ! 

O  lift  me  from  the  grass  ! 

1  die,  I  faint,  I  fail ! 
Let  thy  love  in  kisses  rain 

On  my  lips  and  eyelids  pale. 

My  cheek  is  cold  and  white,  alas  I 

My  heart  beats  loud  and  fast ; 
Oh  !  press  it  close  to  thine  again, 

Where  it  will  break  at  last. 

PERCY  BYSSHE  SHEI,WCY, 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


The  Two  Glasses. 

IERE  sat  two  glasses,  filled  to  the  brim, 
'On  a  rich  man's  table,  rim  to  rim  ; 
One  was  ruddy,  and  red  as  blood, 
And  one  was  clear  as  the  crystal  £jod. 

Said  the  glass  of  wine  to  his  paler  brother, 

"Let  us  tell  tales  of  the  past  to  each  other. 

I  can  tell  of  banquet,  and  revel,  and  mirth, 

Where  I  was  king,  for  I  ruled  in  might, 

And  the  proudest  and  grandest  souls  on  earth 

Fell  under  my  touch,  as  though  struck  with  blight. 

From  the  heads  of  kings  I  have  torn  the  crown, 

Foom  the  heights  of  fame  I  have  hurled  men  down ; 

I  have  blasted  many  an  honored  name ; 

I  have  taken  virtue,  and  given  shame ; 

I  have  tempted  the  youth  with  a  sip,  a  taste. 

Which  has  made  his  future  a  barren  waste. 

Far  greater  than  any  king  am  I, 

Or  than  any  army  beneath  the  sky  : 

I  have  made  the  arm  of  the  driver  fail, 

And  sent  the  train  from  its  iron  rail ; 

I  have  made  good  ships  go  down  at  sea, 

And  the  shrieks  of  the  lost  were  sweet  to  me, 

For  they  said,  '  Behold,  how  great  you  be  ! 

Fame,  strength,  wealth,  genius,  before  you  fall, 

And  your  might  and  power  are  over  all.' 

flo!  ho  !  pale  brother,"  laughed  the  wine, 

"  Can  you  boast  of  deeds  as  great  as  mine?" 

Said  the  water  glass :  "I  cannot  boast 

Of  a  king  dethroned,  or  a  murdered  host ; 

But  I  can  tell  of  hearts  that  were  sad, 

By  my  crystal  drops  made  light  and  glad  ; 

Of  thirsts  I  have  quenched,  and  brows  I've  "laved ; 

Of  hands  I  have  cooled,  and  souls  I've  saved. 

I  have  leaped  through  the  valley,  dashed  down  the 

mountain, 

Slept  in  the  sunshine,  and  dripped  from  the  fountain  ; 
I  have  burst  my  cloud  fetters  and  dropped  from  the  sky , 
And  everywhere  gladdened  the  landscape  eye. 
I  have  eased  the  hot  forehead  of  fever  and  pain, 
I  have  made  the  parched  meadows  grow  fertile  with 

grain ; 

I  can  tell  of  the  powerful  wheel  of  the  mill 
That  ground  out  the  flour,  and  turned  at  my  will ; 
I  can  tell  of  manhood,  debased  by  you, 
That  I  have  uplifted  and  crowned  anew. 
I  cheer,  I  help,  I  strengthen  and  aid, 
I  gladden  the  heart  of  man  and  maid ; 
I  set  the  chained  wine-captive  free, 
And  all  are  better  for  knowing  me." 

These  are  the  tales  they  told  to  each  other, 
The  glass  of  wine  and  its  paler  brother, 
As  they  sat  together,  filled  to  the  brim, 
On  a  rich  man's  table,  rim  to  rim. 

WHEELER 


Our  Baby. 

the  morning,  half  in  shadow, 
'Ran  along  the  hill  and  meadow, 
And  with  milk-white  fingers  parted 
Crimson  roses,  golden-hearted ; 
Opening  over  ruins  hoary 
Every  purple  morning-glory, 
And  outshaking  from  the  bushes 
Singing  larks  and  pleasant  thrushes ; 
That's  the  time  our  little  baby, 
Stiayed  from  Paradise,  it  may  be, 
Came  with  eyes  like  heaven  above  her, 
Oh,  we  could  not  choose  but  love  her  I 

Not  enough  of  earth  for  sinning, 
Always  gentle,  always  winning, 
Never  needing  our  reproving, 
Ever  lively,  ever  loving ; 
Starry  eyes  and  sunset  tresses, 
White  arms,  made  for  light  caresses, 
Lips,  that  knew  no  word  of  doubting. 
Often  kissing,  never  pouting : 
Beauty  even  in  completeness. 
Overfull  of  childish  sweetness  ; 
That's  the  way  our  little  baby, 
Far  too  pure  for  earth,  it  may  be, 
Seemed  to  us,  who  while  about  her 
Deemed  we  could  not  do  without  hex* 

When  the  morning,  half  in  shadow. 
Ran  along  the  hill  and  meadow, 
And  with  milk-white  fingers  parted 
Crimson  roses,  golden-hearted ; 
Opening  over  ruins  hoary 
Every  purple  moruiug-glory, 
And  outshaking  from  the  bushes 
Singing  larks  and  pleasant  thrushes; 
That's  the  time  our  little  baby, 
Pining  here  for  heaven,  it  may  be, 
Turning  from  our  bitter  weeping, 
Closed  her  eyes  as  when  in  sleeping, 
And  her  white  hands  on  her  bosom 
Folded  like  a  summer  blossom. 

Now  the  litter  she  doth  lie  on, 
Strewed  with  roses,  bear  to  Zion ; 
Go,  as  past  a  pleasant  meadow, 
Through  the  valley  of  the  shadow ! 
Take  her  softly,  holy  angels, 
Past  the  ranks  of  God's  evangels  ; 
Past  the  saints  and  martyrs  holy 
To  the  Earth-born,  meek  and  lowly, 
We  would  have  our  precious  blossom 
Softly  laid  in  Jesus"  bosom. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


637 


lattle  Dora's  Soliloquy. 

If  AN'T  see  what  our  baby  boy  is  dood  for  anyway  ; 
tie  don't  know  how  to  walk  or  talk,  he  don't  know 

how  to  play ; 

He  tears  up  ev'ry  single  zing  he  posser-bil-ly  tan, 
An'  even  tried  to  break,  one  day,  my  mamma's  bestest 

fan. 
He's  al'ays  tumblin'  'bout  ze  floor,  an'  gives  us  awful 

scares, 
An'  when  he  goes  to  bed  at  night,  he  never  says  his 

prayers. 

On  Sunday,  too,  he  musses  up  my  go-to-meetin'  clothes, 
An'  once  I  foun'  him  hard  at  work  a-pinc'in'  Dolly's 

nose; 
An'  ze  uzzer  day  zat  naughty  boy  (now  what  you  s'pose 

you  zink  ?) 

Upset  a  dreat  big  bottle  of  my  papa's  writin'  ink; 
An',  'stead  of  kyin'  dood  an'  hard,  as  course  he  ought 

to  done, 
He  laughed,  and  kicked  his  head  'most  off,  as  zo  he 

zought  'twas  fun. 
He  even  tries  to  reach  up  high,  an'  pull  zings  off  ze 

shelf, 
An'  he's  al'ays  wantin'  you,   of  course,  just't  when 

you  want  you'self. 

I  rather  dess,  I  really  do,  from  how  he  pulls  my  turls, 
Zey  all  was  made  a-purpose  for  to  'noy  us  little  dirls  ; 
An'  I  wish  zere  wasn't  no  such  zing  as  naughty  baby 

ooys — 
Why — why  ;  zat's  him  a-kyin'  now  ;  he  makes  a  drefful 

noise, 

I  dess  I  better  run  and  see,  for  if  he  has — boo-hoo  ! 
Felled  down  ze  stairs  and  killed  his-self,  whatever 

s-s-s'all  I  do ! 


The  Treasure  Diggers. 

I  VINTNER,  at  the  point  of  death, 
Spake  to  his  sons  with  parting  breath ; 
"A  treasure  in  our  vineyard  lies. 
"  Dig  for  it !" — "  Say,  where  is  the  prize?" 

Aloud  they  to  their  father  cried. 
"  Dig,  dig  !"  he  said,  when  lo  !  he  died. 

Ere  in  his  grave  he  long  had  lain, 

They  searched  and  dug  with  might  and  main. 

With  spade,  and  mattock,  and  with  hoe 

The  vineyard  o'er  and  o'er  they  throw. 

No  clod  escaped  their  zealous  toil, 

E'en  through  a  sieve  they  passed  the  soil, 

And  drew  the  rakes  across,  around ; 

For  every  stone  upon  the  ground. 

But  of  the  treasure  saw  no  trace, 

Each  thought  'twas  but  a  wild  goose  chase. 


But  scarce  the  sun  its  yearly  round 
Had  made,  when  they  with  wonder  found 
Each  vine-tree  bore  a  threefold  prize. 
Then  grew  at  length  the  children  wise, 
And,  year  on  year  revolving  round, 
Dug  greater  treasures  from  the  ground. 

Good  folks,  to  dig  the  earth  for  treasure 
Is  sometimes  no  such  foolish  measure. 
GOTTFRIED  AUGUST 


Over  the  Iliver. 

,VER  the  river  they  beckon  to  me, 
Loved  ones  who  crossed  to  the  other  side ; 
The  gleam  of  their  snowy  robes  I  see, 
But  their  voices  are  drowned  by  the  rushing  tide. 
There's  one  with  ringlets  of  sunny  gold, 

And  eyes  the  reflection  of  heaven's  own  blue ; 
He  crossed  in  the  twilight  gray  and  cold, 
And  the  pale  mist  hid  him  from  mortal  view. 

We  saw  not  the  angels  that  met  him  there — 

The  gates  of  the  city  we  could  not  see  ; 
Over  the  river,  over  the  river, 

My  brother  stands,  waiting  to  welcome  me. 
Over  the  river  the  boatman  pale 

Carried  another,  the  household  pet ; 
Her  brown  curls  waved  in  the  gentle  gale — 

Darling  Minnie !     I  see  her  yet ; 

She  closed  on  her  bosom  her  dimpled  hands, 

And  fearlessly  entered  the  phantom  bark ; 
We  watched  it  glide  from  the  silver  sands, 

And  all  our  sunshine  grew  strangely  dark. 
We  know  she  is  safe  on  the  further  side, 

Where  all  the  ransomed  and  angels  be  ; 
Over  the  river,  the  mystic  river, 

My  childhood's  idol  is  waiting  for  me. 

For  none  return  from  those  quiet  shores, 

Who  cross  with  the  boatman  cold  and  pale ; 
We  hear  the  dip  of  the  golden  oars, 

And  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  snowy  sail ; 
And  lo !  they  have  passed  from  our  yearning  iie"irt£ 

They  cross  the  stream  and  are  gone  for  aye. 
We  may  not  sunder  the  veil  apart 

That  hides  from  our  vision  the  gates  of  day ;. 

We  only  know  that  their  barks  no  more 

Sail  with  us  o'er  life's  stormy  sea  ; 
Yet  somewhere,  I  know,  on  the  unseen  shore, 

They  watch  and  beckon,  and  wait  for  me. 
And  I  sit  and  think  when  the  sunset's  gold 

Is  flashing  on  river,  and  hill,  and  shore, 
I  shall  one  day  stand  by  the  waters  cold 

And  list  to  the  sound  of  the  boatman's  oar. 


638 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


I  shall  watch  for  the  gleam  of  the  flapping  sail ; 

I  shall  hear  the  boat  as  it  gains  the  strand ; 
I  shall  pass  from  sight  with  the  boatman  pale 

To  the  better  shore  of  the  spirit-land. 
I  shall  know  the  loved  who  have  gone  before, 

And  joyfully  sweet  will  the  meeting  be, 
When  over  the  river,  the  peaceful  river, 

The  angel  of  death  shall  carry  me. 

NANCY  A.  W.  PRIEST. 


The  River  Path. 

,  O  bird-song  floated  down  the  hill, 
[The  tangled  bank  below  was  still ; 

No  rustle  from  the  birchen  stem, 
No  ripple  from  the  water's  hem. 

The  dusk  of  twilight  round  us  grew, 
We  felt  the  falling  of  the  dew : 

For,  from  us  ere  the  day  was  done, 
The  wooded  hills  shut  out  the  sun. 

But  on  the  river's  farther  side, 
We  saw  the  hill-tops  glorified, — 

A  tender  glow,  exceeding  fair, 
A  dream  of  day  without  its  glare. 

With  us  the  damp,  the  chill,  the  gloom  ; 
With  them  the  sunset's  rosy  bloom  ; 

While  dark,  through  willowy  vistas  seen, 
The  river  rolled  in  shade  between. 

From  out  the  darkness  where  we  trod, 
We  gazed  upon  those  hills  of  God, 

Whose  light  seemed  not  of  morn  or  sun ; 
We  spake  not,  but  our  thought  was  one. 

We  paused,  as  if  from  that  bright  shore 
Beckoned  our  dear  ones  gone  before  ; 

And  stilled  our  beating  hearts  to  hear 
The  voices  lost  to  mortal  ear ! 

Sudden  our  pathway  turned  from  right ; 
The  hills  swung  open  to  the  light ; 

Through  their  green  gates  the  sunshine  showed, 
A  long  slant  splendor  downward  flowed. 

Down  glade  and  glen  and  bank  it  rolled : 
It  bridged  the  shaded  stream  with  gold : 

And,  borne  on  piers  of  mist,  allied 
The  shadowy  with  the  sunlit  side  ! 

"  So,"  prayed  we,  "  when  our  feet  draw  near 
The  river  dark  with  mortal  fear. 


"And  the  night  cometh,  chill  with  dew, 
O  Father,  let  thy  light  break  through  ! 

"  So  let  the  hills  of  doubt  divide, 
To  bridge  with  faith  the  sunless  tideV 

"  So  let  the  eyes  that  fail  on  earth 
O'er  thy  eternal  hills  look  forth  : 

"And  in  thy  beckoning  angels  know 
The  dear  ones  whom  we  loved  below !" 

JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTIER. 


I 


The  Golden  Street. 

[B  toil  is  very  long  and  I  am  tired : 
Oh,  Father,  I  am  weary  of  the  way  ! 
Give  me  that  rest  I  have  so  long  desired ; 
Bring  me  that  Sabbath's  cool  refreshing  day, 
And  let  the  fever  of  *ny  world-worn  feet 
Press  the  cool  smoothness  of  the  golden  street. 

Tired, — very  tired  !     And  I  at  times  have  seen, 
When  the  far  pearly  gates  were  open  thrown 
For  those  who  walked  no  more  with  me,  the  greeu 
Sweet  foliage  of  the  trees  that  there  alone 

At  last  wave  over  those  whose  world-worn  feet 
Press  the  cool  smoothness  of  the  golden  street. 

When  the  gates  open,  and  before  they  close — 
Sad  hours  but  holy — I  have  watched  the  tide 
Whose  living  crystal  there  forever  flows 
Before  the  throne,  and  sadly  have  I  sighed 
To  think  how  long  until  my  world-worn  feet 
Press  the  cool  smoothness  of  the  golden  street. 

They  shall  not  wander  from  that  blessed  way ; 

Nor  heat,  nor  cold,  nor  weariness,  nor  sin, 
Nor  any  clouds  in  that  eternal  day 

Trouble  them  more  who  once  have  entered  in  J 
But  all  is  rest  to  them  whose  world-worn  fee* 
Press  the  cool  smoothness  of  the  golden  street. 

Thus  the  gates  close  and  I  behold  no  more, 

Though,  as  I  walk,  they  open  oftener  now 
For  those  who  leave  me  and  go  on  before ; 
And  I  am  lonely  also  while  I  bow 

And  think  of  those  dear  souls  whose  world- worn  feet 
Press  the  cool  smoothness  of  the  golden  street. 

Tired,  very  tired ! — but  I  will  patient  be, 
Nor  will  I  murmur  at  the  weary  way ; 
I  too  shall  walk  beside  the  crystal  sea, 

And  pluck  the  ripe  fruit,  all  that  God-lit  day, 

When  thou,  O  Lord,  shalt  let  my  world-worn  feet 
Press  the  cool  smoothness  of  the  golden  street. 

O.  STODDARD. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


Maude  and  Madge. 

EY  sat  and  combed  their  beautiful  hair, 
Their  long  bright  tresses,  one  by  one, 
As  they  laughed  and  talked  in  their  chamber  there, 
After  the  revel  was  done. 

Idly  they  talked  of  waltz  and  quadrille, 

Idly  they  laughed  like  other  girls, 
Who  over  the  fire,  when  all  is  still, 

Comb  out  their  braids  and  curls. 

Robes  of  satin  and  Brussels  lace, 

Knots  of  flowers,  and  ribbons,  too, 
Scattered  about  in  every  place, 

For  the  revel  is  through. 

And  Maud  and  Madge  in  robes  of  white, 
The  prettiest  night-gowns  under  the  sun, 

Stockingless,  slipperless,  sit  in  the  night, 
For  the  revel  is  done  : — 

Sit  and  comb  their  beautiful  hair, 

Those  wonderful  waves  of  brown  and  gold, 

Till  the  fire  is  out  in  the  chamber  there, 
And  the  little  bare  feet  are  cold : 

Then  out  of  the  gathering  winter  chill, 
All  out  of  the  bitter  St.  Agnes  weather, 

While  the  fire  is  out  and  the  house  is  still, 
Maud  and  Madge  together, — 

Maud  and  Madge  in  robes  of  white, 

The  prettiest  night-gowns  under  the  sun, 

Curtained  away  from  the  chilly  night, 
After  the  revel  is  done, 

Float  along  in  a  splendid  dream, 

To  a  golden  gittern's  tinkling  tune, 
While  a  thousand  lusters  shimmering  stream 

In  a  palace's  grand  saloon, 

Flashing  of  jewels  and  nutter  of  laces 

Tropical  odors  sweeter  than  musk, 
Men  and  women  with  beautiful  faces, 

And  eyes  of  tropical  dusk. 

And  one  face  shining  out  like  a  star, 

One  face  haunting  the  dreams  of  each, 
And  one  voice,  sweeter  than  others  are, 

Breaking  in  silvery  speech  ; 

Telling  through  lips  of  bearded  bloom 

An  old,  old  story  over  again, 
As  down  the  royal  bannered  room, 

To  the  golden  gittern's  strain, 

Two  and  two  they  dreamily  walk, 

While  an  unseen  spirit  walks  beside, 
And,  all  unheard  in  the  lover's  talk, 

He  claimeth  one  for  his  bride. 


O  Maud  and  Madge,  dream  011  together, 
With  never  a  pang  of  jealous  fear ! 

For,  ere  the  bitter  St.  Agnes  weather 
Shall  whiten  another  year, 

Robed  for  the  bridal  and  robed  for  the  tomb, 
Braided  brown  hair  and  golden  tress, 

There  '11  be  only  one  of  you  left  for  the  bloom 
Of  the  bearded  lips  to  press. 

Only  one  for  the  bridal  pearls, 

The  robe  of  satin  and  Brussels  lace— 

Only  one  to  blush  through  her  curls 
At  the  sight  of  a  lover's  face. 

O  beautiful  Madge,  in  your  bridal  white  I 
For  you  the  revel  has  just  begun  ; 

But  for  her  who  sleeps  in  your  arms  to-night 
The  revel  of  Life  is  done  ! 

But  robed  and  crowned  with  your  saintly  bliss. 
Queen  of  Heaven  and  bride  of  the  sun, 

O  beautiful  Maud,  you'll  never  miss 
The  kisses  another  hath  won  ! 

NORA 


Ships  at  Sea. 

I  HAVE  ships  that  went  to  sea, 
More  than  fifty  years  ago  ; 
None  have  yet  come  home  to  me, 
But  are  sailing  to  and  fro. 
I  have  seen  them  in  my  sleep, 
Plunging  through  the  shoreless  deep, 
With  tattered  sails  and  battered  hulls, 
While  round  them  screamed  the  gulls* 
Flying  low,  flying  low. 

I  have  wondered  why  they  strayed 

From  me,  sailing  round  the  world ; 
And  I've  said,  "  I'm  half  afraid 

That  their  sails  will  ne'er  be  furled. ' 
Great  the  treasures  that  they  hold, 
Silks,  and  plumes,  and  bars  of  gold; 
While  the  spices  that  they  bear, 
Fill  with  fragrance  all  the  air, 
As  they  sail,  as  they  sail. 

Ah  !  each  sailor  in  the  port 

Knows  that  I  have  ships  at  sea, 
Of  the  waves  and  winds  the  sport- 

And  the  sailors  pity  me. 
Oft  they  come  and  with  me  walkj 
Cheering  me  with  hopeful  talk, 
Till  I  put  my  fears  aside, 
And,  contented,  watch  the  tide 
Rise  and  fall,  rise  and  fall. 


640 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


I  have  waited  on  the  piers, 

Gazing  for  them  down  the  bay, 

Days  and  nights  for  many  years, 
Till  I  turned  heart-sick  away. 

But  the  pilots,  when  they  land, 

Stop  and  take  me  by  the  hand, 

Saying,  "  You  will  live  to  see 

Your  proud  vessels  come  from  sea, 
One  and  all,  one  and  all." 

So  I  never  quite  desp  air, 

Nor  let  hope  or  courage  fail ; 
And  some  day,  when  skies  are  fair, 

Up  the  bay  my  ships  will  sail. 
I  shall  buy  then  all  I  need, — 
Prints  to  look  at,  books  to  read, 
Horses,  wines,  and  works  of  art, 
Everything — except  a  heart, 
That  is  lost,  that  is  lost. 

Once,  when  I  was  pure  and  young, 

Richer,  too,  than  I  am  now, 
Ere  a  cloud  was  o'er  me  flung, 

Or  a  wrinkle  creased  my  brow, 
There  was  one  whose  heart  was  mine; 
But  she's  something  now  divine, 
And  though  come  my  ships  from  sea, 
They  can  bring  no  heart  to  me 
Evermore,  evermore. 

ROBERT  B.  COFFIN. 


The  Courtin'. 

\  OD  makes  sech  nights,  all  white  an'  still 

Fur  'z  you  can  look  or  listen 
Moonshine  an'  snow  on  field  an'  hill 
silence  an'  all  glisten. 

Zekel  crep'  quite  unbeknown 

An'  peeked  in  thru'  the  winder, 
An'  there  sot  Huldy  all  alone, 

'Itli  no  one  nigh  to  hender. 

A  fireplace  filled  the  room's  one  side 

With  half  a  cord  o'  wood  in — 
There  warn't  no  stoves  (tell  comfort  died) 

To  bake  ye  to  a  puddin'. 

The  wa'nut  logs  shot  sparkles  out 

Towards  the  pootiest,  bless  her  ! 
An'  leetle  flames  danced  all  about 

The  chiny  on  the  dresser. 

Agin  'he  chimbley  crook  necks  hung, 

An'  in  among  'em  rustxl 
The  o'd  queen's-arm  thet  gfan'ther  Young 

Fetched  back  from  Concord  busted. 


The  very  room,  coz  she  was  in, 

Seemed  warm  from  floor  to  ceilin* ; 

An'  she  looked  full  ez  rosy  agin, 
Ez  the  apples  she  was  peelin.' 

'Twas  kin'  o'  kingdom-come  to  look 

On  such  a  blessed  creetur, 
A  dogrose  blushin'  to  a  brooK 

Ain't  modester  nor  sweeter. 

He  was  six  foot  o'  man,  A  i, 

Clean  grit  an'  human  natur'  ; 
None  couldn't  quicker  pitch  a  ton 

Nor  dror  a  furrer  straighter. 

He'd  sparked  it  with  full  twenty  gals, 
He'd  scuired  'em,  danced  'em,  druv  'etn$ 

Fust  this  one,  an'  then  thet,  by  spells — 
All  is,  .ie  couldn't  love  'em. 

But  long  o'  her  his  veins  'ould  run 

All  crinkly  like  curled  maple, 
The  side  she  breshed  felt  full  O'SUH. 

Ez  a  south  slope  in  Ap'il. 

She  thought  no  v'ice  hed  sech  a  swing 

Ez  hisn  in  the  choir  ; 
My  !  when  he  made  "  Ole  Hundred"  nag. 

She  knowed  the  Lord  was  nigher. 

An'  she'd  blush  scarlet,  right  in  prayer, 
When  her  new  meetin'  bunnet 

Felt  somehow  thru'  its  crown  a  pair 
O'  blue  eyes  sot  upon  it. 

She  heered  a  foot,  an'  knowed  it  tu, 

A  raspin'  on  the  scraper — 
All  ways  to  once  her  feelin's  flew 

Like  sparks  in  burnt-up  paper. 

He  kin'  o'  1'itered  on  the  mat, 

Some  doubtfle  o'  the  sekle, 
His  heart  kep'  goin'  pity-pat, 

But  hern  went  pity  Zekle. 

An*  yit  she  gin  her  cheer  a  jerk 
Ez  though  she  wished  him  furder. 

An'  on  her  apples  kep'  to  work, 
Parin'  away  like  murder. 

"  You  want  to  see  my  Pa,  I  s'pose  ?" 

"Wall  ....  no  ....  I  come  designin'— 
"To  see  my  Ma?  She's  sprinklin'  clo'es 
Agin  to-morrer's  i'nin'." 

To  say  why  gals  act  so  or  so, 

Or  don't  'ould  be  presumin' ; 
Mebby  to  mean  yes  an'  say  no 

Comes  nateral  to  women. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


641 


He  stood  a  spell  011  one  foot  fust, 
Then  stood  a  spell  ou  t'other, 

An'  on  which  one  he  felt  the  wust 
He  couldn't  ha'  told  ye  nuther. 

Says  he,  "I'd  better  call  agin ;" 
Says  she  "Think  likely,  Mister;" 

That  last  word  pricked  him  like  a  pin 
An    ....  Wai,  he  up  an'  kist  her 

When  Ma  bimeby  upon  'em  slips, 

Huldy  sot  pale  ez  ashes, 
All  kin'  o"  smily  roun'  the  lips 

An*  teary  roun'  the  lashes. 

For  she  was  jes'  the  quiet  kind 

Whose  naturs  never  vary, 
Like  streams  that  keep  a  summer  mind 

Snowhid  in  Jenooary. 

The  blood  clost  roun1  her  heart  felt  glued 

Too  tight  for  all  expressin', 
Till  mother  see  how  metters  stood, 

And  gin  'em  both  her  blessin'. 

Then  her  red  come  back  like  the  tide 

Down  to  the  Bay  o'  Fundy, 
An*  all  I  know  is,  they  was  cried 

In  meetin'  come  nex'  Sunday. 

JAMES  RUSSEU, 


On  Recrossing  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

years  ago  I  wandered  here, 
In  the  midsummer  of  the  year, — 

Life's  summer  too ; 
A  score  of  horsemen  here  we  rode, 
The  mountain  world  its  glories  showed. 
All  fair  to  view. 

These  scenes  in  glowing  colors  drest, 
Mirrored  the  life  within  my  breast, 

Its  world  of  hopes ; 

The  whispering  woods  and  fragrant  breeze 
That  stirred  the  grass  in  verdant  seas 

On  billow}-  slopes. 

And  glistening  crag  in  sunlit  sky, 

Mid  snowy  clouds  piled  mountains  high, 

Were  joys  to  me ; 

My  path  was  o'er  the  prairie  wide, 
Or  here  on  grander  mountain-side, 

To  choose,  all  free. 

The  rose  that  waved  in  morning  air, 
And  spread  its  dewy  fragrance  there 

In  careless  bloom, 
Gave  to  my  heart  its  ruddiest  hue, 
O'er  my  glad  life  its  color  threw 

And  sweet  perfume. 
41 


The  buoyant  hopes  and  busy  life 
Have  ended  all  in  hateful  strife, 

And  thwarted  aim. 

The  world's  rude  contact  killed  the  ro«c 
No  more  its  radiant  color  shows 

False  roads  to  fame. 

Backward,  amidst  the  twilight  glow 
Some  lingering  spots  yet  brightly  show 

On  hard  roads  won, 

Where  still  some  grand  peaks  mark  the  way, 
Touched  by  the  light  of  parting  day 

And  memory's  sun. 

But  here  thick  clouds  the  mountains  hide. 
The  dim  horizon  bleak  and  wide 

No  pathway  shows, 
And  rising  gusts,  and  darkening  sky, 
Tell  of  "  the  night  that  cometh,"  nigh, 

The  brief  day's  close. 

JOHN  C.  FREMONT. 


The  Old  Hearthstone. 

k  Y  son,  thou  wilt  dream  the  world  is  fair, 

And  thy  spirit  will  sigh  to  roam, 
And  thou  must  go  ;  but  never,  when  there. 
Forget  the  light  of  home  I 

Though  pleasure  may  smile  with  a  ray  more  bright; 

It  dazzles  to  lead  astray 
Like  the  meteor's  flash,  'twill  deepen  the  night 

When  treading  thy  lonely  way : — 

But  the  hearth  of  home  has  a  constant  flame, 

And  pure  as  a  vestal  fire — 
Twill  burn,  'twill  burn  forever  the  same. 

For  nature  feeds  the  pyre. 

The  sea  of  ambition  is  tempest-tossed, 
And  thy  hopes  may  vanish  like  foam — 

When  sails  are  shiver'd  and  compass  lost. 
Then  look  to  the  light  of  home  I 

And  there,  like  a  star  through  midnignt  cloud. 

Thou'lt  see  the  beacon  bright ; 
For  never,  till  shining  on  thy  shroud, 

Can  be  quenched  its  holy  light. 

The  sun  of  fame  may  guild  the  name, 

But  the  heart  ne'er  felt  its  ray ; 
And  fashion's  smiles,  that  rich  ones  claim. 

Are  beams  of  a  wintry  day. 

How  cold  and  dim  those  beams  would  be, 

Should  life's  poor  wanderer  come ! — • 
My  son,  when  the  world  is  dark  to  thee, 

Then  turn  to  the  light  of  home. 

SARAH  J. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 
The  Sleeping1  SentiiieL 


The  incidents  here  woven  into  verse  relate  to  William  Scott, 
»  young  soldier  from  the  State  of  Vermont,  who,  while  on  duty 
as  a.  sentinel  at  night,  fell  asleep,  and,  having  been  condemned 
to  die,  was  pardoned  by  the  President.  They  form  a  brief  record 
of  his  humble  Kfe  at  home  and  in  the  field,  and  of  his  glorious 
death. 

AS  in  the  sultry  summer-time,  as  war's  red 
records  show, 
When  patriot  armies  rose  to  meet  a  fratricidal 

foe— 

When,  from  the  North  and  East  and  West,  like  the  up 
heaving  sea, 

Swept  forth  Columbia's  sons,  to  make  our  country 
truly  free. 

Within  a  prison's  dismal  walls,  where  shadows  veiled 

decay — 

In  fetters,  on  a  heap  of  straw,  a  youthful  soldier  lay  ; 
Heart-broken,  hopeless,  and  forlorn,  with  short  and 

feverish  breath, 
He  waited  but  the  appointed  hour  to  die  a  culprit's 

death. 

Yet,  but  a  few  brief  weeks  before,  untroubled  with  a 
care, 

He  roamed  at  will,  and  freely  drew  his  native  moun 
tain  air — 

Where  sparkling  streams  leap  mos  /  rocks,  from  many 
a  woodland  font, 

And  waving  elms,  and  grassy  slopes,  give  beauty  to 
Vermont. 

Where,  dwelling  in  a  humble  cot,  a  tiller  of  the  soil — 
Encircled  by  a  mother's  love  he  shared  a  father's  toil — 
Till,  borne  upon  the  wailing  winds,  his  suffering  coun 
try's  cry 

Fired  his  young  heart  with  fervent  zeal,  for  her  to  live 
or  die; 

Then  left  he  all :  a  few  fond  tears,  by  firmness  half 
concealed, 

A  blessing,  and  a  parting  prayer,  and  he  was  in  the 
field— 

The  field  of  strife,  whose  dews  are  blood,  whose  breezes 
war's  hot  breath, 

Whose  fruits  are  garnered  in  the  grave,  whose  hus 
bandman  is  death ! 

Without  a  murmur,  he  endured  a  service  new  and 

hard; 
But,  wearied  with  a  toilsome  march,  it  chanced  one 

night,  on  guard, 
He  sank,  exhausted,  at  his  post,  and  the  gray  morning 

found 
His  prostrate  form — a  sentinel  asleep  upon  the  ground. 


So  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  aweary,  on  the  sod, 
Sank  the  disciples,  watching  near  the  suffering  Son  at 

God; 
Yet,  Jesus,  with  compassion  moved,  beheld  their  heavy 

eyes, 
And  though  betray'd  to  ruthless  foes,  forgiving,  bade 

them  rise. 

But  God  is  love — and  finite  minds  can  faintly  compi  c 

hend 
How  gentle  mercy,  in  His  rule,  may  with  stern  justice 

blend ; 
And  this  poor  soldier,  seized  and  bound,  found  none 

to  justify, 
While  war's  inexorable  law  decreed  that  he  must  die. 

'Twas    night. — In  a  secluded  room,  with  measured 

tread,  and  slow, 
A  statesman  of  commanding  mien  paced  gravely  to 

and  fro ; 
Oppressed,  he  pondered  on  a  land  by  civil  discord 

rent ; 
On  brothers  armed  in  deadly  strife : — it  was  the  Presl 

dent. 

The  woes  of  thirty  millions  filled  his  burdened  heart 

with  grief, 
Embattled  hosts,  on  land  and  sea,  acknowledged  him 

their  chief; 
And  yet,  amid  the  din  of  war,  he  heard  the  plaintive 

cry 
Of  that  poor  soldier,  as  he  lay  in  prison,  doomed  to 

die. 

'Twas  morning. — On  a  tented  field,  and  through  tbe 

heated  haze, 
Flashed  back,  from  lines  of  burnished  arms,  the  sun's 

effulgent  blaze ; 
While,  from  a  sombre  prison-house,  seen  slowly  to 

emerge 
A  sad  procession,  o'er  the  sward,  moved  to  a  mr  flied 

dirge. 

And  in  the  midst,  with  faltering  steps,  and  pal  4  an4 

anxious  face, 
In  manacles,  between  two  guards,  a  soldier  h«.d  his 

place, 
A  youth — led  out  to  die  ; — and  yet,  it  was  no»  ieath, 

but  shame 
That  smote  his  gallant  heart  with  dread,  and  sh  ok  hi* 

manly  frame. 

Still  on,  before  the  marshall'd  ranks,  the  train  pursue? 

its  way 

Up  to  the  designated  spot,  whereon  a  coffin  lay — 
His  coffin;  and  with  reeling  brain,  despairing — Teso 

late — 
He  took  his  station  bv  its  side,  abandoned  to  fete  tate- 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


643 


Then  came  acrost,  bis  wavering  sight  strange  pictures 

in  the  air ; 
He  saw  his  distant  mountain  home  ;  he  saw  his  mother 

there; 
He  saw  his  father  bowed  in  grief,  thro'  fast-declining 

years; 
He  saw  a  nameless  jjrave  ;  and  then,  the  vision  closed 

— in  tears. 

Yet  once  again.     In  double  file  advancing,  then,  he 

saw 

Twelve  comrades  sternly  set  apart  to  execute  the  law — 
But  saw  no  more ;  his  senses  swam — deep  darkness 

settled  round — 
And,   shuddering,  he  awaited  now  the  fatal  volley's 

sound. 

Then  suddenly  was  heard  the  noise  of  steed  and  wheels 

approach, 
And,  rolling  through  a  cloud  of  dust,  appeared  a  stately 

coach, 
On,  past  the  guards,  and  through  the  field,  its  rapid 

course  was  bent, 
Till,  halting,    'mid  the  lines  was  seen   the  nation's 

President. 

He  came  to  save  that  stricken  soul,  now  waking  from 

despair ; 
And  from  a  thousand  voices  rose  a  shout  which  rent 

the  ai*t 

The  pardoned  soldier  understood  the  tones  of  jubilee, 
And,  bounding  from  his  fetters,  blessed  the  hand  that 

made  him  free. 

'Twas  spring — within  a  verdant  vale,  where  Warwick 's 

crystal  tide 
Reflected,  o'er  its  peaceful  breast,  fair  fields  on  either 

side — 
Where  birds  and  flowers  combined  to  cheer  a  sylvan 

solitude — 
Two  threatening  armies,  face  to  face  in  fierce  defiance 

Stood. 

Two  threatening  armies !     One   invoked  by   injured 

Liberty — 
Which  bore  above  its  patriot  ranks  the  Symbol  of  the 

Free; 
And  one,  a  rebel  horde,  beneath  a  flaunting  flag  of 

bars, 
A  fragment,  torn  by  traitorous  hands,  from  Freedom's 

Stripes  and  Stars. 

A  sudden  shock  which  shook  the  earth,  'mid  vapor 

dense  and  dun, 
Proclaimed,  along  the  echoing  hills,  the  conflict  had 

begun; 
And  shot  and  shell,  athwart  the  stream  with  fiendish 

fury  sped, 
To  strew  among  the  living  lines  the  dying  and  the 

dead- 


Then,  louder  than  the  roaring  storm,  pealed  forth  the 

stern  command, 
"Charge!  soldiers,  charge!"  and,  at  the  word,  with 

shouts,  a  fearless  band, 
Two  hundred  heroes  from  Vermont,  rushed  onward, 

through  the  flood, 
And  upward  o'er  the   rising  ground,   they    marked 

their  way  in  blood. 

The  smitten  foe  before  them  fled,  in  terror,  from  his 

post — 
While,  unsustained,  two  hundred  stood,  to  battle  with 

a  host ! 
Then  turning  as  the  rallying  ranks,  with  murd'rou? 

fire  replied, 
They  bore  the  fallen  o'er  the  field,  and  through  th* 

purple  tide. 

The  fallen!    And  the  first  who   fell  in  that  unequal 

strife, 
Was  he  whom  mercy  sped  to  save  when  justice  claimed 

his  life — 
The  pardon'd  soldier!     And  while  yet  the  conflict 

raged  around, 
While  yet  his  life-blood  ebbed  away   through   every 

gaping  wound — 

While  yet  his  voice  grew   tremulous,  and  death   be- 

dimmed  his  eye — 
He  called  his  comrades  to  attest  he  had  not  feared 

to  die ; 
And  in  his  last  expiring  breath,  a  prayer  to  heaven  was 

'  sent, 

That  God,  with  His  unfailing  grace,  would  bless  on* 
President. 

FRANCIS  Da  HAKS  JANVIER. 


Old   Grimes. 

,D  Grimes  is  dead,  that  good  old  man — 

We  ne'er  shall  see  him  more  ; 
He  used  to  wear  a  long  black  coat, 
All  buttoned  down  before. 

His  heart  was  open  as  the  day, 

His  feelings  all  were  true ; 
His  hair  was  some  inclined  to  gray — 

He  wore  it  in  a  queue. 

Whene'er  he  heard  the  voice  of  pain, 
His  breast  with  pity  burned ; 

The  large  round  head  upon  his  cane 
From  ivory  was  turned. 

Kind  words  he  ever  had  for  all ; 

He  knew  no  base  design  ; 
His  eyes  were  dark  and  rather  small . 

His  nose  was  aquiline- 


644 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


He  lived  at  peace  with  all  mankind, 

In  friendship  he  was  true ; 
His  coat  had  pocket-holes  behind, 

His  pantaloons  were  blue. 

Unharmed,  the  sin  which  earth  pollutes 

He  passed  securely  o'er, 
And  never  wore  a  pair  o'  boots 

For  thirty  years  or  more. 

But  good  Old  Grimes  is  now  at  rest, 
Nor  fears  misfortune's  frown ; 
He  wore  a  double-breasted  vest — 
The  stripes  ran  up  and  down. 

He  modest  merit  sought  to  find, 

And  pay  it  its  desert ; 
He  had  no  malice  in  his  mind, 

No  ruffles  on  his  shirt. 

His  neighbors  he  did  not  abuse — 

Was  sociable  and  gay ; 
He  wore  large  buckles  on  his  shoes, 

And  changed  them  every  day. 

His  knowledge,  hid  from  public  gaze. 

He  did  not  bring  to  view, 
Nor  make  a  noise  town-meeting  days, 

As  many  people  do. 

His  worldly  goods  he  never  threw 
In  trust  to  fortune's  chances, 

But  lived  (as  all  his  brothers  do) 
In  easy  circumstances. 

Thus  undisturbed  by  anxious  cares 
His  peaceful  moments  ran  ; 

And  everybody  said  he  was 
A  fine  old  gentleman. 

G. 


The  Vagabonds. 

I  are  two  travelers,  Roger  and  I. 
Roger's  my  dog : — come  here,  you  scamp ! 
Jump  for  the  gentlemen — mind  your  eye ! 
Over  the  table — look  out  for  the  lamp  I — 
Jhe  rogue  is  growing  a  little  old  ; 

Five  years  we've  tramped  through  wind  and  weather, 
And  slept  out-doors  when  nights  were  cold, 
And  ate  and  drank — and  starved  together. 

We've  learned  what  comfort  is,  I  tell  you ! 

A  bed  on  the  floor,  a  bit  of  rosin, 
&  fire  to  thaw  our  thumbs  (poor  fellow ! 

The  paw  he  holds  up  there's  been  frozen,) 
Plenty  of  catgut  for  my  fiddle, 

(This  out-door  business  is  bad  for  strings,) 
Then  a  few  nice  buckwheats  hot  from  the  griddle, 

And  Roger  and  I  set  up  for  kings  1 


No,  thank  ye,  sir — I  never  drink ; 

Roger  and  I  are  exceedingly  moral — 
Aren't  we,  Roger  ? — see  him  wink  ! — 

Well,  something  hot,  then — we  won't  quarreL 
He's  thirsty,  too — see  him  nod  his  head  ? 

What  a  pity,  sir,  that  dogs  can't  talk ! 
He  understands  every  word  that's  said — 

And  he  knows  good  milk  from  water-and-chalk.. 

The  truth  is,  sir,  now  I  reflect, 

I've  been  so  sadly  given  to  grog, 
I  wonder  I've  not  lost  the  respect 

(Here's  to  you,  sir !)  even  of  my  dog. 
But  he  sticks  by,  through  thick  and  thin  ; 

And  this  old  coat,  with  its  empty  pockets, 
And  rags  that  smell  of  tobacco  and  gin, 

He'll  follow  while  he  has  eyes  in  his  sockets. 

There  isn't  another  creature  living 

Would  do  it,  and  prove,  through  every  disaster, 
So  fond,  so  faithful,  and  so  forgiving, 

To  such  a  miserable,  thankless  master ! 
No,  sir ! — see  him  wag  his  tail  and  grin ! 

By  George !  it  makes  my  old  eyes  water  f 
That  is,  there's  something  in  this  gin 

That  chokes  a  fellow.     But  no  matter ! 

We'll  have  some  music,  if  you're  willing, 

And  Roger  (hem  !  what  a  plague  a  cough  is,  sir  f) 
Shall  march  a  little — Start  you  villain  ! 

Stand  straight !  'Bout  face !  Salute  your  officer) 
Put  up  that  paw !  Dress !  Take  your  rifle ! 

(Some  dogs  have  arms,  you  see  !)  Now  hold  yoor 
Cap  while  the  gentlemen  give  a  trifle, 

To  aid  a  poor  old  patriot  soldier ! 

March !  Halt !  Now  show  how  the  rebel  shakes 

When  he  stands  up  to  hear  his  sentence. 
Now  tell  us  how  many  drams  it  takes 

To  honor  a  jolly  new  acquaintance. 
Five  yelps — that's  five ;  he's  mighty  knowing  I 

The  night's  before  us,  fill  the  glasses ! 
Quick,  sir !  I'm  ill — my  brain  is  going ! 

Some  brandy  ! — thank  you  ! — there  ! — it  passes  I 

Why  not  reform  ?    That's  easily  said  ; 

But  I've  gone  through  such  wretched  treatment. 
Sometimes  forgetting  the  taste  of  bread, 

And  scarce  remembering  what  meat  meant. 
That  my  poor  stomach's  past  reform  ; 

And  there  are  times  when,  mad  with  thinkit^r. 
I'd  sell  out  heaven  for  something  warm 

To  prop  a  horrible  inward  sinking. 

Is  there  a  way  to  forget  to  think? 

At  your  age,  sir,  home,  fortune^  friends, 
A  dear  girl's  love — but  I  took  to  drink  ;— 

The  same  old  story  ;  you  know  how  it  ends. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


]f  you  could  have  «een  these  classic  features — 
Yon  needn't  laugh,  sir;  they  -were  not  then 

Such  a  burning  libel  on  God's  creatures ; 
I  was  one  of  your  handsome  men. 

Jf  yon  had  seen  her,  so  fair  and  young, 

Whose  head  was  happy  on  this  breast ! 
If  you  could  have  heard  the  songs  I  sung 

When  the  wine  went  round,   you  wouldn't  have 
•That  ever  I,  sir,  should  be  straying  [guessed 

From  door  to  door,  with  fiddle  and  dog, 
Ragged  and  penniless,  and  playing 

To  yon  to-night  for  a  glass  of  grog ! 

She's  married  since — a  parson's  wife  : 

'Twas  better  for  her  that  we  should  part — 
Better  the  soberest,  prosiest  life 

Than  a  blasted  home  and  a  broken  heart. 
I  have  seen  her?     Once  :  I  was  weak  and  spent, 

On  the  dusty  road,  a  carriage  stopped : 
But  little  she  dreamed,  as  on  she  went, 

Who  kissed  the  coin  that  her  fingers  dropped ! 

You've  set  me  talking,  sir ;  I'm  sorry ; 

It  makes  me  wild  to  think  of  the  change ! 
What  do  you  care  for  a  beggar's  story  ! 

Is  it  amusing?  you  find  it  strange  ? 
I  had  a  mother  so  proud  of  me ! 

Twas  well  she  died  before — Do  you  know 
If  the  happy  spirits  in  heaven  can  see 

The  ruin  and  wretchedness  here  below  ? 

Another  glass,  and  strong,  to  deaden 

This  pain  ;  then  Roger  and  I  will  start. 
I  wonder,  has  he  such  a  lumpish,  leaden, 

Aching  thing,  in  place  of  a  heart  ? 
He  is  sad  sometimes,  and  would  weep,  if  he  coald, 

No  doubt  remembering  things  that  were — 
A  virtuou.  kennel,  with  plenty  of  food, 

And  himself  a  sober,  respectable  cur. 

I'm  better  now  ;  that  glass  was  warming  — 

You  rascal !  limber  your  lazy  feet ! 
We  must  be  fiddling  and  performing 

For  supper  and  bed,  or  starve  in  the  street. — 
Not  a  very  gay  life  to  lead,  you  think  ? 

But  soon  we  shall  go  where  lodgings  are  free, 
And  the  sleepers  need  neither  victuals  nor  drink ; — 

The  sooner,  the  better  for  Roger  and  me  I 

JOHN  T.  TROWBRIDGB. 


The  Miller's  Daughter. 

IT  is  the  miller's  daughter, 
And  she  is  grown  so  dear,  so  dear, 
That  I  would  be  the  jewel 
That  trembles  at  her  ear : 
For,  hid  in  ringlets  day  and  uight, 
I'd  touch  her  neck  so  warm  and  white. 


And  I  would  be  the  girdle 

About  her  dainty,  dainty 
And  her  heart  would  beat  against  ta» 

In  sorrow  and  in  rest : 
And  I  should  know  if  it  beat  right, 
I'd  clasp  it  round  so  close  and  tight. 

And  I  would  be  the  necklace, 
And  all  day  long  to  fall  and  rise 

Upon  her  balmy  bosom, 

With  her  laughter  or  her  sighs : 

And  I  would  lie  so  light,  so  light, 

I  scarce  should  be  unclasped  at  night. 


Little  Nell's  Funeral. 

ND  now  the  bell— the  bell 

She  had  so  often  heard  by  night  and  dpy, 
And  listened  to  with  solemn  pleasure, 

E'en  as  a  living  voice — 
Rung  its  remorseless  toll  for  her, 
So  young,  so  beautiful,  so  good. 

Decrepit  age,  and  vigorous  life, 
And  blooming  youth,  and  helpless  infancy, 
Poured  forth — on  crutches,  in  the  pride  of  strengtfc 

And  health,  in  the  full  blush 

Of  promise,  the  mere  dawn  of  life — 
To  gather  round  her  tomb.     Old  men  were  there. 

Whose  eyes  were  dim 

And  senses  failing — 

Grandames,  who  might  have  died  ten  years  ago, 
And  still  been  old — the  deaf,  the  blind,  the  lame. 

The  palsied, 

The  living  dead  in  many  shapes  and  forms, 
To  see  the  closing  of  this  early  grave. 

What  was  the  death  it  would  shut  in, 
To  that  which  still  could  crawl  and  keep  above  jv- 

Along  the  crowded  path  they  bore  her  now ; 

Pure  as  the  new  fallen  snow 
That  covered  it ;  whose  day  on  earth 

Had  been  as  fleeting. 

Under  that  porch,  where  she  had  sat  when  rteavcn 
In  mercy  brought  her  to  that  peaceful  spot, 
She  passed  again,  and  the  old  ch\ircn 
Received  her  in  its  quiet  shade. 

They  carried  her  to  one  old  nook, 
Where  she  had  many  and  many  a  time  sat  musing, 
And  laid  their  burclen  softly  on  the  pavement. 

The.  light  streamed  on  it  through 
The  colored  window — a  window  where  the  boughs 

Of  trees  were  ever  rustling 
In  the  summer,  and  where  tfr-2  birds 
Sang  sweetly  a\l  day  long. 


CHOICK  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


Christmas  Time. 

i  HAP  on  more  wood  ! — the  wind  is  chill ; 

Ifiut  let  it  whistle  as  it  will, 
We'll  keep  our  Christmas  merry  still ; 
Each  age  has  deemed  the  new-born  year 
The  fittest  time  for  festal  cheer : 
And  well  our  Christian  sires  of  old 
I«oved  when  the  year  its  course  had  rolled, 
And  brought  blithe  Christmas  back  again, 
With  all  his  hospitable  train. 
Domestic  and  religious  rite 
Gave  honor  to  the  holy  night : 
On  Christmas  eve  the  bells  were  rung ; 
On  Christinas  eve  the  mass  was  sung; 
That  only  night,  in  all  the  year, 
Saw  the  stoled  priest  the  chalice  rear. 
The  damsel  donned  her  kirtle  sheen  ; 
The  hall  was  dressed  with  holly  green  ; 
Forth  to  the  wood  did  merry-men  go, 
To  gather  in  the  mistletoe. 
Then  opened  wide  the  baron's  hall 
To  vassal,  tenant,  serf,  and  all ; 
Power  laid  his  rod  of  rule  aside, 
And  Ceremony  doffed  his  pride. 
The  heir,  with  roses  in  his  shoes, 
That  night  might  village  partner  choose, 
The  lord,  underogating,  share 
The  vulgar  game  of  "post  and  pair." 
All  hailed,  with  uncontrolled  delight 
And  general  voice,  the  happy  night 
That  to  the  cottage,  as  the  crowti , 
Brought  tidings  of  salvation  down. 

The  fire,  with  well-dried  logs  «  applied, 
Went  roaring  up  the  chimney  wide  ; 
The  huge  hall-table's  oaken  face, 
Scrubbed  till  it  shone  the  day  to  grace, 
Bore  then  upon  its  massive  board 
No  mark  to  part  the  squire  and  lord. 
Then  was  brought  in  the  lusty  brawn, 
By  old  blue-coated  serving-man  ; 
Then  the  grim  boar's  head  frowned  on  high, 
Crested  with  bays  and  rosemary. 
Well  can  the  green-garbed  ranger  tell 
How,  when  and  where  the  monster  fell  ; 
What  dogs  before  his  death  he  tore, 
And  all  the  baiting  of  the  boar. 
The  wassail  round,  in  good  brown  bowls, 
Garnished  with  ribbons,  blithlely  trowls. 
There  the  huge  sirloin  reeked ;  hard  by 
Plum-porridge  stood,  and  Christinas  pie ; 
Nor  failed  old  Scotland  to  produce, 
At  such  high-tide,  her  savory  goose. 
Then  came  the  merry  maskers  in, 
And  carols  roared  with  blithesome  din ; 
tf  unmelodious  was  the  song, 


It  was  a  hearty  note,  and  strong. 
Who  lists  may  in  their  mumming  see 
Traces  of  ancient  mystery  ; 
White  skirls  supplied  the  masquerade, 
And  smutted  cheeks  the  visors  made ; 
But,  O,  what  maskers  richly  dight 
Can  boast  of  bosoms  half  so  light! 
England  was  merry  England,  when 
Old  Christmas  brought  his  sports  again. 
'T  was  Christmas  broached  the  mightiest  ale  ; 
'T  was  Christmas  told  the  merriest  tale  ; 
A  Christmas  gambol  oft  could  cheer 
The  poor  man's  heart  through  half  the  year. 
SIR 


The  Worn  Wedding  Ring. 

UR  wedding  ring  wears  thin,  dear  wife?  ah, 
summers  not  a  few, 
Since  I  put  it  on  your  finger  first,  have  passed  o'et 
me  and  you ; 
And,  love,  what  changes  we  have  seen, — what  cares 

and  pleasures,  too, — 

Since  you  became  my  own  dear  wife,  when  this  old 
ring  was  new  ! — 

i  O,  blessings  on  that  happy  day,  the  happiest  of  my 

life, 
When,  thanks  to  God,  your  low,  sweet  "  Yes  "  made 

you  my  loving  wife  ! 
Your  heart  will  say  the  same,  I  know ;  that  day's  as 

dear  to  you, — 
That  day  that  made  me  yours,  dear  wife,  when  this  old 

ring  was  new. 

How  well  do  I  remember  now  your  young  sweet  face 

that  day ! 
How  fair  you  were,  how  dear  you  were,  m  ,  tongue 

could  hardly  say  ; 

Nor  how  I  doated  on  you  ;  O,  how  proud  I  was  of  you 
But  did  I  love  you  more  than  now,  when  this  old  rinr 

was  new  ? 

No — no  !  no  fairer  were  you  then  than  at  this  hour  to 

me ; 
And,  dear  as  life  to  me  this  day,  how  could  yon  dearet 

be? 
As  sweet  your  face  might  he  that  day  as  now  it  is,  'tis 

true! 
But  did  I  know  your  heart  as  well  when  this  old   ring 

was  new? 

Years  bring  fresh  links  to  bind  us,  wife, — young  voices 

that  are  here ; 
Young  faces  round  our  fire  that  make   their  mother's 

yet  more  dear ; 
Young  loving  hearts  your  care  each  day   makes      et 

more  like  to  you, 
More  like  the  loving  heart  made  mine  when   this  old 

ring  was  new. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


The  past  is  dear,  its  sweetness  still  our  memories  treas 
ure  yet ; 

The  griefs  we've  borne,  together  borne,  we  would  not 
now  forget. 

Whatever,  wife,  the  future  brings,  heart  unto  heart 
still  true, 

We:U  share  as  we  have  shared  all  else  since  this  old 
ring  was  new. 

And  if  God  spares  us  'mongst  our  sons  and  daughters 

to  grow  old, 
We   know  His  goodness  will  not   let  your  heart  or 

mine  grow  cold. 
Your  aged  eyes  will  see  in  mine  all  they've  still  shown 

to  you, 
And  mine  in  yours  all  they  have  seen  since  this  old 

ring  was  new. 

And  O,  when  death  shall  come  at  last  to  bid  me  to  my 

rest, 
May  I  die  looking  in  those  eyes,  and   resting  on  that 

breast; 
O,  may  my  parting  gaze  be  blessed  with  the  dear  sight 

of  you, 
Of  those  fond  eyes, — fond  as  they  were  when  this  old 

ring  was  new ! 

WIGWAM  Cox  BENNETT. 


Faithless  Nelly  Gray. 

iN  BATTLE  was  a  soldier  bold, 
And  used  to  war's  alarms ; 
But  a  cannon  ball  took  off  his  legs, 
So  he  laid  down  his  arms ! 

Now  as  they  bore  him  off  the  field, 

Said  he,  "  Let  others  shoot, 
Fof  here  I  leave  my  second  leg, 

And  the  Forty -second  Foot !" 

The  army  surgeons  made  him  limbs: 
Said  he — "They're  only  pegs; 

But  there's  as  wooden  members  quite 
As  represent  my  legs !" 

Now  Ben  he  loved  a  pretty  maid, 

Her  name  was  Nelly  Gray  ! 
So  he  went  to  pay  her  his  devours 

When  he'd  devoured  his  pay. 

But  when  he  called  on  Nelly  Gray, 

She  made  him  quite  a  scoff; 
/Lnd  when  she  saw  his  wooden  legs, 
to  take  them  off ! 


"  O  Nelly  Gray  !  O  Nelly  Gray  f 

Is  this  your  love  so  warm  ? 
The  love  that  loves  a  scarlet  coat, 
Should  be  more  uniform  !" 

Said  she,  "  I  loved  a  soldier  once. 

For  he  was  blithe  and  brave ; 
But  I  will  never  have  a  man 

With  both  legs  in  the  grave  I 

"  Before  you  had  those  timber  toes, 

Your  love  I  did  allow, 
But  then  you  know,  you  stand  upon 
Another  footing  now !" 

"  O  Nelly  Gray !  O  Nelly  Gray ! 

For  all  your  cheering  speeches, 
At  duty's  call  I  left  my  legs 
In  Badajos's  breaches!" 

"  Why,  then,"  said  she,  "you've  lost  the  feet 

Of  legs  in  war's  alarms, 
And  now  you  cannot  wear  your  shoes 
Upon  your  feats  of  armsl" 

"  O,  false  and  fickle  Nelly  Gray ; 

I  know  why  you  refuse  : — 
Though  I've  no  feet — some  other  man 
Is  standing  in  my  shoes ! 

"  I  wish  I  n'er  had  seen  your  face  ; 

But,  now,  a  long  farewell ! 
For  you  will  be  my  death : — alas ! 
You  will  not  be  my  Nell!" 

Now  when  he  went  front  Nelly  Gray, 

His  heart  so  heavy  got — 
And  life  was  such  a  burthen  grown, 

It  made  him  take  a  knot ! 

So  round  his  melancholy  neck 

A  rope  he  did  entwine, 
And,  for  his  second  time  in  life, 

Enlisted  in  the  lyine  ! 

One  end  he  tied  around  a  beam, 

And  then  removed  his  pegs, 
And,  as  his  legs  were  off — of  course. 

He  soon  was  off  his  legs  ! 

And  there  he  hung  till  he  was  dead 

As  any  nail  in  town — 
For  though  distress  had  cut  him  up, 

It  could  not  cut  him  down  : 

A  dozen  men  sat  on  his  corpse, 

To  find  out  why  he  died — 
And  they  buried  Ben  in  four  cross-roads, 

With  a  stake  in  his  inside  I 

THOMAS  Hooo 


648 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


A  Milkmaid's  Song:. 


,  pull  1  and  the  pail  is  full, 
'And  milking's  done  and  over, 
Who  would  not  sit  here  under  the  tree? 
What  a  fair,  fair  thing's  a  green  field  to  see  I 
Brim,  brim,  to  the  rim,  uh  me  ! 
I  have  set  my  pail  on  the  daisies ! 
It  seems  so  light — can  the  sun  be  set  ? 
rhe  dews  must  be  heavy,  my  cheeks  are  wet, 
I  could  cry  to  have  hurt  the  daisies ! 
Harry  is  near,  Harry  is  near, 
My  heart's  as  sick  as  if  he  were  here, 
My  lips  are  burning,  my  cheeks  are  wet, 
He  hasn't  uttered  a  word  as  yet, 
But  the  air's  astir  with  his  praises. 
My  Harry  I 
The  air's  astir  with  your  praises. 

He  has  scaled  the  rock  by  the  pixy's  stone, 

He's  among  the  kingcups — he  picks  me  one, 

I  love  the  grass  that  I  tread  upon 

When  I  go  to  my  Harry  1 

He  has  jumped  the  brook,  he  has  climbed  the  knoll, 

There's  never  a  faster  foot  I  know, 

But  still  he  seems  to  tarry. 

O  Harry !  O  Harry  !  my  love,  my  pride, 

My  heart  is  leaping,  my  arms  are  wide  1 

Roll  up,  roll  up,  you  dull  hillside, 

Roll  up,  and  bring  my  Harry ! 

They  may  talk  of  glory  over  the  sea, 

But  Harry's  alive,  and  Harry's  for  me. 

My  love,  my  lad,  my  H&  rry  ! 

Come  spring,  come  winter,  come  sun,  come  snow. 

What  cares  Dolly,  whether  or  no, 

While  I  can  milk  and  marry  ? 

Right  or  wrong,  and  wrong  or  right, 

Quarrel  who  quarrel,  and  fight  who  fight, 

But  I'll  bring  my  pail  home  every  night 

To  love,  and  home,  and  Harry  ! 

We'll  drink  our  can,  we'll  eat  our  cake, 

There's  beer  in  the  barrel,  there's  bread  in  the  bake, 

The  world  may  sleep,  the  world  may  wake, 

But  I  shall  milk  and  marry, 

And  marry, 

/  shall  milk  and  marry.  SYDNEY 


John  Maynard. 

9  /3T"WAS  on  Lake  Erie's  broad  expanse, 
^f     One  bright  midsummer  day, 

The  gallant  steamer  Ocean  Queen 
Swept  proudly  on  her  way. 
Bright  faces  clustered  on  the  deck, 

Or  leaning  o'er  the  side, 
Watched  carelessly  the  feathery  foam, 
That  flecked  the  rippling  tide. 


Ah,  who  beneath  that  cloudless  sky, 

That  smiling  bends  serene, 
Could  dream  that  danger,  awful,  vast, 

Impended  o'er  the  scene — 
Could  dream  that  ere  an  hour  had  sped, 

That  frame  of  sturdy  oak 
Would  sink  beneath  the  lake's  blue  wevQ,,* 

Blackened  with  fire  and  smoke? 

A  seaman  sought  the  captain's  side, 

A  moment  whispered  low ; 
The  captain's  swarthy  face  grew  pale, 

He  hurried  down  below. 
Alas,  too  late  !     Though  quick  and  shai| 

And  clear  his  orders  came, 
No  human  efforts  could  avail 

To  quench  the  insidious  flame. 

The  bad  news  quickly  reached  the  deck,. 

It  sped  from  lip  to  lip, 
And  ghastly  faces  everywhere 

Looked  from  the  doomed  ship. 
"  Is  there  no  hope — no  chance  of  life?" 

A  hundred  lips  implore ; 
"  But  one,"  the  captain  made  reply, 
"  To  run  the  ship  on  shore." 

A  sailor,  whose  heroic  soul 

That  hour  should  yet  reveal — 
By  name  John  Maynard,  eastern  born — 

Stood  calmly  at  the  wheel. 
"  Head  her  southeast  I"  the  captain  shook , 

Above  the  smothered  roar, 
•'  Head  her  southeast  without  delay  I 
Make  for  the  nearest  shore  I" 

fJo  terror  pales  the  helmsman's  cheek, 

Or  clouds  his  dauntless  eye, 
As  in  a  sailor's  measured  tone 

His  voice  responds,   "  Ay,  Ay  ! " 
Three  hundred  souls — the  steamer's  freight-— 

Crowd  forward  wild  with  fear, 
While  at  the  stern  the  dreadful  flames 

Above  the  deck  appear. 

John  Maynard  watched  the  nearing  flames* 

But  still,  with  steady  hand 
He  grasped  the  wheel,  and  steadfastly 

He  steered  the  ship  to  land. 
"  John  Maynard, "  with  an  anxious  voice, 

The  captain  cries  once  more, 
"  Stand  by  the  wheel  five  minutes  yet, 

And  we  will  reach  the  shore.  " 
Through  flames  and  smoke  that  dauntless  tewft 

Responded  firmly,  still 
Unawed,  though  face  to  face  with  death, 

"  With  God's  good  help  I  will  I  " 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


649 


The  flames  approach  with  giant  strides, 

They  scorch  his  hands  and  brow  ; 
One  arm  disabled  seeks  his  side, 

Ah,  he  is  conquered  now  ! 
Bnt  no,  his  teeth  are  firmly  set, 

He  crushes  down  the  pain — 
His  knee  upon  the  stanchion  pressed, 

He  guides  the  ship  again. 

One  moment  yet !  one  moment  yet  I 

Brave  heart,  thy  task  is  o'er ! 
The  pebbles  grate  beneath  the  keel, 

The  steamer  touches  shore. 
Three  hundred  grateful  voices  rise, 

In  praise  to  God,  that  He 
Hath  saved  them  from  the  fearful  fire, 

And  from  the  ingulfing  sea. 

Bnt  where  is  he,  that  helmsman  bold? 

The  captain  saw  him  reel — 
His  nerveless  hands  released  their  task, 

He  sunk  beside  the  wheel. 

The  wave  received  his  lifeless  corpse, 
Blackened  with  smoke  and  fire. 

God  rest  him  !     Hero  never  had 
A  nobler  funeral  pyre  I 

HORATIO 


It  Snows. 


and 


IT  snows ! ' '    cries  the  schoolboy — ' '  Hurran ! 

and  his  shout 

Is  ringing  through  the  parlor  and  hall, 
While  swift  as  the  wink  of  a  swallow,  he's  out, 

And  his  playmates  have  answered  his  call : 
It  makes  the  heart  leap  but  to  witness  their  joy- 
Proud  wealth  has  no  pleasures,  I  trow, 
Like  the  rapture  that  throbs  in  the  pulse  of  the  boy, 

As  he  gathers  his  treasures  of  snow ; 
Then  lay  not  the  trappings  of  gold  on  thine  heirs, 
While  health  and  the  riches  of  nature  are  theirs. 

"It  snows!"    sighs  the  imbecile — "Ah!"    and  his 
breath 

Comes  heavy,  as  clogged  with  a  weight ; 
While  from  the  pale  aspect  of  nature  in  death, 

He  turns  to  the  blaze  of  his  grate : 
And  nearer,  and  nearer,  his  soft-cushioned  chair 

Is  wheeled  tow'rds  the  life-giving  flame — 
He  dreads  a  chill  puff  of  the  scow-burdened  air, 

Lest  it  wither  his  delicate  frame : 
Oh,  small  is  the  pleasure  existence  can  give, 
When  the  fear  we  shall  die  only  proves  that  we  live ! 


•'It  snows!"    cries  the  traveler— "  Ho!"    and  the 

word 

Has  quickened  his  steed's  lagging  pace  ; 
The  wind  rushes  by,  but  its  howl  is  unheard — 

Unfelt  the  sharp  drift  in  his  face ; 
For  bright  through  the  tempest  his  own  home  ap 
peared — 

Ay,  though  leagues  intervened,  he  can  see ;  t 

There's  the  clear,  glowing  hearth,  and  the  table  pro* 


And  his  wife  with  their  babes  at  her  knee. 
Blest  thought !  how  it  lightens  the  grief-laden  hoot, 
That  those  we  love  dearest  are  safe  from  its  power  I 

"It  snows!"  cries  the  belle — "Dear,  how  Inckyl" 
and  turns 

Prom  her  mirror  to  watch  the  flakes  fall ; 
Like  the  first  rose  cf  summer,   her  dimpled  cheek 
burns, 

While  musing  on  sleigh-ride  and  ball : 
There  are  visions  of  conquest,  of  splendor,  and  miith, 

Floating  over  each  drear  winter's  day ; 
Bnt  the  tintings  of  hope  on  this  storm  beaten  earth, 

Will  melt  like  the  snow  flakes,  away ; 
Turn,  turn  thee  to  heaven,  fair  maiden,  for  bliss 
That  world  has  a  fountain  ne'er  opened  in  this. 

"It  snows!"  cries  the  widow — "O  God!''   and  her 

sighs 
Have  stifled  the  voice  of  her  prayer ; 

Its  burden  ye'll  read  in  her  tear-swollen  eyes. 
On  her  cheek,  sunk  with  fasting  and  care. 

Tis  night — and  her  fatherless  ask  her  for  bread- 
But  "  He  gives  the  young  ravens  their  food," 

And  she  trusts,  till  her  dark  heart  adds  horror  to  dread 
And  she  lays  on  her  last  chip  of  wood. 

Poor  sufferer !  that  sorrow  thy  God  only  knows-  - 

Tis  a  pitiful  lot  to  be  poor  when  it  snows ! 

SARAH  JOSEPHA 


Johnny  Bartholomew. 

HE  journals  this  morning  are  full  of  a  tale 
Of  a  terrible  ride  through  a  tunnel  by  rail ; 
And  people  are  called  on  to  note  and  admire 
How  a  hundred  or  more,  through  the  smoke-cloud  and 

fire, 

Were  borne  from  all  peril  to  limbs  and  to  lives- 
Mothers  saved  to  their  children,  and  husbands  to  wir  *> 
But  of  him  who  performed  such  a  notable  deed 
Quite  little  the  journalist  gives  us  to  read. 
In  truth,  of  thi?  hero  so  plucky  and  bold, 
There  is  nothing  except,  in  few  syllables  told. 
His  name,  which  is  Johnny  Bartholomew. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


Away  in  Nevada — they  don't  tell  us  where, 
Nor  does  it  much  matter — a  railway  is  there, 
Which  winds  in  and  out  through  the  cloven  ravines, 
With  glimpses  at  times  of  the  wildest  of  scenes — 
Now  passing  a  bridge  seeming  fine  as  a  thread, 
Now  shooting  past  cliifs  that  impend  o'er  the  head, 
Now  plunging  some  black- throated  tunnel  within, 
Whose  darkness  is  roused  at  the  clatter  and  din ; 
And  ran  every  day  with  its  train  o'er  the  road, 
An  engine  that  steadily  dragged  on  its  load, 
And  was  driven  by  Johnny  Bartholomew. 

With  throttle-valve  down,  he  was  slowing  the  train, 
While  the  sparks  fell  around  and  behind  him  like  rain, 
As  he  came  to  a  spot  where  a  curve  to  the  right 
Brought  the  black,  yawning  mouth  of  a  tunnel  in 

sight, 

And  peering  ahead  with  a  far-seeing  ken, 
Felt  a  quick  sense  of  danger  come  over  him  then. 
Was  a  train  on  the  track  ?    No  !    A  peril  as  dire  — 
The  further  extreme  of  the  tunnel  on  fire ! 
And  the  volume  of  smoke  as  it  gathered  and  rolled, 
Shook  fearful  dismay  from  each  dun-colored  fold, 
But  daunted  not  Johnny  Bartholomew. 

Beat  faster  his  heart,  though  its  current  stood  still, 
And  his  nerves  felt  ajar  but  no  tremulous  thrill ; 
And  his  eyes  keenly  gleamed  through  their  partly 

closed  lashes, 

And  his  lips — not  with  fear — took  the  color  of  ashes. 
"  If  we  falter,  these  people  behind  us  are  dead  ! 
So  close  the  doors,  fireman — we'll  send  her  ahead  I 
Crowd  on  the  steam  till  she  rattles  and  swings  I 
Open  the  throttle-valve !     Give  her  her  wings ! ' ' 
Shouted  he  from  his  post  in  the  engineer's  room, 
Driving  onward  perchance  to  a  terrible  doom , 
This  man  they  call  Johnny  Bartholomew 

Firm  grasping  the  bell-rope  and  holding  his  breath, 
On,  on  through  the  Vale  of  the  Shadow  of  Death, 
On,  on  through  that  horrible  cavern  of  hell, 
Through  flames  that  arose  and  through  timbers  that 

fell, 

Through  the  eddying  smoke  and  the  serpents  of  fire 
That  writhed  and  that  hissed  in  their  anguish  and  ire, 
With  a  rnsh  and  a  roar  like  a  wild  tempest's  blast, 
To  the  free  air  beyond  them  in  safety  they  passed ! 
While  the  clang  of  the  bell  and  the  steam  pipe's  shrill 

jell, 

Told  the  joy  at  escape  from  that  underground  hell 
Of  the  man  they  called  Johnny  Bartholomew. 

Did  the  passengers  get  up  a  service  of  plate  ? 
Did  some  oily-tongued  orator  at  the  man  prate  r 
Women  kiss  him  ?    Young  children  cling  fast  to  his 
knees? 


Stout  men  in  their  rapture  his  brown  fingers  squecacJ 

And  where  was  he  born  ?    Is  he  handsome  ?     Has  he 

A  wife  for  his  bosom,  a  child  for  his  knee  ? 

Is  he  young?    Is  he  old ?    Is  he  tall ?    Is  ha  short? 

Well,  ladies  the  journals  tell  naught  of  the  sort, 

And  all  that  they  give  us  about  him  to-day, 

After  telling  the  tale  in  a  commonplace  way, 

Is — the  man's  name  is  Johnny  Bartholomew. 

THOMAS  DUNN  ENGWSH 


James  Fitz-  James  and  Ellen, 

FOOTSTEP  struck  her  ear, 
And  Snowdoun's  graceful  Knight  w* 
She  turned  the  hastier,  lest  again 
The  prisoner  should  renew  his  strain. 
*'  O  welcome,  brave  Fitz  James  !"  she  said  ; 
How  may  an  almost  orphan  maid 
Pay  the  deep  debt"  —  "O,  say  not  so  ! 
To  me  no  gratitude  you  owe. 
Not  mine,  alas  !  the  boon  to  give, 
And  bid  thy  noble  father  live  ; 
I  can  but  be  thy  guide,  sweet  maid, 
With  Scotland's  King  thy  suit  to  aid. 
No  tyrant  he,  though  ire  and  pride 
May  lead  his  better  mood  aside. 
Come,  Ellen,  come  ;  't  is  more  than  time, 
He  holds  his  court  at  morning  prime." 
With  beating  heart  and  bosom  wrung, 
As  to  a  brother's  arm  she  clung, 
Gently  he  dried  the  falling  tear, 
And  gently  whispered  hope  and  cheer  ; 
Her  faltering  steps  half  led,  half  stayed. 
Through  gallery  fair  and  high  arcade, 
Till,  at  his  touch,  its  wings  of  pride 
A  portal  arch  unfolded  wide. 

Within  't  was  brilliant  all  and  light, 
A  thronging  scene  of  figures  bright  ; 
It  glowed  on  Ellen's  dazzled  sight, 
As  when  the  setting  sun  has  given 
Ten  thousand  hues  to  summer  eve 
And  from  their  tissue  fancy  frames 
Aerial  knights  and  fairy  dames. 
Still  by  Fitz-James  her  footing  stayed  ; 
A  few  faint  steps  she  forward  made, 
Then  slow  her  drooping  head  she  raised, 
And  fearful  round  the  presence  gazed  : 
For  him  she  sought  who  owned  this  state, 
The  dreaded  prince  whose  will  was  fate  I 
She  gazed  on  many  a  princely  port 
Might  well  have  ruled  a  royal  court  ; 
On  many  a  splendid  garb  she  gazed  — 
Then  turned  bewildered  and  amazed, 
For  all  stood  bare  ;  and  in  the  room 
Fitz-James  alone  wore  cap  and  plume. 


nen«.. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


651 


To  him  each  lady's  Jook  was  lent, 

On  him  each  courtier's  eye  was  bent, 

Midst  furs  and  silks  aud  jewels  sheen 

He  stood,  in  simple  Lincoln  green, 

The  centre  of  the  glittering  ring— 

And  Snowdoun's  Knight  is  Scotland's  King ! 

As  wreath  of  snow,  on  mountain  breast, 
Slides  from  the  rock  that  gave  it  rest, 
Poor  Ellen  glided  from  her  stay, 
And  at  the  Monarch's  feet  she  lay ; 
No  word  her  choking  voice  commands  : 
She  showed  the  ring,  she  clasped  her  hands. 

0,  not  a  moment  could  he  brook, 

The  generous  prince,  that  suppliant  look ! 
Gently  he  raised  her,  and  the  while 
Checked  with  a  glance  the  circle's  smile; 
Graceful,  but  grave,  her  brow  he  kissed, 
And  bade  her  terrors  be  dismissed  :— 
1  Yes,  fair ;  the  wandering  poor  Fitz-James 
The  fealty  of  Scotland  claims. 
To  him  thy  woes,  thy  wishes  bring ; 
He  will  redeem  his  signet-ring. 
Ask  naught  for  Douglas  ;  yester  even 
His  prince  and  he  have  much  forgiven ; 
Wrong  hath  he  had  from  slanderous  tongue, 

1,  from  his  rebel  kinsman,  wrong. 
We  would  not  to  the  vulgar  crowd 
Yield  what  they  craved  with  clamor  loud ; 
Calmly  we  heard  and  judged  his  cause, 
Our  council  aided  and  our  laws. 

I  stanched  thy  father's  death-feud  stern, 
With  stout  De  Vaux  and  gray  Gleucairn  ; 
And  Bothwell's  Lord  henceforth  we  own 
The  frieud  and  bulwark  of  our  throne. 
But,  lovely  infidel,  how  now  ? 
What  clouds  thy  misbelieving  brow  ? 
Lord  James  of  Douglas,  lend  thine  aid ; 
Tho«  must  confirm  this  doubting  maid." 

Then  forth  the  noble  Douglas  sprung, 
And  on  his  neck  his  daughter  hung. 
The  monarch  drank,  that  happy  hour, 
The  sweetest,  holiest  draught  of  power- 
When  it  can  say,  the  godlike  voice, 
Arise,  sad  virtue,  and  rejoice  ! 
Yet  would  not  James  the  general  eye 
On  nature's  raptures  long  should  pry  : 
He  stepped  between—-" Nay,  Douglas,  nay, 
Steal  not  my  proselyte  away  ! 
The  riddle  't  is  my  right  to  read, 
That  brought  this  happy  chance  to  speed. 
Yes,  Ellen,  when  disguised  I  stray 
In  life's  more  low,  but  happier  way, 
T  is  under  name  which  veils  my  power, 
Nor  falsely  veils,  for  Stirling's  tower 


Of  yore  the  name  of  Snowdoun  claims, 
And  Normans  call  me  James  Fitz-James. 
Thus  watch  I  o'er  insulted  laws, 
Thus  learn  to  right  the  injured  cause." 
Then,  in  a  tone  apart  and  low, 
"  Ah,  little  trait'ress !  none  must  know 
What  idle  dream,  what  lighter  thought, 
What  vanity  full  dearly  bought, 
Joined  to  thine  eye's  dark  witchcraft,  drew 
My  spell-bound  steps  to  Benvenue, 
In  dangerous  hour,  and  all  but  gave 
Thy  monarch's  life  to  mountain  glaive  !'* 
Aloud  he  spoke — "Thou  still  dost  hold 
That  little  talisman  of  gold, 
Pledge  of  my  faith,  Fitz-James's  ring : 
What  seeks  fair  Ellen  of  the  King  ?" 

Full  well  the  conscious  maiden  guessed 
He  probed  the  weakness  of  her  breast ; 
But  with  that  consciousness  there  came 
A  lightening  of  her  fears  for  Graeme, 
And  more  she  deemed  the  monarch's  ire 
Kindled  'gainst  him,  who,  for  her  sire, 
Rebellious  broadsword  boldly  drew  ; 
And,  to  her  generous  feeling  true, 
She  craved  the  grace  of  Roderick  Dhu. 

"  Forbear  thy  suit ;  the  King  of  kings 
Alone  can  stay  life's  parting  wings. 
I  know  his  heart,  I  know  his  hand, 
Have  shared  his  cheer,  and  proved  his  braadL 
My  fairest  earldom  would  I  give 
To  bid  Clan-Alpine's  chieftain  live  !— 
Hast  thou  no  other  boon  to  crave  ? 
No  other  captive  friend  to  save?" 
Blushing,  she  turned  her  from  the  king, 
And  to  the  Douglas  gave  the  ring, 
As  if  she  wished  her  sire  to  speak 
The  suit  that  stained  her  glowing  cheek. 

"  Nay,  then,  my  pledge  has  lost  its  force, 
And  stubborn  justice  holds  her  course. 
Malcolm,  come  forth!" — And,  at  the  word 
Down  knelt  the  Graeme  to  Scotland's  lord, 

"  For  thee,  rash  youth,,  no  suppliant  sues, 
From  thee  may  vengeance  claim  her  dues,. 
Who,  nurtured  underneath  our  smile, 
Hast  paid  our  care  by  treacherous  wile. 
And  sought,  amid  thy  faithful  clan, 
A  refuge  for  an  outlawed  man, 
Dishonoring  thus  thy  royal  name — 
Fetters  and  warder  for  the  Graeme  !'* 
His  chains  of  gold  the  king  unstrung, 
The  links  o'er  Malcolm's  neck  he  flung; 
Then  gently  drew  the  glittering  band, 
And  laid  the  clasp  on  Ellen's  hand. 

SIR  WAT.TSR  Score. 


652 


Observations  of  Rev.  Oabe  Tucker. 

U  may  notch  it  on  de  palin's  as  a  mighty  resky 
plan 

To  make  your  judgment  by  the  clo'es  dat  kivers 
up  a  man ; 
For  I  hardly  needs  to  tell  you  how  you  often  come  er- 

cross 

A  fifty-dollar  saddle  on  a  twenty-dollar  hoss. 
An,  '  wnkin  '  in  de  low-groun's,  you  diskiver,  as  you 

go. 

Dat  the  fines'  shuck  may  hide  de  meanes '  nubbin  in  a 

row! 
I  think  a  man  has  got  a  mighty  slender  chance  for 

heben 

Dat  holds  on  to  his  piety  Out  one  day  out  o'  seben ; 
Dat  talks  about  de  sinners  wid  a  heap  o'  solemn  chat, 
An'  nebber  draps  a  nickel  in  de  missionary  hat ; 
Dat's  foremost  in  the  meetin'-house  for  raisin  all  de 

chunes, 
But  lays  aside  his  'ligion  wid  his  Sunday  pantaloons ! 

I  nebber  judge  o'  people  dat  I  meets  along  the  way 
By  de  places  whar  dey  come  fum  an'  de  houses  whar 

dey  stay ; 
For  de  bantam  chicken's  awful  fond  o'  roostin  pretty 

high, 

An'  de  turkey-buzzard  sails  above  de  eagle  in  de  sky  ; 
Dey  ketches  little  minners  in  the  middle  ob  de  sea, 
An'  you  finds  de  smalles'  'possum  up  de  bigges'  kind 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 

The  Funeral. 

I 


o'tree  I 


J.  A.  MACON. 


The  Three  Dearest  Words. 

[ERE  are  three  words  that  sweetly  blend, 
That  on  the  heart  are  graven ; 
A  precious,  soothing  balm  they  lend — 
They're  mother,  home  and  heaven ! 

They  twine  a  wreath  of  beauteous  flowers, 

Which,  placed  on  memory's  urn, 
Will  e'en  the  longest,  gloomiest  hours 

To  golden  sunlight  turn  ! 

They  form  a  chain  whose  every  link 

Is  free  from  base  alloy ; 
A  stream  where  whosoever  drinks 

Will  find  refreshing  joy  ! 

tfhey  build  an  altar  where  each  day 

Love's  offering  is  renewed ; 
And  peace  illumes  with  genial  ray 

Life's  darkened  solitude ! 

If  from  our  side  the  first  nas  fled, 

And  home  be  but  a  name, 
X<et's  strive  the  narrow  path  to  tread, 

That  we  the  last  may  gain  ! 

MARY  J.  MUCKWJ. 


WAS  walking  in  Savannah,  past  a  church 

and  dim, 
When  there  slowly  through  the  window  came 

plaintive  funeral  hymn  ; 


And  a  sympathy  awakened,  and  a  wonder  quickly 

grew, 
Till  I  found  myself  environed  in  a  little  negro  pew. 

Out  at  front  a  colored  couple  sat  in  sorrow,  nearly 

wild, 

On  the  altar  was  a  coffin,  in  the  coffin  was  a  child. 
I  could  picture  him  when  living  —  curly  ha'r,  protrud 

ing  lip  — 

And  had  seen    perhaps  a  thousand  in  my  hurried 
southern  trip. 

But  no  baby  ever  rested  in  the  soothing  arms  of  death 
That  had  fanned  more  flames  of  sorrow  with  his 

fluttering  breath  ; 
And  no  funeral  ever  glistened  with  more  sympathy 

profound 
Than  was  in  the  chain  of  tear  drops  that  enclasped 

those  mourners  round. 

Rose  a  sad  old  colored  preacher  at  the  little  woodeo 

desk, 
With  a  manner  grandly  awkward,  with  a  countenance 

grotesque  ; 
With  simplicity  and  shrewdness  on   his   Ethiopian 

face; 
With  the  ignorance  and  wisdom  of  a  crushed,  nndyiflg 

race. 

And  he  said,    "Now,  don'  be  weepin'  for  dis  pretty 

bit  o'  clay 
For  de  little  boy  who  lived  there,  he  done  gone  and 

run  away  ! 

He  was  doin'  very  finely,  and  he  'precitate  your  love; 
But  his  sure  'nuff  Father  want  him  in  de  large  house 

up  above. 

"  Now,  He  didn't  give  you  dat  baby,  by  a  hundred 

thousand  mile  ! 
He  jist  think  you  need  some  sunshine,  an'  He  lend  it 

for  a  while  ! 
An'  He  let  you  keep  an*  love  him  till  your  heart  was 

bigger  grown  ; 
An'  dese  silver  tears  you're  sheddin's  jest  de  interest 

on  de  loan. 

"Here  yer  oder  pretty  chilrun  !  —  Don't  be  makin 

appear 
Dat  your  love  got  sort  o'  'nopolized  by  this  little  feL*  > 

here. 
Don't  pile  up  too  much  your  sorrows  on  deir  little- 

mental  shelves, 
So's  to  kind  o'  set  '«tn  wonderiu'  if  dey're  no  account 

demselves? 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY, 


053 


*'Just  you  think,  you  poor  deah  mounahs,  creepin' 
'long  o'er  sorrow's  way, 

What  a  blessed  little  picnic  dis  yere  baby's  got  to-day  I 

Your  good  faders  and  good  moders  crowd  de  little  fel 
low  round 

In  de  angel-tended  garden  of  de  Big  Plantation 
Ground. 

'  An'  dey  ask  him,  "  'Was  your  feet  sore?'  an'  take 

off  his  little  shoes. 
An'  dey  wash  him,  and  dey  kiss  him,  and  dey  say, 

'  Now,  what's  de  news  ? ' 
An'  de  Lawd  done  cut  his  tongue  loose,  den  de  little 

fellow  say : 
*  All  our  folks  down  in  de  valley  tries  to  keep  de  heb- 

enly  way.' 

"  An'  his  eyes  dey  brightly  sparkle  at  de  pretty  things 

he  view ; 
Den  a  tear  come,  and  he  whisper :   '  But  I  want  my 

paryents  too  ! ' 
But  de  Angel  Chief  Musician  teach  dat  boy  a  little 

song; 
Says,  'If  only  dey  be  faithful,  dey  will  soon  be  comin' 

'long.' 

"An'  he'll  get  an  education  dat  will  proberly  be  worth 

Seberal  times  as  much  as  any  you  could  buy  for  him 
on  earth; 

He'll  be  in  de  Lawd's  big  school-house,  widout  no 
contempt  or  fear, 

While  dere's  no  end  to  de  bad  tings  might  have  hap 
pened  to  him  here. 

"  So,  my  pooah  dejected  mounahs,  let  your  hearts  wid 

Jesus  rest, 
An'  don't  go  to  critersizin'  dat  ar  One  wot  knows  the 

best  I 
He  have  sent  us  many  comforts — He  have  right  to  take 

away — 
To  the  lyawd  be  praise  an'  glory,  now  and  ever!    Let 

us  pray."  Wiw.  M.  CARLETON. 


Shacob's  Lament. 

tXCOOSE  me  if  I  shed  some  tears, 

Und  wipe  my  nose  away ; 
Und  if  a  lump  vos  in  my  troat, 
It  comes  up  dere  to  shtay. 

My  sadness  I  shall  now  unfoldt, 

Und  if  dot  tale  of  woe 
Don'd  do  some  Dutchmans  any  good. 

Den  I  don't  pelief  I  know. 

You  see,  I  fall  myself  in  love, 

Und  effery  night  I  goes 
Across  to  Brooklyn  by  dot  pridge, 

All  dressed  in  Sunday  clothes. 


A  vidder  vomans  vos  der  brize. 

Her  husband  he  vos  dead ; 
Und  all  alone  in  this  coldt  vorldt 

Dot  vidder  vos,  she  said. 

Her  heart  for  love  vos  on  der  pinfit, 

Und  dot  I  like  to  see ; 
Und  all  der  time  I  hoped  dot  heart 

Vos  on  der  pine  for  me. 

I  keeps  a  butcher  shop,  you  know; 

Und  in  a  stocking  stout, 
I  put  avay  my  gold  and  bills, 

Und  no  one  gets  him  oudt. 

If  in  der  night  some  bank  cashier 
Goes  skipping  off  mit  cash, 

I  shleep  so  sound  as  nefer  vos, 
Vhile  rich  folks  go  to  shmash. 

I  court  dot  vidder  sixteen  mouths. 

Dot  vidder  she  courts  me, 
Und  vhen  I  says :  "  Vill  you  be  mine?1 

She  says :  "  You  bet  I'll  be !  " 

Ve  vos  engaged — oh  !  blessed  fact ! 

I  squeeze  dot  dimpled  hand  ; 
Her  head  upon  my  shoulder  lays, 

Shust  like  a  bag  of  sand. 

"  Before  der  vedding  day  vos  set,'* 

She  vispers  in  min«  ear, 
"  I  like  to  say  I  haf  to  use 

Some  cash,  my  Jacob,  dear. 

"  I  owns  dis  house  and  two  big  farms, 

Und  ponds  und  railroad  stock ; 
Und  up  in  Yonkers  I  bossess 
A  grand  big  peesness  block. 

"  Der  times  vos  dull,  my  butcher  boy, 

Der  market  vos  no  good, 
Und  if  I  sell " — I  squeezed  her  handt 
To  show  I  understood. 

Next  day — oxcoose  my  briny  tears— 
Dot  shtocking  took  a  shrink ; 

I  counted  out  twelve  hundred  in 
Der  cleanest  kind  o'  chink. 

Und  later,  by  two  days  or  more. 

Dot  vidder  shlopes  avay ; 
Und  leaves  a  note  behindt  for  m« 

In  vhich  dot  vidder  say : 


"  DEAR  SHAKE  : 


Der  rose  vos  redt, 

Der  violet  blue — 
You  see  I've  left, 

Und  you're  left,  toe  *  " 

CHARUCS  P. 


654 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


The  Drummer  Boy. 

AN  INCIDENT  OF  THE  CRIMEAN  WAR. 

APTAIN  GRAHAM,  the  men  were  say  in' 
Ye  would  want  a  drummer  lad, 

So  I've  brought  my  boy  Sandie, 

Tho'  my  heart  is  woeful  sad ; 
But  nae  bread  is  left  to  feed  us, 

And  no  siller  to  buy  more, 
For  the  gudeman  sleeps  forever, 

Where  the  heather  blossoms  o'er. 


14  Sandie,  make  your  manners  quickly, 
Play  your  blithest  measure  true — 
Give  us  '  Flowers  of  Edinboro', 

While  yon  fifer  plays  it  too. 
Captain,  heard  ye  e'er  a  player 

Strike  in  truer  time  than  he?" 
"  Nay,  in  truth,  brave  Sandie  Murray 
Drummer  of  our  corps  shall  be." 

"  I  give  ye  thanks — but,  Captain,  maybe 

Ye  will  hae  a  kindly  care 
For  the  friendless,  lonely  laddie, 

When  the  battle  wark  is  sair : 
For  Sandie's  aye  been  good  and  gentle, 

And  I've  nothing  else  to  love, 
Nothing — but  the  grave  off  yonder, 

And  the  Father  up  above." 

Then,  her  rough  hand  gently  laying 

On  the  curl-encircled  head, 
She  blessed  her  boy.     The  tent  was  silent. 

And  not  another  woid  was  said  ; 
For  Captain  Graham  was  sadly  dreaming 

Of  a  benison,  long  ago, 
Breathed  above  his  head,  then  golden, 

Bending  now,  and  touched  with  snow. 

J  Good-bye,  Sandie. "     "  Good-bye,  mother, 

I'll  come  back  some  summer  day  ; 
Don't  you  fear — they  don't  shoot  drummers 

Ever.    Do  they,  Captain  Gra ? 

One  more  kiss — watch  for  me,  mother, 

You  will  know  'tis  surely  me 
Coming  home — for  you  will  hear  me 

Playing  soft  the  reveille." 

After  battle.     Moonbeams  ghastly 

Seemed  to  link  in  strange  affright, 
As  the  scudding  clouds  before  them 

Shadowed  faces  dead  and  white ; 
And  the  night-wind  softly  whispered, 

When  low  moans  its  light  wing  bore — 
Moans  that  ferried  spirits  over 

Death's  dark  wave  to  yotider  shore. 


Wandering  where  a  footstep  careleu 

Might  go  splashing  down  in  blood 
Or  a  helpless  hand  lie  grasping 

Death  and  daisies  from  the  sod — 
Captain  Graham  walked  swift  onward, 

While  a  faintly-beaten  drum 
Quickened  heart  and  step  together : 

"  Sandie  Murray  !     See,  I  come  I 

*'  Is  it  thus  I  find  you,  laddie  ? 

Wounded,  lonely,  lying  here, 
Playing  thus  the  reveille  ? 

See — the  morning  is  not  near." 
A  moment  paused  the  drummer  boy, 

And  lifted  up  his  drooping  head : 
"  Oh,  Captain  Graham,  the  light  is  coming, 
'Tis  morning,  and  my  prayers  are  said. 

44  Morning  !    See,  the  plains  grow  brighto^— 

Morning — and  I'm  going  home ; 
That  is  why  I  play  the  measure, 

Mother  will  not  see  me  come  ; 
But  you'll  tell  her,  won't  you,  Captain — " 

Hush,  the  boy  has  spoken  true  ; 
To  him  the  day  has  dawned  forever, 

Unbroken  by  the  night's  tattoo. 


Help  One  Another. 

ELP  one  another,"  the  snow  flakes  said, 
As  they  cuddled  down  in  their  fleecy  be^? 
' '  One  of  us  here  would  not  be  felt, 
One  of  us  here  would  quickly  melt, 
But  I'll  help  you,  and  you  help  me, 
And  then  what  a  big  white  drift  we'll  see.** 

Help  one  another,"  the  maple  spray 
Said  to  its  fellow  leaves  one  day ; 
44  The  sun  would  wither  me  here  alone, 
Long  enough  ere  the  day  is  gone, 
But  I'll  help  you,  and  you  help  me, 
And  then  what  a  splendid  shade  there'll  be." 

4<  Help  one  another,"  the  dew  drop  cried, 
Seeing  another  drop  close  to  its  side  ; 

"This  warm  south  breeze  would  dry  me  away 
And  I  should  be  gone  ere  noon  to-day, 
But  I'll  help  yon,  and  you  help  me, 
And  we'll  make  a  brook  and  run  to  the  sea.*" 

44  Help  one  another,"  a  grain  of  sand 
Said  to  another  grain  just  at  hand  ; 

44  The  wind  may  carry  me  over  the  sea, 
And  then,  oh,  what  will  become  of  me  ? 
But  come,  my  brother,  give  me  your  hand, 
We'll  build  a  mountain  and  there  we'll  Btnai  * 


:HOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


655 


one  another,"  a  penny  said 
To  a  fellow  penny,  round  and  red  ; 
**  Nobody  cares  for  me  alone, 
Nobody '11  care  when  I  am  gone, 
But  we'll  stick  together,  and  grow  in  time 
To  a  nickel,  or  even  a  silver  dime." 

"Help  one  another,"  I  hear  the  dimes 

Whisper  beneath  the  Christmas  chimes  ; 
"We're  only  little  folks,  but  you  know 

Little  folks  sometimes  make  a  show, 

Ten  of  us,  if  we're  good  and  pure, 

Equal  a  big  round  dollar,  sure." 

And  so  the  snow  flakes  grew  to  drifts, 

The  grains  of  sand  to  mountains, 
The  leaves  became  a  pleasant  shade, 

And  dew  drops  fed  the  fountains ; 
The  pennies  grew  to  silver  dimes, 

The  dimes  to  dollars,  brcclier  ! 
And  children  bring  this  Christmas  gift 

By  helping  one  another. 

GEORGE  E.  HUNTING. 


Tom  Darling. 

)M  Darling  was  a  darling  Tom* 
(Excuse  all  vulgar  puns  ;) 
A  type  of  California's  bright 
Rising  and  setting  suns. 

His  father  was  an  austere  man— 

An  oyster  man  was  he, 
Who  opened  life  by  opening 

The  shell  fish  of  the  sea ; 

But  hearing  of  a  richer  clime, 

He  took  his  only  son, 
And  came  where  golden  minds  are  lost, 

While  golden  mines  are  won. 

They  hoped  to  fill  their  pockets  from 
Rich  pockets  in  the  ground  ; 

And  'midst  the  boulders  of  the  hills, 
None  bolder  could  be  found. 

For  though  a  mining  minor,  Tom 

Was  never  known  to  shirk  ; 
Ana  while  with  zeal  he  worked  his  claim, 

His  father  claimed  his  work. 

Time's  record  on  his  brow  now  show*d 

A  fair  and  spotless  page ; 
And,  as  his  age  became  him  well, 

He  soon  became  of  age. 

Thinking  that  he  was  up  to  all 

The  California  tricks, 
He  now  resolved  to  pick  his  way 

Without  the  aid  of  picks. 


In  less  than  eighteen  circling  moons 

Two  fortunes  he  had  made  ; 
One  by  good  luck  at  trade  in  stock, 

And  one  by  stock  in  trade. 

With  health  and  wealth  he  now  could  Ifor 

Upon  the  easy  plan ; 
While  everybody  said,  of  course, 

He  was  a  fine  young  man. 

But  Thomas  fell,  and  sadly  too, 
Who  of  his  friends  would  'thought  it 

He  ran  for  office,  and  alas ! 
For  him  and  his — he  caught  it. 

Mixing  no  more  with  sober  men, 
He  found  his  morals  fleeing ; 

And  being  of  a  jovial  turn, 
He  turned  a  jovial  being. 

With  governor  and  constable 

His  cash  he  freely  spends ; 
From  constable  to  governor, 

He  bad  a  host  of  friends. 

But  soon  he  found  he  could  not  take, 

As  his  old  father  would, 
A  little  spirits,  just  enough 

To  do  his  spirits  good. 

In  councils  with  the  patriots 

Upon  affairs  of  State, 
Setting  no  bars  to  drinking,  he 

Soon  lost  his  upright  gait. 

His  brandy  straightway  made  him  walk 

In  very  crooked  ways  ; 
While  lager  beer  brought  to  his  view 

A  bier  and  span  of  grays. 

The  nips  kept  nipping  at  his  purse- 

(Two  bits  for  every  dram), 
While  clear  champagne  produced  ir 

A  pain  that  was  no  sham. 

His  cups  of  wine  were  followed  by 

The  doctor's  painful  cup  ; 
Each  morning  found  him  getting  lav 

As  he  was  getting  up. 

Thus  uselessly,  and  feebly  did 

His  short  existence  flit, 
Till  in  a  drunken  fight  he  fell 

Into  a  drunken  fit. 

The  doctors  came,  but  here  their  skfl) 

They  found  of  no  avail ; 
They  all  agreed  what  ailed  poor  Tom 

Was  politics  and  ale. 

L.  F. 


CHOICE  SELECTIONS  OF  POETRY. 


Lightens  Labor. 

GOOD  wife  rose  from  her  bed  one  morn, 

And  thought  with  a  nervous  dread 
Of  the  piles  of  clothes  to  be  washed,  and  mote 

Than  a  dozen  mouths  to  be  fed. 
"There's  the  meals  to  get  for  the  men  in  the  field, 

And  the  children  to  fix  away 

To  school,  and  the  milk  to  be  skimmed  and  churned; 
And  all  to  be  done  this  day. 

It  h&d  rained  in  the  night,  and  all  the  wood 

Was  wet  as  v.  could  be ; 
There  were  puddings  and  pies  to  bake,  besides 

A  loaf  of  cake  for  tea. 
And  the  day  was  hot,  and  her  aching  head 

Throbbed  wearily  as  she  said, 
"If  maidens  but  knew  what  good  wives  know, 

They  would  not  be  in  haste  to  wed ! " 

"Jennie,  what  do  you  think  I  told  Ben  Brown?" 

Called  the  farmer  from  the  well ; 
And  a  flush  crept  up  to  his  bronzed  brow, 

And  his  eyes  half  bashfully  fell ; 
*  It  was  this,"  he  said,  and  coming  near 

He  smiled,  and  stooping  down, 
Kissed  her  cheek — "  'twas  this,  that  you  were  the  best 

And  the  dearest  wife  in  town  !  " 

The  farmer  went  back  to  the  field  and  the  wife 

In  a  smiling,  absent  way 
Sang  snatches  of  tender  little  songs 

She'd  not  sung  for  many  a  day. 
And  the  pain  in  her  head  was  gone,  and  the  clothes 

Were  white  as  the  foam  of  the  sea  ; 
Her  bread  was  light,  and  her  butter  was  sweet, 

And  as  golden  as  it  could  be. 

"Just  think,"  the  <  hildren  all  called  in  a  breath, 

"  Tom  Wood  has  run  off  to  sea  ! 
He  wouldn't,  I  know,  if  he'd  only  had 

As  liappy  a  home  as  we." 
The  night  came  down,  and  the  good  wife  smiled 

To  herself,  as  she  softly  said  : 
**  'Tis  so  sweet  to  labor  for  those  we  love, — 
"It's  not  strange  that  maids  will  wed  I" 


The  Soft  Guitar. 

SCENE  :  Moonlight.  Beneath  the  lady's  window  appeareth  the 
•,  andeingeth,  with  guitar  accompaniment. 


LOVER. 

^PEN  thy  lattice,  O  lady  bright ! 

The  earth  lies  calm  in  the  fair  moonlight ; 
Gaze  on  the  glint  of  each  glancing  star, 
And  list  to  the  notes  of  my  soft  guitar. 

At  the  lady's  window  a  vision  shone — 
Twas  the  hidy's  head  with  a  night-cap  on. 


LOVER. 

(In  ecstasy.} 

See !  at  the  casement  appearing  now, 
With  lily  fingers  she  hides  her  brow. 
Oh,  weep  not — though  bitter  thy  sorrows  are, 
I  will  soothe  them  to  rest  with  my  soft  guitar. 
Then  the  lady  answered,  "  Who's  going  to  weep? 
Go  'vray  with  your  fiddle,  and  let  me  sleep." 

LOVER. 

(Saddened,  but  still  hopeful.) 
Then  sleep,  dear  lady  :    thy  fringed  lids  close, 
Pinions  of  cherubim  fan  thy  repose, 
While  through  thy  casement,  slightly  ajar, 
Steal  the  sweet  notes  of  my  soft  guitar. 

Then  the  lady  her  "  secret  pain  "  confessed 
With  the  plaintive  murmur,  "Oh,  give  us  a  rest? 

LOVER. 

(Slightly  discouraged.) 
Chiue  me  not  harshly,  O  lady  fair ! 
Bend  from  thy  lattice,  and  hear  my  prayer. 
Sighing  for  thee,  I  wander  afar, 
Mournfully  touching  my  soft  guitar. 

And  the  lady  answered  :     "You  stupid  thing, 
If  you've  got  the  catarrh,  stop  trying  to  sing!  '* 

LOVER. 

(Filled  with  natural  and  righteous  indignation*] 

Cruel  but  fair  one,  thy  scorn  restrain  I 
Better  death's  quiet  than  thy  disdain. 
I  go  to  fall  in  some  distant  war, 
Bearing  in  battle  my  loved  guitar. 

Answered  the  lady  :    "  Well,  hurry  and  go! 
I'm  holding  the  slop-basin  ready  to  throw.'* 

LOVER. 

(Making  immediate  preparations  to  deport.) 
False  one,  I  leave  thee !     When  I'm  at  rest 
Still  shall  my  memory  haunt  thy  breast ; 
A  spectral  vision  thy  joy  shall  mar— 
A  skeleton  playing  a  soft  guitar  1 

And  the  lady  cried,  in  a  scornful  tone, 
"  Old  skeleton,  go  it — and  play  it  alone  /  " 

Then  the  lover  in  agony  roamed  afar- 
Fell  drunk  in  the  gutter,  and  smashed  his  guitar. 

P.  H.  Bowwt. 


OF 


ANCIENT   AND   MODERN 
ELOQUENCE. 

*  T  the  revival  of  letters  in  modern  Europe, 
Eloquence,  together  with  her  sister 
muses,  awoke,  Mid  shook  the  poppies 
from  her  brow.  But  their  torpors 
still  tingled  ID  her  veins.  In  the 
interval  her  Yoice  was  gone;  her 
favorite  languages  were  extinct;  her 
organs  were  no  longer  attuned  to  har 
mony,  and  her  hearers  could  no  longer 
understand  her  speech.  The  discord 
ant  jargon  of  feudal  anarchy  "bad  banished  the  musical 
dialects,  in  which  she  had  always  delighted.  The 
theatres  of  her  former  triumph  were  either  deserted, 
or  they  were  filled  with  the  dabblers  of  sophistry  and 
chicane.  She  shrunk  intuitively  from  the  former,  for 
the  last  object  she  remembered  to  have  seen  there  was 
the  head  of  her  darling  Cicero  planted  upon  the 
rostrum. 

She  ascended  the  tribunals  of  justice  ;  there  she 
found  her  child,  Persuasion,  manacled  and  pinioned  by 
the  letter  of  the  law  ;  there  she  beheld  an  image  of 
herself,  stammering  in  barbarous  Latin,  and  staggering 
under  the  lumber  of  a  thousand  volumes.  Her  heart 
fainted  within  her.  She  lost  all  confidence  in  herself. 
Together  with  all  her  irresistible  powers,  she  lost  pro- 
portionably  the  consideration  of  the  world,  until, 
instead  of  comprising  the  whole  system  of  public 
education,  she  found  herself  excluded  from  the  circle 
of  science,  and  declared  an  outlaw  from  the  realms  of 
learning. 

She  was  not  however  doomed  to  eternal  silence. 
With  the  progress  of  freedom  and  of  liberal  science, 
in  various  parts  of  modern  Europe,  she  obtained  access 
to  mingle  in  the  deliberations  of  her  parliaments. 
With  labor  and  difficulty  she  learned  their  languages, 
and  lent  her  aid  in  giving  them  form  and  polish.  But 
she  has  never  recovered  the  graces  of  her  former 
beauty,  nor  the  energies  of  her  ancient  vigor. 

JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS. 

WHAT  !S  A    MINORITY? 


*7^7T*HAT  is  a  minority?    The  chosen  heroes  of 

V  X  /      *^  eartk  have  been  in  a  minority.     There 

\t  at       is  not  a  social,  political,  or  religious  privi 

lege  that  you  enjoy  to-day  that  was  not 

bought  for  you  by  the  blood  and  tears  and  patient 

Buffering  of  the  minority.   It  is  the  minority  that  have 

vindicated  humanity  in  every  struggle.     It  is  a  mi- 

42 


nority  that  have  stood  in  the  van  of  every  moral  con 
flict,  and  achieved  all  that  is  noble  in  the  history  of  the 
world.  You  will  find  that  each  generation  has  been 
always  busy  in  gathering  up  the  scattered  ashes  of  the 
martyred  heroes  of  the  past,  to  deposit  them  in  the 
golden  urn  of  a  nation's  history.  Look  at  Scotland, 
where  they  are  erecting  monuments — to  whom? — to 
the  Covenanters.  Ah,  they  were  in  a  minority,  liead 
their  history,  if  you  can,  without  the  blood  tingling  to 
the  tips  of  your  fingers.  These  were  in  the  minority, 
that,  through  blood,  and  tears,  and  bootings  and 
scourgings — dying  the  waters  with  their  blood,  and 
staining  the  heather  with  their  gore — fought  the 
glorious  battle  of  religious  freedom. 

Minority  !  if  a  man  stands  up  for  the  right,  though 
the  right  be  on  the  scaffold,  while  the  wrong  sits  in  the 
seat  of  government ;  if  he  stands  for  the  right,  though 
he  eat,  with  the  right  and  truth,  a  wretched  crust ;  if 
he  walk  with  obloquy  and  scorn  in  the  by-lanes  and 
streets,  while  the  falsehood  and  wrong  ruffle  it  in  silken 
attire,  let  him  remember  that  wherever  the  right  and 
truth  are  there  are  always 

"  Troops  of  beautiful,  tall  angels  " 

gathered  round  him,  and  God  Himself  stands  within 
the  dim  future,  and  keeps  watch  over  his  own  !  If  a 
matt  stands  for  the  right  and  the  truth,  though  every 
man's  finger  be  pointed  at  him,  though  every  woman's 
lip  be  curled  at  him  in  scorn,  he  stands  in  a  majority ; 
for  God  and  good  angels  are  with  him,  and  greater 
are  they  that  are  for  him  than  all  they  that  be  against 
him. 

JOHN  B.  GOVOH. 

WASHINGTON'S  COUNTRY. 

Delivered  at  the  centennial  celebration  of  Washington's  iaaognratfoa, 
New  York,  April  30, 1889. 

LOT  out  from  the  page  of  history  the  names  of 
all  the  great  actors  of  his  time  in  the  drama 
of  nations,  and  preserve  the  name  of  Wash 
ington,  and  the  century  would  be  renowned. 
We  stand  to-day  upon  the  dividing  line  between  the 
first  and  second  century  of  constitutional  government 
There  are  no  clouds  overhead  and  no  convulsions  under 
our  feet  We  reverently  return  thanks  to  Almighty 
God  for  the  past,  and  with  confident  and  hopeful 
promise  march  upon  sure  ground  toward  the  future. 
The  simple  facts  of  these  hundred  years  paralyze  the 
imagination,  and  we  contemplate  the  vast  accumula 
tions  of  the  century  with  awe  and  pride.  Our  popu 
lation  has  grown  from  four  to  sixty-five  millions.  Itt 

657 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


centre,  moving  westward  five  hundred  mile*  since  1789, 
is  eloquent  with  the  founding  of  cities  and  the  birth 
of  States.  New  settlements  clearing  the  forests  and 
subduing  the  prairies  and  adding  four  millions  to  the 
few  thousands  of  farms  which  were  the  support  of 
Washington's  republic,  create  one  of  the  great  grana 
ries  of  the  world  and  open  ezhaustless  reservoirs  of 
national  wealth. 

The  flower  of  the  youth  of  the  nations  of  continental 
[Europe  are  conscripted  from  productive  industries  and 
•drilling  in  camps.  Vast  armies  stand  in  battle  array 
along  the  frontiers,  and  a  Kaiser's  whim  or  a  minister's 
mistake  may  precipitate  the  most  destructive  war  of 
modern  times.  Both  monarchial  and  republican  gov 
ernments  are  seeking  safety  in  the  repression  and 
suppression  of  opposition  and  criticism.  The  volcanic 
forces  of  democratic  aspiration  and  socialistic  revolt 
are  rapidly  increasing  and  threaten  peace  and  security. 
We  turn  from  these  gathering  storms  to  the  British 
Isles  and  find  their  people  in  the  throes  of  a  political 
crisis  involving  the  form  and  substance  of  their  gov 
ernment,  and  their  statesmen  far  from  confident  that 
the  enfranchised  and  unprepared  masses  will  wisely 
use  their  power. 

But  for  us  no  army  exhausts  our  resources  nor  con 
sumes  our  youth.  Our  navy  must  needs  increase  in 
order  that  the  protecting  flag  may  follow  the  expanding 
commerce,  which  is  to  successfully  compete  in  all  the 
markets  of  the  world.  The  sun  of  our  destiny  h  still 
rising,  and  its  rays  illuminate  vast  territories  fcs  yet 
unoccupied  and  undeveloped,  and  which  are  t<y  be  the 
happy  homes  of  millions  of  people.  The  questions 
which  affect  the  powers  of  government  und  the  ex 
pansion  or  limitation  of  the  authority  of  the  Federal 
(Constitution  are  so  completely  settled  and  so  unani 
mously  approved,  that  our  political  divisions  produce 
only  the  healthy  antagonism  of  parties  which  is  nec 
essary  for  the  preservation  of  liberty. 

Our  institutions  furnish  the  full  equipment  of  shield 
and  spear  for  the  battles  of  freedom,  and  absolute 
protection  against  every  danger  which  threatens  the 
Welfare  of  the  people  will  always  be  found  in  the  in 
telligence  which  appreciates  their  value,  and  the 
courage  and  morality  with  which  their  powers  are 
exercised.  The  spirit  of  Washington  fills  the  execu 
tive  office.  Presidents  may  not  rise  to  the  full  measure 
of  his  greatness,  but  they  must  not  fall  below  his 
standard  of  public  duty  and  obligation.  His  life  and 
character,  conscientiously  studied  and  thoroughly 
understood  by  coming  generations,  will  be  for  them  a 
liberal  education  for  private  life  and  public  station,  for 
citizenship  and  patriotism,  for  love  and  devotion  to 
tJnion  and  Liberty.  With  their  inspiring  past  and 
splendid  present  the  people  of  these  United  States, 
neirs  of  a  hundred  years  marvelously  rich  in  all  which 
adds  to  the  glory  and  greatness  of  a  nation,  with  an 
abiding  trust  in  the  stability  and  elasticity  of  their 
Constitution  and  an  abounding  faith  in  themselves, 
hail  the  coming  century  with  hope  and  joy. 

CHAUNCBT  M.   DEPEW 


THE    ULTIMA   THULR. 

WHEN  we  engage  in  that  solemn  study,  the 
history  of  our  race  ;  surveying  the  progress 
of  man,  from  his  cradle  in  the  east  to 
these  limits  of  his  wanderings ;  when  we 
behold  him  forever  flying  westward  from  civil  and  re 
ligious  thraldom,  over  mountains  and  seas,  seeking  rest 
and  finding  none,  but  still  pursuing  the  flying  bow  of 
promise  to  the    glittering    hills  which  it  spans   in 
Hesperian  climes ;  we  cannot  but  exclaim,  with  Bishop 
Berkeley,   the  generous  prelate,   who  bestowed    bit 
benefactions,  as  well  as  blessings,  on  our  country — 

"Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way ; 

The  first  four  acts  already  past, 
A  fifth  shall  close  the  drama  with  the  day ; 
Time's  noblest  offspring  is  the  last." 

'mis  exclamation  is  but  the  embodiment  of  a  vision, 
which  the  ancients,  from  the  earliest  period,  cherished 
of  some  favored  land  beyond  the  mountains  and  the 
seas ;  a  land  of  equal  laws  and  happy  men.  The 
primitive  poets  placed  it  in  the  Islands  of  the  Blest ; 
the  Doric  bards  dimly  beheld  it  in  the  Hyperborean 
region  ;  the  mystical  sage  of  the  Academy  found  it  in 
his  lost  Atlantis ;  and  even  the  stern  spirit  of  Seneca 
dreamed  of  the  restoration  of  the  golden  age  in  dis 
tant  worlds,  hereafter  to  be  discovered. 

Can  we  look  back  upon  these  uninspired  prediction*, 
and  not  feel  the  weight  of  obligations  which  they 
imply?  Here  must  these  bright  fancies  be  turned 
into  truth  ;  here  must  these  high  visions  be  realised, 
in  which  the  seers  and  sages  of  the  elder  world  took 
refuge  from  the  calamities  of  the  days  in  which  they 
lived.  There  are  no  more  continents  to  be  revealed ; 
Atlantis  hath  arisen  from  the  ocean  ;  the  farthest 
thule  is  reached ;  there  are  no  more  retreats  beyond 
the  sea,  no  more  discoveries,  no  more  hopes. 

EDWARD  EVBRBR. 

CALIFORNIA   AND   PLYMOUTH   ROCK. 

T  /gET  us  vote  upon  the  measures  before  us,  begro- 
l  ning  with  the  admission  of  California.  Let 
JnA  ns  vote  her  in.  Let  us  vote,  after  four 
months'  talk.  The  people  who  have  gone 
there  have  done  honor  to  the  American  name.  Start 
ing  from  a  thousand  points,  and  meeting  as  strangers 
far  removed  from  law  and  government,  they  have  con 
ducted  themselves  with  the  order,  decorum  and  justice, 
which  would  have  done  honor  to  the  oldest  established 
and  best  regulated  community.  They  have  carried  our 
institutions  to  the  furthest  verge  of  the  land — to  the 
coast  of  the  Pacific,  and  lit  it  up  with  the  lights  of 
religion,  liberty,  and  science — lights  which  will  shine 
across  the  broad  ocean,  and  illuminate  the  dark  recesses 
of  benighted  Asia.  They  have  completed  the  work 
of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers. 

Would  to  God  that  those  who  landed  on  the  Rook, 
and  on  the  banks  of  the  James  river,  more  than  two 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


659 


hundred  yeai*  ago,  and  who  crossed  the  stormy 
Atlantic  in  search  of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  and 
who  did  so  much  for  both  in  their  day  and  generation, 
could  now  see  what  has  been  done  in  our  day !  could 
look  down  from  their  celestial  abodes,  and  see  the 
spark  which  they  struck  from  the  flint  now  blazing 
with  a  light  which  fixes  the  gaze  of  the  world — see 
the  mustard  seed  which  they  planted,  now  towering  to 
the  skies,  and  spreading  its  branches  from  the  Atlantic 
to  the  Pacific.  With  what  rapture  would  they  wel 
come  the  Pilgrims  of  California  into  the  family  circle, 
while  we,  their  descendants,  sit  here  in  angry  debate, 
tepulsing  our  brethren,  calculating  the  value  of  the 
[Union,  and  threatening  to  rend  it  asunder  if  California 
IB  admitted. 

THOMAS   H.   BENTON. 

EULOGIUM   ON   ANDREW  JACKSON. 

1  NO  man  in  private  life  so  possessed  the  hearts  of 
|§)/  all  around  him — no  public  man  of  this  century 
1.  /  ever  returned  to  private  life  with  such  an 
*9  abiding  mastery  over  the  affections  of  the 
people.  No  man  with  truer  instinct  received  American 
ideas — no  man  expressed  them  so  completely,  or  so 
boldly  or  so  sincerely.  He  was  as  sincere  a  man  as 
ever  lived.  He  was  wholly,  always,  and  altogether 
eincere  and  true.  Up  to  the  last,  he  dared  to  do  any 
thing  that  it  was  right  to  do.  He  united  personal 
courage  and  moral  courage  beyond  any  man  of  whom 
history  keeps  the  record.  Before  the  nation,  before 
the  world,  before  coming  ages,  he  stands  forth  the 
representative,  for  his  generation,  of  the  American 
mind.  And  the  secret  of  his  greatness  is  this :  by 
intuitive  conception,  he  shared  and  possessed  all  the 
creative  ideas  of  his  country  and  his  time.  He  ex 
pressed  them  with  dauntless  intrepidity ;  he  enforced 
them  with  an  immovable  will ;  he  executed  them  with 
an  electric  power,  that  attracted  and  swayed  the 
American  people.  The  nation,  in  his  time,  had  not 
one  great  thought,  of  which  he  was  not  the  boldest  and 
clearest  expositor. 

History  does  not  describe  the  man  that  equalled  him 
in  firmness  of  nerve.  Not  danger,  not  an  army  in 
battle  array,  not  wounds,  not  wide-spread  clamor,  not 
age,  not  the  anguish  of  disease,  could  impair,  in  the 
least  degree,  the  vigor  of  his  steadfast  mind.  The 
heroes  of  antiquity  would  have  contemplated  with 
awe  the  unmatched  hardihood  of  his  character ;  and 
Napoleon,  had  he  possessed  his  disinterested  will, 
could  never  have  been  vanquished.  Andrew  Jackson 
never  was  vanquished.  He  was  always  fortunate.  He 
conquered  the  wilderness ;  he  conquered  the  savage  ;  he 
conquered  the  bravest  veterans  trained  in  the  battle 
fields  of  Europe  :  he  conquered  everywhere  in  statesman 
ship  ;  and,  when  death  came  to  get  themasteryoverhim, 
he  turned  that  last  enemy  aside  as  tranquilly  as  he  had 
done  the  feeblest  of  his  adversaries,  and  escaped  from 
•arth  in  the  triumphant  consciousness  of  immortality. 
His  body  has  its  fit  resting-place  in  the  great  central 


valley  of  the  Mississippi;  his  epmt  rests  ujpon  ou* 
whole  territory ;  it  hovers  over  the  vales  of  Oregon, 
and  guards,  in  advance,  the  frontier  of  Del  Norte, 
The  fires  of  party  spirit  are  quenched  at  his  grave. 
His  faults  and  frailties  have  perished.  Whatever  of 
good  he  has  done  lives,  and  will  live  forever. 

GEOBGB    BANCROFT. 

INJUSTICE    TOWARD    KOSSUTH. 

YT7HE  Emperor  of  Russia  demands  of  Turkey  that 
j  I  L  the  noble  Kossuth  and  his  companions  shall 

JL  be  given  up.  This  demand  is  made  in  derision 
of  the  established  law  of  nations.  Gentle 
men,  there  is  something  on  earth  greater  than  arbitrary 
or  despotic  power.  The  lightning  has  ite  power,  and 
the  whirlwind  has  its  power,  and  the  earthquake  has 
its  power.  But  there  is  something  among  men  more 
capable  of  shaking  despotic  power  than  lightning, 
whirlwind,  or  earthquake — that  is,  the  threatened 
indignation  of  the  whole  civilized  world. 

Let  no  one  imagine  that  mere  force  can  subdue  the 
general  sentiment  of  mankind.  It  is  much  more 
likely  to  extend  that  sentiment,  and  to  destroy  that 
power  which  he  most  desires  to  establish  and  secure. 
The  bones  of  poor  John  Wickliffe  were  dug  out  of  his 
grave  seventy  years  after  his  death,  and  burnt,  for  his 
heresy,  and  his  ashes  were  thrown  upon  a  river  in 
Warwickshire.  Some  prophet  of  that  day  said  : 

"The  Avon  to  the  Severn  runs, 

The  Severn  to  the  sea, 
And  Wickliffe' s  dust  shall  spread  abroad 
Wide  as  the  waters  be. ' ' 

Gentlemen,  if  the  blood  of  Kossuth  is  taken  by  in 
absolute,  unqualified,  unjustifiable  violation  of  national 
law,  what  will  it  appease — what  will  it  pacify?  It  will 
mingle  with  the  earth — it  will  mix  with  the  waters  of 
the  ocean — the  whole  civilized  world  will  snuff  it  in  the 
air,  and  it  will  return  with  awful  retribution  on  the 
heads  of  those  violators  of  national  law  and  universal 
justice.  I  cannot  say  when,  or  in  what  form;  but 
depend  upon  it,  that  if  such  an  act  take  place,  the 
thrones  and  principalities  and  powers  must  look  out 
for  the  consequences. 

DANIEL  WEBSTEK. 

THE   SOURCE   OF  PARTY   WISDOM. 

IHAVE  seen  the  sea  lashed  into  fury  and  tossed 
into  spray,  and  its  grandeur  moves  the  soul  of 
the  dullest  man ;  but  I  remember  that  it  is  not 
the  billows,  but  the  calm  level  of  the  sea,  from 
which  all  heights  and  depths  are  measured.     When 
the  storm  has  passed  and  the  hour  of  calm  settles  ou 
the  ocean,  when  the  sunlight  bathes  its  smooth  surface, 
then  the  astronomer  and  surveyor  take  the  level  front 
which  to  measure  all  terrestrial  heights  and  depths 

Gentlemen  of  the  convention,  your  present  temper 
may  not  mark  the  healthful  pulse  of  our  people  wbib 


ceo 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


our  enthusiasm  has  passed.  When  the  emotions  of 
this  hour  have  subsided  we  shall  find  that  calm  level 
of  public  opinion  below  the  storm,  from  which  the 
thoughts  of  a  mighty  people  are  to  be  measured,  and 
by  which  their  final  action  will  be  determined.  Not 
here  in  this  brilliant  circle,  where  fifteen  thousand 
men  and  women  are  assembled,  is  the  destiny  of  the 
Republican  party  to  be  declared.  Not  here,  where  I 
<  see  the  faces  of  seven  hundred  and  fifty-six  delegates 
•waiting  to  cast  their  votes  in  the  ura  and  determine 
the  choice  of  the  republic,  but  by  four  million  Repub 
lican  firesides,  where  the  thoughtful  voters,  with  wives 
and  children  about  them,  with  the  calm  thoughts  in 
spired  by  the  love  of  home  and  country,  with  the 
history  of  the  past,  the  hopes  of  the  future,  and  a 
knowledge  of  the  great  men  who  have  adorned  and 
blessed  our  nation  in  days  gone  by — there  God  pre 
pares  the  verdict  that  shall  determine  the  wisdom  of 
our  work  to-night.  Not  in  Chicago,  in  the  heats  of 
June,  but  in  the  sober  quiet  that  comes  to  them 
between  now  and  November  ;  in  the  silence  of  delib 
erate  judgment  will  the  great  question  be  settled. 

JAMES  A.  GARFIELD. 

DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON. 

E  was  an  emperor.  But  he  saw  around  him  a 
mother,  brothers  and  sisters,  not  ennobled ; 
whose  humble  state  reminded  him  and  the 
world  that  he  was  born  a  plebeian  ;  and  he 
had  no  heir  to  wait  for  the  imperial  crown.  He 
scourged  the  earth  again,  and  again  fortune  smiled  on 
him  even  in  his  wild  extravagance.  He  bestowed 
kingdoms  and  principalities  upon  his  kindred — put 
away  the  devoted  wife  of  his  youthful  days,  and 
another,  a  daughter  of  Hapsburgh's  imperial  house, 
joyfully  accepted  his  proud  alliance.  Offspring  glad 
dened  his  anxious  sight ;  a  diadem  was  placed  on  its 
infant  brow,  and  it  received  the  homage  of  princes, 
even  in  its  cradle. 

Now  he  was  indeed  a  monarch — a  legitimate  mon 
arch — a  monarch  by  divine  appointment — the  first  of 
an  endless  succession  of  monarchs.  But  there  were 
other  monarchs  who  held  sway  in  the  earth.  He  was 
aot  content,  he  would  reign  with  his  kindred  alone. 
He  gathered  new  and  greater  armies,  from  his  own 
land — from  subjugated  lands.  He  called  forth  the 
young  and  brave — one  from  every  household — from 
the  Pyrenees  to  the  Zuyder-Zee — from  Jura  to  the 
ocean.  He  marshalled  them  into  long  and  majestic 
columns,  and  went  forth  to  seize  that  universal 
dominion,  which  seemed  almost  within  his  grasp.  But 
ambitUn  had  tempted  fortune  too  far.  The  nations 
of  the  earth  resisted,  repelled,  pursued,  surrounded 
him.  The  pageant  was  ended. 

The  crown  fell  from  his  presumptuous  head.  The 
wife  who  had  wedded  him  in  his  pride  forsook  him 
when  the  hour  of  fear  came  upon  him.  His  child  was 
ravished  from  his  sight.  His  kinsmen  were  degraded 
to  their  first  estate,  and  he  was  no  longer  emperor,  nor 


consul,  nor  general,  nor  even  a  citizen,  but  an  exfl* 
and  a  prisoner,  on  a  lonely  island,  in  the  midst  of  the 
wild  Atlantic.  Discontent  attended  him  here.  The 
wayward  man  fretted  out  a  few  long  years  of  his  yet 
unbroken  manhood,  looking  off  at  the  earliest  dawn 
and  in  evening's  latest  twilight,  toward  that  distant 
world  that  had  only  just  eluded  his  grasp.  His  heart 
corroded.  Death  came,  not  unlocked  for,  though  it 
came  even  then  unwelcome.  He  was  stretched  on  his 
bed  within  the  fort  which  constituted  his  prison.  A 
few  fast  and  faithful  friends  stood  around,  with  the 
guards  who  rejoiced  that  the  hour  of  relief  from  lony 
and  wearisome  watching  was  at  hand.  As  his  strength 
wasted  away,  delirium  stirred  up  the  brain  from  it| 
long  and  inglorious  inactivity. 

The  pageant  of  ambition  returned.  He  was  again 
a  lieutenant,  a  general,  a  consul,  an  emperor  of  France. 
He  filled  again  the  throne  of  Charlemagne.  Hii 
kindred  pressed  around  him,  again  invested  with  tht 
pompous  pageantry  of  royalty.  The  daughter  of  the 
long  line  of  kings  again  stood  proudly  by  his  side,  and 
the  sunny  face  of  his  child  shone  out  from  beneath 
the  diadem  that  encircled  its  flowing  locks.  The 
marshals  of  Europe  awaited  his  command.  The 
legions  of  the  old  guard  were  in  the  field,  their  scarred 
faces  rejuvenated,  and  their  ranks,  thinned  in  many 
battles,  replenished.  Russia,  Prussia,  Denmark  and 
England  gathered  their  mighty  hosts  to  give  him 
battle.  Once  more  he  mounted  his  impatient  charger, 
and  rushed  forth  to  conquest.  He  waved  his  sword 
aloft  and  cried  "  TETK  D'ARMEE.  "  The  feverish  vision 
broke — the  mockery  was  ended.  The  silver  cord  was 
loosened,  and  the  warrior  fell  back  upon  his  bed  a  life 
less  corpse.  This  was  the  end  of  earth.  The  Corsica! 
was  now  content. 

WILLIAM   H.  SEWAED. 

TRUE    GRANDEUR  OF   NATIONS. 

aASTINGr  our  eyes  over  the  history  of  nations, 
with  horror  we  discern  the  succession  of  mur 
derous  slaughters,  by  which  their  progress  has 
been  marked.     Even  as  the  hunter  traces  the 
wild  beast,  when  pursued  to  his  lair,  by  the  drops  of 
blood  on  the  earth,  so  we  follow  man,  weary,  staggering 
with  wounds,  through  the  black  forest  of  the  past, 
which  he  has  reddened  with  his  gore.     0,  let  it  not 
be  in  the  future  ages,  as  in  those  which  we  now  ton- 
template  !    Let   the  grandeur  of  men  be  discerned, 
not  in  bloody  victories,  or  in  ravenous  conquests,  but 
in  the  blessings  which  he  has  secured ;  in  the  good  lie 
has  accomplished  ;  in  the  triumphs  of  benevolence  and 
justice  ;  in  the  establishment  of  perpetual  peace. 

As  the  ocean  washes  every  shore,  and,  with  all-em 
bracing  arms,  clasps  every  land,  while,  on  its  heaving 
bosom,  it  bears  the  products  of  various  climes ;  so 
peace  surrounds,  protects,  and  upholds  all  other 
blessings.  Without  it,  commerce  is  vain,  the  ardor 
of  industry  is  restrained,  justice  is  arrested,  happiness 
is  blasted,  virtue  sickens  and  dies. 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


661 


And  peace  has  its  own  peculiar  victories,  in  com 
parison  with  which  Marathon  and  Bannockburn  and 
Banker  Hill,  fields  held  sacred  in  the  history  of 
human  freedom,  shall  lose  their  lustre.  Our  own 
Washington  rises  to  a  truly  heavenly  stature — not 
when  we  follow  him  over  the  ice  of  the  Delaware  to 
the  capture  of  Trenton — not  when  we  behold  him 
victorious  over  Cornwallis  at  Yorktown — but  when  we 
regard  him  in  noble  deference  to  justice,  refusing  the 
kingly  crown  which  a  faithless  soldiery  proffered,  and, 
at  a  later  day,  upholding  the  peaceful  neutrality  of 
the  country,  while  he  received  unmoved  the  clamor  of 
the  people  wickedly  crying  for  war. 

CHARLES  SUMNER. 
VICISSITUDES    OF    1849. 

^H^HIS  fatal  year,  '49 — will  it  never  have  done 
©14  W^  *te  Desolations  ?  Pestilence  has  stalked, 

JL  and  still  stalks,  with  desolating  tread  over  the 
broad  earth,  defacing  its  green  sod  to  make 
room  for  innumerable  graves — graves  not  alone  of 
the  weak  and  the  wretched,  but  also  of  the  mighty, 
the  glorious,  the  gentle,  the  lovely,  the  widely  and 
keenly  deplored.  And  that  darker  scourge,  despotism, 
the  dominion  of  brute  force  and  blind  selfishness — the 
lordship  of  the  few  for  their  own  luxury  and  aggran 
dizement  over  the  many  whom  they  scorn,  and  sweat, 
and  starve — when  before  has  a  year  been  so  fruitful  as 
now,  of  triumphs  to  the  realm  of  night  ?  Sicily  be 
trayed  and  ruined — Lombardy's  chains  riveted— Sar 
dinia  crushed — Rome,  generous,  brave,  ill-fated  Rome, 
too  ! — she  lies  beneath  the  feet  of  her  perfidious,  per 
jured  foes,  and  in  her  fall  has  dragged  down  the 
republicans  of  France,  adjudged  guilty  of  the  crime  of 
daring  to  resist  the  assassination  of  a  sister  republic. 

But  this  is  not  all,  nor  half.  Germany,  through  her 
vast  extent,  has  passed  over  to  the  camp  of  absolutism 
— her  people  still  think,  but  dare  not  speak,  for  the 
bayonet  is  at  their  throats,  and  democracy  is  once 
more  treason,  since  its  regal  enemies  have  recovered 
from  their  terror,  and  found  their  military  tools  as 
brainless  and  as  heartless  as  ever.  At  last  Hungary 
mounts  the  funeral  pyre  of  freedom  and  the  sacrifice  is 
complete,  for  Venice  must  trail  her  flag  directly  on 
the  tidings  of  Gorgey's  victory.  She  has  stood  out 
nobly,  for  a  noble,  a  priceless  cause — so  has  Hungary 
struggled  nobly  and  nobly  fallen.  For  the  present,  all 
is  over,  save  that  a  few  desperate,  heroic  patriots  will 
yet  sell  their  lives  in  fruitless  casual  conflicts  with  the 
minions  of  despotism.  Nothing  now  remains  but  that 
the  wolves  should  divide  and  devour  their  prey. 

HORACE  ORBELRY. 

NO  EXTENSION  OF  FREEDOM  BY  FORCE. 

'  IR,  our  institutions  are  telling  their  own  story 
by  the   blessings  they  impart  to  us,  and  in 
doctrinating  the  people  everywhere  with  the 
principles  of  freedom  upon  which  they  are 
fcunded.      Ancient  prejudice*  are  yielding  to  th*ir 


mighty  influence.  Heretofore  revered,  and  apparently 
permanent  systems  of  government,  are  falling  beneath 
it.  Our  glorious  mother,  free  as  she  has  ever  com 
paratively  been,  is  getting  to  be  freer.  It  has  blotted 
out  the  corruptions  of  her  political  franchise.  It  has 
broken  her  religious  intolerance.  It  has  greatly  ele 
vated  the  individual  character  of  her  subjects.  It  has 
immeasurably  weakened  the  power  of  her  nobles,  and 
by  weakening  in  one  sense  has  vastly  strengthened  the 
authority  of  her  crown,  by  forcing  it  to  rest  for  all  its 
power  and  glory  upon  the  breasts  of  its  people. 

To  Ireland  too — impulsive  Ireland — the  land  of 
genius,  of  eloquence,  and  of  valor,  it  is  rapidly  carry 
ing  the  blessings  of  a  restored  freedom  and  happiness. 
In  France,  all  of  political  liberty  which  belongs  to  her, 
is  to  be  traced  to  it ;  and  even  now  it  is  to  be  seea 
cheering,  animating,  and  guiding  the  classic  land  of 
Italy,  making  the  very  streets  of  Rome  itself  to  ring 
with  shouts  of  joy  and  gratitude  for  its  presence.  Sir, 
such  a  spirit  suffers  no  inactivity,  and  needs  no  in 
centive.  It  admits  of  neither  enlargement  nor  re 
straint.  Upon  its  own  elastic  and  never-tiring  wing,  k 
is  now  soaring  ever  the  civilized  world,  everywhere 
leaving  its  magic  and  abiding  charm.  I  say,  then,  try 
not,  seek  not  to  aid  it.  Bring  no  physical  force  to 
succor  it.  Such  an  adjunct  would  serve  only  to  corrupt 
and  paralyze  its  efforts.  Leave  it  to  itself,  and,  sooner 
or  later,  man  will  be  free. 

REVERDY  JOHNSON. 

IMPROVEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 

PLL  that  we  ask  is  to  be  equal  with  the  other 
States  of  this  Confederacy  in  freedom,  sover 
eignty,  and  independence.  Grant  us  only 
this,  and  you  will  see  this  whole  country,  like 
the  giant  that  gathered  strength  in  his  wrestle  with 
Hercules,  every  time  he  touched  the  earth,  spring  up 
with  an  elastic  bound  to  new  vigor  and  power,  and  the 
proud  galaxy  that  adorns  your  stars  and  stripes  shine 
forth  with  a  ich  splendor  which  nothing  but  regener 
ated  liberty  cau  give.  Enable  us  to  make  our  roads 
and  canals,  to  carry  on  our  works  of  internal  improve 
ment,  to  manage  our  own  internal  police,  as  our  geninn 
and  necessities  may  require,  and  you  will  soon  witnesn 
the  wonderful  change  which  the  uncontrolled  and 
plastic  power  of  .^eif-government  can  alone  accomplish ; 
the  waste  lands  speedily  sold  and  settled,  the  desert 
made  to  smile  and  blossom  as  a  garden,  the  country 
improved  and  cultivated  to  its  utmost  limits,  industry 
stimulated,  labor  rewarded  with  rich  returns,  tht 
people  prosperous  and  bappy,  and  the  country  rich 
with  every  blessing. 

What  a  guarantee  to  the  perpetuity  and  stability  of 
the  government,  living  in  the  hearts  of  its  own  people, 
and  borrowing  its  own  lustre  and  glory  from  theii 
proud,  prosperous,  and  independent  condition.  And, 
permit  me  to  tell  you,  that  deep  and  firm  as  may  bft 
the  foundations  of  our  country,  still  deeper  will  they 
b*5  »adc  by  the  policy  which  is  before  you,  Let  mfr 


662 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


beseech  you  to  cast  aside  your  prejudices,  to  throw  off 
from  your  eyes  the  scales  which  have  so  long  blinded 
you,  and  to  come  up  to  this  mighty  and  momentous 
question  with  nothing  but  the  holy  impulses  of 
patriotism  directing  your  heart ;  and  you  will  see  in 
scribed  upon  our  banners  Truth  and  Justice,  as  all  for 
which  we  would  appeal  to  you,  or  ask  at  your  hands. 
Our  strength  will  be  yours.  The  glory  that  may  sur 
round  us  will  radiate  its  effulgence  to  every  portion  of 
our  common  country,  and  the  same  destiny  that  awaits 
us  and  our  children  will  be  indissolubly  connected  with 
i  /our  own ;  and  should  any  great  event  in  the  changes 
lof  life  and  the  vicissitudes  of  the  affairs  of  nations 
ever  take  place,  to  pull  up  the  deep  foundations  of  our 
government,  and  tear  down  our  noble  edifice,  let  me 
tell  you  that  in  the  general  wreck  of  the  liberties  of 
the  country,  the  last  spark  will  be  found  nickering  on 
the  plains  of  the  West  in  the  domiciles  of  the  humble 
tillers  of  the  earth. 

A.   O.    HARRISON. 

INVIDIOUS   DISTINCTIONS. 

'IR,  as  a  Southern  man,  I  represent  equally 
rent,  capital,  and  wages,  which  are  confounded 
in  our  estates ;  and  I  protest  against  attempts 
to  array,  without  cause,  without  a  color  of 
pretext  or  plausibility,  the  different  classes  of  society 
against  each  other,  as  if,  in  such  a  country  as  tL*?, 
there  could  be  any  natural  hostility  or  any  real  distinc 
tion  between  them — a  country  in  which  all  the  rich, 
with  hardly  an  exception,  have  been  poor,  and  all  the 
poor  may  one  day  be  rich — a  country  in  which  banking 
institutions  have  been  of  immense  service,  precisely 
because  they  have  been  most  needed  by  a  people  who 
had  all  their  fortunes  to  make  by  good  character  and 
industrious  habits. 

Look  at  that  remarkable  picture — remarkable  not  as 
a  work  of  art,  but  as  a  monument  of  history — which 
you  see  in  passing  through  the  rotunda.  Two  out  of 
five  of  that  immortal  committee  were  mechanics,  and 
such  men  !  In  the  name  of  God,  sir,  why  should  any 
one  study  to  pervert  the  natural  good  sense  and  kindly 
feelings  of  this  moral  and  noble  people — to  infuse  into 
their  minds  a  sullen  envy  towards  one  another,  instead 
of  that  generous  emulation  which  everything  in  their 
rituation  is  fitted  to  inspire — to  breathe  into  them  the 
•pint  of  Cain,  muttering  deep  curses  and  meditating 
desperate  revenge  against  his  brother,  because  the 
«moke  of  his  sacrifice  has  ascended  to  heaven  before 
his  own !  And  do  not  they  who  treat  our  industrious 
classes  as  if  they  were  in  the  same  debased  and  wretched 
condition  as  the  poor  of  Europe,  insult  them  by  the 
comparison  ? 

Why,  sir,  you  do  not  know  what  poverty  is.  We 
have  no  poor  in  this  country,  in  the  sense  in  which 
that  word  is  used  abroad.  Every  laborer,  even  the 
moist  humble,  in  the  United  States  soon  becomes  a 
capitalist,  and  even,  if  he  choose,  a  proprietor  of  land ; 
jfeff  the  West,  with  all  its  boundless  fertility,  is  open  to 


him.  How  can  any  one  dare  to  compare  the  mechanics 
of  this  land  (whose  inferiority,  in  any  substantial  par 
ticular,  in  intelligence,  in  virtue,  in  wealth,  to  the 
other  classes  of  our  society,  I  have  yet  to  learn)  with  that 
race  of  outcasts,  of  which  so  terrific  a  picture  is  pre 
sented  by  recent  writers — the  poor  of  Europe  ?  a  race, 
among  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  whom  famine  and 
pestilence  may  be  said  to  dwell  continually ;  many  of 
whom  are  without  morals,  without  education,  without 
a  country,  without  a  God  !  and  may  be  said  to  know 
society  only  by  the  terrors  of  its  penal  code,  and  to  live 
in  perpetual  war  with  it.  Poor  bondmen !  mocked 
with  the  name  of  liberty,  that  they  may  be  sometimes 
tempted  to  break  their  chains,  in  order  that,  after  a 
few  days  of  starvation  in  idleness  and  dissipation,  they 
may  be  driven  back  to  their  prison  house  to  take  them 
up  again,  heavier  and  more  galling  than  before; 
severed,  as  it  has  been  touchingly  expressed,  from 
nature,  from  the  common  air,  and  the  light  of  the  sun ; 
knowing  only  by  hearsay  that  the  fields  are  green,  that 
the  birds  sing,  and  that  there  is  a  perfume  in  flowers. 
And  is  it  with  a  race  whom  the  perverse  institutions 
of  Europe  have  thus  degraded  beneath  the  condition 
of  humanity,  that  the  advocates,  the  patrons,  the  pro 
tectors  of  our  working-men,  presume  to  compare  them  ? 
Sir,  it  is  to  treat  them  with  a  scorn  at  which  their 
spirit  should  revolt,  and  does  revolt. 

HUGH  S.  LEGAR*, 

THE  "MAYFLOWER." 

f  I  VBTHINKS,  I  see  it  now,  that  one  solitary, 
1  J*  I  adventurous  vessel,  the  "Mayflower"  of  a 
SA  JLZ>  forlorn  hope,  freighted  with  the  prospects 
of  a  future  state,  and  bound  across  the  un 
known  sea.  I  behold  it  pursuing,  with  a  thousand 
misgivings,  the  uncertain,  the  tedious  voyage.  Suns 
rise  and  set,  and  weeks  and  months  pass,  and  winter 
surprises  them  on  the  deep,  but  brings  them  not  the 
sight  of  the  wished-for  shore.  I  see  them  now, 
scantily  supplied  with  provisions,  crowded  almost  to 
suffocation  in  their  ill-stored  prison,  delayed  by  calms, 
pursuing  a  circuitous  route ;  and  now,  driven  in  fury 
before  the  raging  tempest,  in  their  scarcely  seaworthy 
vessel.  The  awful  voice  of  the  storm  howls  through 
the  rigging.  The  laboring  masts  seem  straining  from 
their  base ;  the  dismal  sound  of  pumps  is  heard  ;  the 
ship  leaps,  as  it  were,  madly  from  billow  to  billow ;  the 
ocean  breaks,  and  settles  with  ingulfing  floods  over  the 
floating  deck,  and  beats  with  deadening  weight  against 
the  staggering  vessel 

I  see  them  escape  from  these  perils,  pursuing  their 
all  but  desperate  undertaking,  and  landed  at  last,  after 
a  five  months'  passage,  on  the  ioe-clad  rocks  of  Plym 
outh,  weak  and  exhausted  from  the  voyage,  poorly 
armed,  scantily  provisioned,  depending  on  the  charity 
of  their  ship-master  for  a  draught  of  beer  on  board, 
drinking  nothing  but  water  on  shore,  without  shelter, 
without  means,  surrounded  by  hostile  tribes. 

Shut  now  the  volume  of  history,  and  tell  me,  on  any 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


principle  of  human  probability,  what  shall  be  the  fate 
of  this  handful  of  adventurers?  Tell  me,  men  of 
military  science,  in  how  many  months  they  were  all 
swept  off  by  the  thirty  savage  tribes  enumerated 
within  the  boundaries  of  New  England?  Tell  me, 
politician,  how  long  did  this  shadow  of  a  colony,  on 
which  your  conventions  and  treaties  had  not  smiled, 
languish  on  the  distant  coast?  Student  of  history, 
compare  for  me  the  baffled  projects,  the  deserted 
settlements,  the  abandoned  adventures  of  other  times, 
and  find  the  parallel  of  this !  Was  it  the  winter  storm, 
beating  upon  the  houseless  heads  of  women  and 
children?  was  it  hard  labor  and  spare  meals?  was  it 
disease?  was  it  the  tomahawk?  was  it  the  deep 
malady  of  a  blighted  hope,  a  ruined  enterprise,  and  a 
broken  heart,  aching  in  its  last  moments  at  the  recol 
lections  of  the  loved  and  left,  beyond  the  sea  ?  was  it 
some  or  all  of  them  united  that  hurried  this  forsaken 
company  to  their  melancholy  fate  ?  And  is  it  pos 
sible,  that  neither  of  these  causes,  that  all  combined, 
were  able  to  blast  this  bud  of  hope  !  Is  it  possible, 
that  from  a  beginning  so  feeble,  so  frail,  so  worthy,  not 
so  touch  of  admiration  as  of  pity,  there  has  gone  forth 
a  progress  so  steady,  a  growth  so  wonderful,  a  reality 
H>  important,  a  promise  yet  to  be  fulfilled  so  glorious  ! 

HOWARD   KVBKJETT. 

GENOA    IN    HER    BEAUTY. 

]T  me  bring  to  your  mind  Genoa,  called  the 
Superb  City  of  Palaces,  dear  to  the  memory 
of  American  childhood  as  the  birthplace  of 
Christopher  Columbus,  and  one  of  the  spots 
first  enlightened  by  the  morning  beams  of  civilization, 
whose  merchants  were  princes,  and  whose  rich  argosies, 
in  those  early  days,  introduced  to  Europe  the  choicest 
products  of  the  East,  the  linen  of  Egypt,  the  spices 
of  Arabia,  and  the  silks  of  Samarcand.  She  still  sits 
in  queenly  pride,  as  she  sat  then — her  mural  crown 
•tudded  with  towers — her  churches  rich  with  marble 
floors  and  rarest  pictures — her  palaces  of  ancient  doges 
and  admirals  yet  spared  by  the  hand  of  time — her 
dose  streets,  thronged  by  one  hundred  thousand  in 
habitants — at  the  foot  of  the  maritime  Alps,  as  they 
descend  to  the  blue  and  tideless  waters  of  the 
Mediterranean  Sea — leaning  with  her  back  against 
their  strong  mountain-sides,  overshadowed  by  the 
foliage  of  the  fig-tree  and  the  olive,  while  the  orange 
and  lemon  fill  with  their  perfume  the  air  where  reigns 
perpetual  spring.  Who  can  contemplate  such  a  city 
without  delight? 

CHART.KS  STTMNKB. 


EFFECT  OF  STEADINESS  OF  PURSUIT. 

YTTIUS  most  interesting  instance  of  the  efficacy  of 

\  I  L    this  steadiness  of  pursuit  was  given  by  the 

JL        city  of  Athens  ;  the  most  interesting,  because 

the  object  was  most  so.     From  the  earliest 

tunes,  Atheua  aspired  to  literature  and  the  elegant 


arts.  By  a  steady  pursuit  of  the  policy  adopted  with 
a  view  to  this  end,  the  city  of  Athens  became  such  a 
monument  of  the  arts,  that  even  her  imperfect  and 
dilapidated  remains  are  at  this  day  the  wonder  of  the 
world.  What  splendors,  then,  must  she  have  emitted 
in  the  day  of  her  splendor !  When,  in  her  freshness, 
she  met  the  morning  sun,  and  reflected  back  a  rival 
glory !  When  she  was  full  of  the  masterpieces  of 
genius  in  every  art — creations,  that  were  said  to  have 
exalted  in  the  human  mind  the  ideas  of  the  divinities 
themselves !  The  fervid  eloquence  of  Demosthenes 
failed,  unequal  to  the  task,  to  do  justice  to  those  im 
mortal  splendors,  when  employed,  as  it  occasionally 
was,  for  that  purpose,  in  his  addresses  to  the  Athenian 
people.  It  was  by  the  steady  pursuit  of  the  same 
policy,  that  their  literary  works  of  every  kind  came  to 
be  equally  the  masterpieces  of  human  genius  j  and  be 
ing  more  diffused,  and  less  impaired  by  the  injuries 
of  time,  than  the  other  monuments  of  the  arts,  they 
were,  and  still  are,  the  wonder  of  the  world,  that, 
after  it,  the  Athenians  themselves  could  never  surpass 
them ;  whilst  others  have  never  been  able  to  equal 
them. 

Now,  what  has  been  the  effect?  Literature  and 
arts  have  gathered  around  that  city  a  charm  that  was, 
and  is,  felt  by  all  mankind ;  which  no  distance,  no  time, 
can  dispel.  No  scholar,  of  any  age  or  clime,  but  has 
made  (in  fancy,  at  least)  a  pilgrimage  to  ita  shore; 
there  to  call  around  him  the  shades  of  the  mighty 
dead,  whose  minds  still  live,  and  delight  and  astonish 
in  their  immortal  works.  It  is  emphatically  the  city 
of  the  heart,  where  the  affections  delight  to  dwell ;  the 
green  spot  of  the  earth  where  the  fancy  loves  to 
linger.  How  poor  is  brute  force — even  the  most 
magnificent,  even  the  Roman — compared  to  the  empire 
of  mind,  to  which  all  other  minds  pay  their  voluntary 
homage  !  Her  literature  and  her  arts  acquired  to 
Athens  this  empire,  which  her  remains  still  preserve, 
and  always  will  preserve.  In  contemplating  the 
phenomenon  of  her  literary  achievements,  a  great  and 
profound  writer  could  not  forbear  saying,  "that  it 
seemed  a  providential  event,  in  honor  of  human  nature, 
to  show  to  what  perfection  the  species  might  ascend." 
Call  it  providential  if  you  please — as  every  event  is,  in 
some  sense,  providential — but  it  was  the  effect  of 
artificial  causes,  as  much  so  as  the  military  power  of 
the  Romans ;  it  was  the  effect  of  a  policy,  early 
ad^ted,  and  always  after  steadily  pursued. 

ASHER  BOBBIHS. 

INDEMNITY    TO    THE    NIAGARA 
SUFFERERS. 

T  @ET  me  say  to  the  gentleman,  that  in  Buffalo,  he 

V      might,  on  one  day,  have  found  a  family  well 

JLoA    housed,  well  clothed,  surrounded  with  every 

comfort  of  life,  who,  from  its  hospitality  in 

throwing  open  its  do«rs  to  the  American  soldier,  was 

the  next  day  houseless  and  homeless,  destitute  of  all 

things ;  if  he  had  ch»«ced,  eight  months  afterwards,  to 


664 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


be  wandering  on  the  flats  of  the  Ohio,  he  might  there 
see  a  family  scarcely  covered  by  a  wretched  house,  in 
squalid  poverty,  one  day  shivering  with  ague,  and  the 
next  consumed  with  raging  fever ;  if  his  compassion 
should  lead  him  to  enter  and  inquire  into  their  situa 
tion,  he  would  hear  them  say,  our  father  lived  in 
plenty  and  comfort,  on  the  Niagara  frontier — he  saw 
the  American  soldiery  ready  to  perish — he  opened  his 
door  to  take  them  in — and  for  that  we  are  here,  ruined 
and  in  wretchedness.  Sir,  the  sufferings  of  the 
French,  on  their  retreat  from  Moscow,  present  not 
too  strong  a  picture  to  convey  a  just  idea  of  what  was 
endured  while  the  whole  country  on  the  Lakes  was 
converted  into  one  wide  cantonment.  Had  the  gentle 
man  seen  an  American  regiment  on  that  frontier 
drawn  up  on  a  frosty  morning,  and  supporting  arms 
while  their  limbs  were  chilled  to  the  bone,  standing,  in 
their  cotton  dress,  in  snow  two  and  three  feet  deep  ; 
had  he  seen  these  claimants  opening  their  houses  to 
receive  men  in  immediate  danger  of  perishing  (many 
of  them  did  perish),  and  afterwards  turned  out  of 
house  and  home  for  doing  it,  he  would  not,  he  could 
not,  deny  that  something  ought  to  be  done  for  their 
relief. 

The  gentleman  has  insinuated,  that  the  inhabitants 
of  the  frontier  are  actuated  wholly  by  a  principle  of 
selfishness ;  that,  unless  stimulated  by  a  sense  of 
interest,  they  will  do  nothing  in  their  own  defence, 
and  will  surrender  up  their  property  an  easy  prey  to 
the  enemy.  But,  sir,  that  gentleman  surely  did  not 
consider  the  feelings  of  the  American  people  when  he 
advanced  such  a  sentiment.  If  nothing  had  operated 
on  their  minds  but  selfishness,  the  army  of  the  frontier 
oould  not  have  been  kept  together  a  single  day.  No, 
air,  not  a  single  day.  There  were  our  soldiers,  lying 
naked  and  perishing  on  one  bank  of  the  Niagara  river, 
while,  directly  opposite,  they  could  see  the  British 
sentry  parading  backward  and  forward  in  a  good  com 
fortable  watchcoat,  and  hear  him  cry  out,  cheerfully, 
" all's  well."  They  had  only  to  cross  en  masse  to  the 
British  side,  to  exchange  a  lodging  on  the  ground,  in 
their  cotton  that  admitted  the  rain,  and,  when  the  rain 
was  over,  froze  upon  their  bodies,  for  warm  clothing 
and  good  quarters.  Had  selfishness  been  the  ruling 
principle,  where  would  have  been  your  militia? 
Where  would  have  been  your  regulars  ? — at  their  own 
homes,  or  over  the  British  lines? 

JOSEPH  VAXGK 

BULOGIUM   ON   SOUTH   CAROLINA. 

Tk«  reader  will  feel  a  special  interest  in  this  and  the  following  selec 
tion  from  the  famous  debate  between  Hayne  and  Webster.  Perhaps  no 
•neb.  intellectual  gladiators  ever  met  before  or  since  on  the  floor  of  the 
United  States  Senate. 

I  GALL  upon  any  one  who  hears  me,  to  bear  wit 
ness  that  this  controversy  is  not  of  my  seeking. 
The  Senate  will  do  me  the  justice  to  remember, 
that  at  the  time  this  unprovoked  and  uncalled-for 
attack  was  made  upon  the  South,  not  one  word  bad 


been  uttered  by  me  in  disparagement  of  New  England, 
nor  had  I  made  the  most  distant  allucion  either  to  the 
Senator  from  Massachusetts,  or  the  State  he  represents > 
But,  sir,  that  gentleman  has  thought  proper,  for 
reasons  best  known  to  himself,  to  strike  the  South, 
through  one,  the  most  unworthy  of  her  servants.  He 
has  crossed  the  border,  he  has  invaded  the  State  of 
South  Carolina,  is  making  war  upon  her  citizens,  and 
endeavoring  to  overthrow  her  principles  and  her 
institutions.  Sir,  when  the  gentleman  provokes  me  tc 
such  a  conflict,  I  meet  him  at  the  threshold,  I  will 
struggle  while  I  have  life,  for  our  altars  and  our  fire 
sides  ;  and  if  God  give  me  strength,  will  drive  back  the 
invader  discomfited.  Nor  shall  I  stop  there.  If  the 
gentleman  provoke  war,  he  shall  have  war.  Sir,  I 
will  not  stop  at  the  border ;  I  will  carry  the  war  into 
the  enemies'  territory  and  not  consent  to  lay  down  my 
arms,  until  I  shall  have  obtained  "  indemnity  for  the 
past,  and  security  for  the  future." 

It  is  with  unfeigned  reluctance  that  I  enter  upon  the 
performance  of  this  part  of  my  duty — I  shrink  almost 
instinctively  from  a  course,  however  necessary,  which 
may  have  a  tendency  to  excite  sectional  feelings  and 
sectional  jealousies.  But,  sir,  the  task  has  been  forced 
upon  me,  and  I  proceed  right  onward  to  a  performance 
of  my  duty.  Be  the  consequences  what  they  may,  the 
responsibility  is  with  those  who  have  imposed  upon 
me  this  necessity.  The  Senator  from  Massachusetts 
has  thought  proper  to  cast  the  first  stone,  and  if  he 
shall  find,  according  to  the  homely  adage,  that  "he 
lives  in  a  glass  house  " — on  his  head  be  the  conse 
quences.  The  gentleman  has  made  a  great  flourish 
about  his  fidelity  to  Massachusetts.  I  shall  make  no 
professions  of  zeal,  for  the  interests  and  honor  of 
South  Carolina — of  that  my  constituents  shall  judge. 
If  there  be  one  State  in  the  Union  (and  I  say  it  not  in 
any  boastful  spirit),  that  may  challenge  comparison 
with  any  other  for  a  uniform,  zealous,  ardent  and 
uncalculating  devotion  to  the  Union,  that  State  ic 
South  Carolina.  Sir,  from  the  very  commencement 
of  the  Revolution  up  to  this  hour,  there  is  no  sacrifice, 
however  great,  she  has  not  cheerfully  made ;  no  service 
she  has  ever  hesitated  to  perform.  She  has  adhered 
to  you  in  your  prosperity,  but  in  your  adversity  she 
has  clung  to  you  with  more  than  filial  affection.  No 
matter  what  was  the  condition  of  her  domestic  affairs, 
though  deprived  of  her  resources,  divided  by  parties, 
or  surrounded  by  difficulties,  the  call  of  the  country 
has  been  to  her  as  the  voice  of  God.  Domestic  dis 
cord  has  ceased  at  the  sound — every  man  became  at 
once  reconciled  to  his  brethren,  and  the  sons  of  Caro 
lina  were  all  seen  crowding  together  to  the  temple, 
bringing  their  gifts  to  the  altar  of  their  common 
country. 

What,  sir,  was  the  conduct  of  the  South  during  the 
Revolution  ?  Sir,  I  honor  New  England  for  her  con 
duct  in  that  glorious  struggle  :  but  great  as  is  the 
praise  which  belongs  to  her,  I  think  at  least  equal 
honor  is  due  to  the  South.  They  espoused  the  cause 

of  their  brethren  with  generous  real  which  did  not 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


665 


gaffer  them  to  stop  to  calculate  their  interest  in  the 
dispute.  Favorites  of  the  mother  country,  possessed 
of  neither  ships  nor  seamen  to  create  commercial  rival- 
ship  ;  they  might  have  found  in  their  situation  a  guar 
anty  that  their  trade  would  be  forever  fostered  and  pro 
tected  by  Great  Britain.  But  trampling  on  all  considera 
tions,  either  of  interest  or  of  safety,  they  rushed  into  the 
conflict,  and  fighting  for  principle,  periled  all  in  the 
gacred  cause  of  freedom.  Never  was  there  exhibited 
in  the  history  of  the  world  higher  examples  of  noble 
daring,  dreadful  suffering,  and  heroic  endurance,  than 
by  the  Whigs  of  Carolina  during  that  revolution. 
The  whole  State,  from  the  mountain  to  the  sea,  was 
overrun  by  an  overwhelming  force  of  the  enemy.  The 
fruits  of  industry  perished  on  the  spot  where  they 
were  produced,  or  were  consumed  by  the  foe.  The 
"plains  of  Carolina"  drank  up  the  most  precious 
Wood  of  her  citizens  —  black  and  smoking  ruins  marked 
the  places  which  had  been  the  habitations  of  her 
children  !  Driven  from  their  homes  into  the  gloomy 
and  almost  impenetrable  swamps,  even  there  the  spirit 
of  liberty  survived,  and  South  Carolina,  sustained  by 
the  example  of  her  Sumters  and  her  Marions,  proved 
by  her  conduct,  that  though  her  soil  might  be  over 
ran,  the  spirit  of  her  people  was  invincible. 

ROBERT  Y.    HAYNE. 

SOUTH   CAROLINA  AND  MASSACHUSETTS. 


eulogium  pronounced  on  the  character  of 
the  State  of  South  Carolina  by  the  honorable 
gentleman,  for  her  revolutionary  and  other 
merits,  meets  my  hearty  concurrence.  I  shall 
not  acknowledge  that  the  honorable  member  goes  be 
fore  me  in  regard  for  whatever  of  distinguished  talent, 
or  distinguished  character,  South  Carolina  has  pro 
duced.  I  claim  part  of  the  honor  ;  I  partake  in  the 
pride  of  her  great  names.  I  claim  them  for  country 
men,  one  and  all.  The  Laurenses,  Rutledges,  the 
Pinckneys,  the  Sumters,  the  Marions  —  Americans 
all  —  whose  fame  is  no  more  to  be  hemmed  in  by  state 
lines,  than  their  talents  and  patriotism  were  capable 
of  being  circumscribed  within  the  same  narrow  limits. 
In  their  day  and  generation,  they  served  and  honored 
the  country,  and  the  whole  country,  and  their  renown 
is  of  the  treasures  of  the  whole  country.  Him  whose 
honored  name  the  gentleman  bears  himself—  does  he 
suppose  me  less  capable  of  gratitude  for  his  patriotism, 
or  sympathy  for  his  sufferings,  than  if  his  eyes  had 
first  opened  upon  the  light  in  Massachusetts  instead 
of  South  Carolina?  Sir,  does  he  suppose  it  in  his 
power  to  exhibit  a  Carolina  name  so  bright  as  to  pro 
duce  envy  in  my  bosom  ?  No,  sir  —  increased  gratifica 
tion  and  delight,  rather.  Sir,  I  thank  God,  that  if  I 
am  gifted  with  little  of  the  spirit  which  is  said  to  be 
able  to  raise  mortals  to  the  skies,  I  have  yet  none,  as  I 
trust,  of  that  other  spirit  which  would  drag  angels 
down. 

When  I  shall  be  found,  sir,  in  my  place  here  in  the 
Senate,  or  elsewhere,  to  tneer  at  public  merit,  because 


it  happened  to  spring  up  beyond  the  limits  of  my  ow* 
State  and  neighborhood  ;  when  I  refuse,  for  any  such 
cause,  or  for  any  cause,  the  homage  due  to  American 
talent,  to  elevated  patriotism,  to  sincere  devotion  to 
liberty  and  the  country ;  or  if  I  see  an  uncommon 
endowment  of  heaven — if  I  see  extraordinary  capacity 
and  virtue  in  any  son  of  the  South — and  if,  moved  by 
local  prejudice,  or  gangrened  by  State  jealousy,  I  get 
up  here  to  abate  the  tithe  of  a  hair  from  his  just  char 
acter  and  just  fame,  may  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof 
of  my  mouth  ! 

I  shall  enter  on  no  encomium  upon  Massachusetts — 
she  needs  none.  There  she  is — behold  her  and  judge 
for  yourselves.  There  is  her  history — the  world  knows 
it  by  heart.  The  past,  at  least,  is  secure.  There  is 
Boston,  and  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Bunker's 
Hill ;  and  there  they  will  remain  forever.  The  bones 
of  her  sons,  fallen  in  the  great  struggle  for  indepen 
dence,  now  lie  mingled  with  the  soil  of  every  State, 
from  New  England  to  Georgia ;  and  there  they  will  lie 
forever. 

And,  sir,  where  American  liberty  raised  its  first 
voice,  and  where  its  youth  was  nurtured  and  sustained, 
there  it  still  lives,  in  the  strength  of  its  manhood,  and 
full  of  its  original  spirit.  If  discord  and  disunion  shall 
wound  it — if  party  strife  and  blind  ambition  shall  hawk 
at  and  tear  it ;  if  folly  and  madness,  if  uneasiness, 
under  salutary  and  necessary  restraint,  shall  succeed  to 
separate  it  from  that  Union,  by  which  alone  its  ex 
istence  is  made  sure,  it  will  stand  in  the  end,  by  the 
side  of  the  cradle  in  which  its  infancy  was  rocked ;  it 
will  stretch  forth  its  arm  with  whatever  of  vigor  it  may 
still  retain,  on  the  friends  who  gather  around  it ;  an*9 
it  will  fall  at  last,  if  fall  it  must,  amidst  the  proudest 
monuments  of  its  own  glory,  and  on  the  very  spot  of 
its  origin. 

DANIEL  WEBSTBH. 

REMEMBRANCE  OP  WRONGS. 

JE  are  above  all  this.  Let  the  highland 
clansman,  half  naked,  half  civilized,  half 
blinded  by  the  peat  smoke  of  his  cavern, 
have  his  hereditary  enemy  and  his  heredi 
tary  enmity,  and  keep  the  keen,  deep,  and  poisonous 
hatred,  set  on  fire  of  hell,  alive  if  he  can ;  let  the 
North  American  Indian  have  his,  and  hand  it  down 
from  father  to  son,  by  heaven  knows  what  symbols  of 
alligators,  and  rattlesnakes,  and  war-clubs  smeared 
with  vermilion  and  entwined  with  scarlet ;  let  such 
a  country  as  Poland,  cloven  to  the  earth,  the  armed 
heel  on  the  radiant  forehead,  her  body  dead,  her  soul 
incapable  to  die,  let  her  "  remember  the  wrongs  of 
days  long  past ; "  let  the  lost  and  wandering  tribes  of 
Israel  remember  theirs — the  manliness  or  sympathy 
of  the  world  may  allow  or  pardon  this  to  them  ;  but 
shall  America,  young,  free,  prosperous,  just  setting 
out  on  the  highway  of  heaven,  "  decorating  and  cheer 
ing  the  elevated  sphere  she  just  begins  to  move  in, 
glittering  like  the  morning  star,  full  of  life  and  joy," 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


shall  she  be  supposed  to  be  polluting  and  corroding 
her  noble  and  happy  heart,  by  moping  over  old  stories 
of  stamp  act,  and  tea  tax,  and  the  firing  of  the 
Leopard  upon  the  Chesapeake  in  a  time  of  peace? 
No,  sir ;  no,  sir ;  a  thousand  times  no  ! 

Why,  I  protest,  I  thought  all  that  had  been  settled. 
I  thought  two  wars  had  settled  it  all.  What  else  was 
so  much  good  blood  shed  for  on  so  many  more  than 
classical  fields  of  revolutionary  glory  ?  For  what  was 
ao  much  good  blood  more  lately  shed  at  Lundy'  s  Lane,  at 
Fort  Erie,  before  and  behind  the  lines  at  New  Orleans, 
on  the  deck  of  the  Constitution,  on  the  deck  of  the 
Java,  on  the  lakes,  on  the  sea,  but  to  settle  exactly 
these  "  wrongs  of  past  days  ? ' '  And  have  we  come  back 
Bulky  and  sullen  from  the  very  field  of  honor  ?  For 
my  country  I  deny  it.  We  are  born  to  happier  feelings. 
We  look  on  England  as  we  look  on  France.  We  look 
on  them,  from  our  new  world,  not  unrenowned,  yet  a 
new  world  still ;  and  the  blood  mounts  to  our  cheeks ; 
our  eyes  swim  ;  our  voices  are  stifled  with  emulousness 
of  so  much  glory ;  their  trophies  will  not  let  us  sleep  ; 
but  there  is  no  hatred  at  all ;  no  hatred  ;  all  for  honor, 
nothing  for  hate!  We  have — we  can  have — no  bar 
barian  memory  of  wrongs,  for  which  brave  men  have 
made  the  last  expiation  to  the  brave. 

RUFtTS  CHOATK. 

LAST   CHARGE   OF    NEY. 

E  whole  continental  struggle  exhibited  no 
sublimer  spectacle  than  this  last  effort  of 
Napoleon  to  save  his  sinking  empire.  Europe 
had  been  put  upon  the  plains  of  Waterloo  to 
be  battled  for.  The  greatest  military  energy  and  skill 
the  world  possessed  had  been  tasked  to  the  utmost 
during  the  day.  Thrones  were  tottering  on  the  en 
sanguined  field,  and  the  shadows  of  fugitive  kings 
flitted  through  the  smoke  of  battle.  Bonaparte's  star 
trembled  in  the  zenith — now  blazing  out  in  its  ancient 
splendor,  now  suddenly  paling  before  his  anxious  eye. 
At  length,  when  the  Prussians  appeared  on  the  field, 
he  resolved  to  stake  Europe  on  one  bold  throw.  He 
committed  himself  and  France  to  Ney,  and  saw  his 
Empire  rest  on  a  single  chance. 

Ney  felt  the  pressure  of  the  immense  responsibility 
on  his  brave  heart,  and  resolved  not  to  prove  unworthy 
of  the  great  trust  committed  to  his  care.  Nothing 
could  be  more  imposing  than  the  movement  of  that 
grand  column  to  the  assault.  That  guard  had  never  yet 
recoiled  before  a  human  foe,  and  the  allied  forces  be 
held  with  awe  its  firm  and  terrible  advance  to  the 
final  charge.  For  a  moment  the  batteries  stopped 
playing,  and  the  firing  ceased  along  the  British  lines, 
as  without  the  beating  of  a  drum,  or  the  blast  of  a 
bugle,  to  cheer  their  steady  courage,  they  moved  in 
dead  silence  over  the  plain.  The  next  moment  the 
artillery  opened,  and  the  head  of  that  gallant  column 
seemed  to  sink  into  the  earth.  Hank  after  rank  went 
down,  yet  they  neither  stopped  nor  faltered.  Dissolv 
ing  squadrons,  and  whole  battalions  disappearing  one 


after  another  in  the  destructive  fire,  affected  no* 
their  steady  courage.  The  ranks  closed  up  as  before, 
and  each  treading  over  his  fallen  comrade,  pressed 
firmly  on.  The  horse  that  Ney  rode  fell  under  him, 
and  he  had  scarcely  mounted  another  before  it  also 
sunk  to  the  earth.  Again  and  again  did  that  un 
flinching  man  feel  his  steed  sink  down,  till  five  had 
been  shot  under  him. 

Then,  with  his  uniform  riddled  with  bullets,  and  his 
face  singed  and  blackened  with  powder,  he  marched 
on  foot  with  drawn  sabre,  at  the  head  of  his  men.  Jn 
vain  did  the  artillery  hurl  its  storm  of  fire  and  lead 
into  that  living  mass.  Up  to  the  very  muzzles  they 
pressed,  and  driving  the  artillerymen  from  their  own 
pieces,  pushed  on  through  the  English  lines.  But  at 
that  moment  a  file  of  soldiers  who  had  lain  flat  on  the 
ground,  behind  a  low  ridge  of  earth,  suddenly  rose  and 
poured  a  volley  in  their  very  faces.  Another  and 
another  followed  till  one  broad  sheet  of  flame  rolled 
on  their  bosoms,  and  in  such  a  fierce  and  unexpected 
flow,  that  human  courage  could  not  withstand  it 
They  reeled,  shook,  staggered  back,  then  turned  and 
fled.  Ney  was  borne  back  in  the  refluent  tide,  and 
hurried  over  the  field.  But  for  the  crowd  of  fugitives 
that  forced  him  on,  he  would  have  stood  alone,  and 
fallen  in  his  footsteps.  As  it  was,  disdaining  to  fly, 
though  the  whole  army  was  flying,  he  formed  his  meu 
into  two  immense  squares,  and  endeavored  to  stem  the 
terrific  current,  and  would  have  done  so,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  thirty  thousand  fresh  Prussians  that 
pressed  on  his  exhausted  ranks.  For  a  long  time 
these  squares  stood  and  let  the  artillery  plough  through 
them. 

But  the  fate  of  Napoleon  was  writ,  and  though  Ney 
doubtless  did  what  no  other  man  in  the  army  could 
have  done,  the  decree  could  not  be  reversed.  The  star 
that  had  blazed  so  brightly  over  the  world  went  down 
in  blood,  and  the  "bravest  of  the  brave  "  had  fought 
his  last  battle.  It  was  worthy  of  his  great  name,  and 
the  charge  of  the  Old  Guard  at  Waterloo,  with  him 
at  their  head,  will  be  pointed  to  by  remotest  genera 
tions  with  a  shudder. 

J.  T.  HKADLKY. 


JJZ' 


INVECTIVE  OF     JUNGARY. 

HE  spirit  of  popular  freedom  in  Europe, 
during  the  late  struggle  of  Hungary,  asked 
us  a  solemn  question.  The  Executive  was 
called  upon  to  say  yea  or  nay.  Hungary 
listened  with  anxious  hopes.  She  was  impatient  for 
the  response,  and  the  eloquence  of  truth,  of  a  righteoin 
cause,  burst  forth  in  every  word  she  uttered.  But  it 
has  been  all  in  vain,  and  now,  in  tones  of  eloquent  and 
burning  reproof,  she  thus  turns  to  her  Kussian  invader. 
You  seek  to  encompass  the  earth  with  your  ambition 
The  world  exclaims  against  you,  and  reproachfully 
calls  you  sovereign  of  a  barbarian  horde.  Asia  speaks 
out :  Your  neighborhood  has  only  served  to  bring 
upon  my  borders  bloody  and  protracted  wars. 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


Gb'T 


Persia :  For  a  century  yon  have  desolated  my  remote 
frontiers  and  provinces,  with  the  horrors  of  a  cruel 
warfare.  Circassia  asks :  When  will  you  cease  to 
massacre  my  people,  and  grant  me  that  liberty  and 
independence  which  my  victorious  arms  deserve? 
England  reproves :  I  see  you  in  the  swift-coming 
future  advancing  to  the  banks  of  the  Indus,  and 
about  to  bring  war  upon  my  dominions  in  the  East. 
Turkey  adds  :  You  have  converted  my  cities  into  forts, 
and  for  centuries  obliged  me  to  watch  your  threatened 
descent  upon  my  fair  capital.  France  sends  her 
legions  to  Italy,  as  she  sees  her  influence  about  to  be 
felt  upon  the  banks  of  the  Tiber.  Poland  yet  cries 
beneath  her  fetters  :  When  will  you  unbar  the  prison- 
door  ?  Europe  chides  :  Upon  the  partition  of  Poland 
you  claimed  the  lion's  share,  and  claimed  it  too  at  the 
peace  of  Vienna. 

And  now,  you  offer  Siberia  in  exchange  for  fair 
Hungary.  Yet,  I  was  at  peace  with  you.  I  sought 
freedom  from  Austrian  tyranny,  and  you  interfered  to 
crown  my  misfortunes  with  your  cruelties.  You 
warred  against  my  national  existence.  You  drove  my 
once  happy  people  to  flee  for  refuge  to  the  mountains ; 
to  abandon  their  hearths ;  to  forsake  their  altars  ;  to 
poison  their  waters,  lest  they  might  quench  your 
thirst;  to  destroy  their  bread,  lest  they  might  feed 
you;  to  fire  their  own  dwellings,  lest  they  might 
shelter  you.  The  work  of  destruction,  which  they 
had  not  time  to  complete,  you  finished.  You  wan 
tonly  desolated  their  wheat-fields ;  you  tortured  their 
patriot  clergy,  and  inflicted  even  upon  female  patriot 
ism  your  proverbial  cruelties.  And  now,  from  the 
unchanging  snows  of  Siberia,  may  be  heard  the  wails 
of  unseen  Poland,  as  she  rises  from  her  cenotaph, 
ejaculates  the  woes  and  sufferings  you  have  in  store 
for  my  children,  and  with  a  warning  voice  whispers, 
"fight  on!— fight  on  I" 

Such  is  the  first  invective  of  Hungary  against  her 
mediating  oppressor.  From  this  she  now  turns  and 
appeals  to  the  world.  To  us  especially  does  she  thus 
appeal  for  sympathy.  "You  were  oppressed  ;  so  were 
We.  You  declared  and  fought  for  independence, 
and  triumphed  upon  the  field  of  battle ;  so  did  we. 
You  have  had  the  experience  of  nearly  three  gener 
ations,  and  will  you  now  by  silence  and  inactivity, 
manifest  before  the  world  a  trembling  distrust  in  the 
jmstice  and  wisdom  of  your  principles  ?  In  the  days 
of  your  weakness  the  world  sent  you  a  Montgomery,  a 
Kosciusko,  and  a  La  Fayette ;  and  now,  in  the  days 
of  your  pride  and  strength,  fear  not  to  make  some 
just  return." 

A.  w.  BURL. 

MEANS   OF   HEALTH. 

'  EE  how  the  means  of  sustenance  and  comfort 
are  distributed  and  diversified  throughout  the 
earth.     There  is  not  a  mood  of  body,  from 
the  wantonness  of  health  to  the  languor  of 
the  death-bed,  for  which  the  wonderful  alchemy  of 


nature  does  not  proffer  some  luxury  to  stimulate  out 
pleasures ;  or  her  pharmacy  some  catholicon  to 
assuage  our  pains.  What  textures  for  clothing— 
from  the  gossamer  thread  which  the  silk-worm  weaves, 
to  silk-like  furs  which  the  winds  of  Zembla  cannot 
penetrate  !  As  the  materials  from  which  to  construct 
our  dwellings,  what  Quincys  and  New  Hampshires  of 
granite,  what  Alleghanies  of  oak,  and  what  forests  of 
pine,  belting  the  continent !  What  coal-fields  to  sup 
ply  the  lost  warmth  of  the  receding  sun  !  Nakedness, 
and  famine,  and  pestilence  are  not  inexorable  ordinance* 
of  nature.  Nudity  and  rags  are  only  human  idleness 
or  ignorance  out  on  exhibition.  The  cholera  is  but  the 
wrath  of  God  against  uncleanliness  and  intemperance. 
Famine  is  only  a  proof  of  individual  misconduct,  or 
of  national  misgovernment.  In  the  woes  of  Ireland, 
God  is  proclaiming  the  wickedness  of  England,  in 
tones  as  clear  and  articulate  as  those  in  which  He 
spoke  from  Sinai ;  and  it  needs  no  Hebraist  to  trans 
late  the  thunder. 

And  if  famine  needs  not  to  be,  then  other  forms  of 
destitution  and  misery  need  not  to  be.  But  amid  the 
exuberance  of  this  country,  our  dangers  spring  from 
abundance  rather  than  from  scarcity.  Young  men, 
especially  young  men  in  our  cities,  walk  in  the  midst 
of  allurements  for  the  appetite.  Hence,  health  is 
imperiled ;  and  so  indispensable  an  element  is  health 
in  all  forms  of  human  welfare,  that  whoever  invigor 
ates  his  health  has  already  obtained  one  of  the  greatest 
guarantees  of  mental  superiority,  of  usefulness,  and 
of  virtue.  Health,  strength,  longevity,  depend  upon 
immutable  laws.  There  is  no  chance  about  them. 
There  is  no  arbitrary  interference  of  higher  powers 
with  them.  Primarily,  our  parents,  and  secondarily, 
ourselves,  are  responsible  for  them.  The  providence 
of  God  is  no  more  responsible,  because  the  virulence 
of  disease  rises  above  the  power  of  all  therapeutics,  or 
because  one  quarter  part  of  the  race  die  before  com 
pleting  the  age  of  one  year — die  before  completing  one 
seventieth  part  of  the  term  of  existence  allotted  to 
them  by  the  Psalmist ; — I  say  the  providence  of  God 
is  no  more  responsible  for  these  things,  than  it  is  for 
picking  pockets  or  stealing  horses. 

HORACE    MANN. 

SORROW   FOR   THE   DEAD. 

ORROW  for  the  dead  is  the  only  sorrow  from 
which  we  refuse  to  be  divorced.  Every  other 
wound  we  seek  to  heal :  every  other  affliction 
to  forget ;  but  this  wound  we  consider  our 
duty  to  keep  open  ;  this  affliction  we  cherish  and  brood 
over  in  solitude.  Where  is  the  mother  that  would 
willingly  forget  the  infant  that  perished  like  a  blossom 
from  her  arms,  though  every  recollection  is  a  pang  ? 
Where  is  the  child  that  would  willingly  forget  the 
most  tender  of  parents,  though  to  remember  be  but  to 
lament  ?  who,  even  in  the  hour  of  agony,  would  forget 
the  friend  over  whom  he  mourns  ?  who,  even  when  the 
tomb  is  closing  upon  the  remains  of  her  he  most  loved, 


668 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


and  he  feels  his  heart,  as  it  were,  crushed  in  the  clos 
ing  of  its  portal,  would  accept  consolation  that  was  to 
be  bought  by  forgetfulness  ?  No,  the  love  which  sur 
vives  the  tomb  is  one  of  the  noblest  attributes  of  the 
Boul.  If  it  has  its  woes,  it  has  likewise  its  delights  ; 
and  when  the  overwhelming  burst  of  grief  is  calmed 
into  the  gentle  tear  of  recollection,  when  the  sudden 
anguish  and  the  convulsive  agony  over  the  present 
ruins  of  all  that  we  most  loved,  is  softened  away  into 
pensive  meditation  on  all  that  it  was  in  the  days  of  its 
loveliness,  who  would  root  out  such  a  sorrow  from  the 
heart  ?  Though  it  may  sometimes  throw  a  passing 
eloud  even  over  the  bright  hour  of  gaiety,  or  spread  a 
deeper  sadness  over  the  hour  of  gloom,  yet  who  would 
exchange  it  even  for  the  song  of  pleasure,  or  the  burst 
of  revelry?  No;  there  is  a  voice  from  the  tomb 
sweeter  than  song ;  there  is  a  recollection  of  the  dead 
to  which  we  turn  even  from  the  charms  of  the  living. 
Oh,  the  grave  ! — the  grave  !  It  buries  every  error ; 
covers  every  defect ;  extinguishes  every  resentment. 
From  its  peaceful  bosom  spring  none  but  fond  regrets 
and  tender  recollections.  Who  can  look  down  upon 
the  grave  even  of  an  enemy,  and  not  feel  a  compunc 
tious  throb,  that  ever  he  should  have  warred  with  the 
poor  handful  of  earth  that  lies  mouldering  before 
him  ! 

The  grave  of  those  we  loved — what  a  place  for  medi 
tation  !  There  it  is  that  we  call  up  in  long  review  the 
whole  history  of  virtue  and  gentleness,  and  the  thou 
sand  endearments  lavished  upon  us  almost  unheeded  in 
the  daily  intercourse  of  intimacy ;  there  it  is  that  we 
dwell  upon  the  tenderness,  the  solemn,  awful  tender 
ness  of  the  parting  scene ;  the  bed  of  death  with  all  its 
stifled  griefs ;  its  noiseless  attendants ;  its  mute, 
watchful  assiduities ;  the  last  testimonies  of  expiring 
love ;  the  feeble,  faltering,  thrilling  (oh !  how  thrill 
ing  !)  pressure  of  the  hand ;  the  last  fond  look  of  the 
glazing  eye,  turning  upon  us  even  from  the  threshold 
of  existence;  the  faint,  faltering  accents  struggling  in 
death  to  give  one  more  assurance  of  affection  !  Aye, 
go  to  the  grave  of  buried  love,  and  meditate  !  There 
settle  the  account  with  thy  conscience  for  every  past 
benefit  unrequited,  every  past  endearment  unregarded, 
of  that  being  who  can  never,  never,  never  return  to  be 
soothed  by  thy  contrition  ! 

If  thou  art  a  child,  and  hast  ever  added  a  sorrow  to 
the  soul,  or  a  furrow  to  the  silvered  brow  of  an  affec 
tionate  parent ;  if  thou  art  a  husband,  and  hast  ever 
caused  the  fond  bosom  that  ventured  its  whole  happi 
ness  in  thy  arms  to  doubt  one  moment  of  thy  kindness 
or  thy  truth;  if  thou  art  a  friend,  and  hast  ever 
wronged  in  thought,  word  or  deed,  the  spirit  that 
generously  confided  in  thee ;  if  thou  art  a  lover,  and 
hast  ever  given  one  unmerited  pang  to  that  true  heart 
that  now  lies  cold  and  still  beneath  thy  feet ;  then  be 
sure  that  every  unkind  look,  every  ungracious  word, 
every  ungentle  action,  will  come  thronging  back  upon 
thy  memory,  and  knocking  dolefully  at  thy  soul ;  then 
be  sure  that  thou  wilt  lie  down  sorrowing  and  repentant 
«D  the  grave,  and  utter  the  unheard  groan,  and  pour 


the  unavailing  tear ;  more  deep,  more  bitter,  because 
unheard  and  unavailing. 

Then  weave  the  chaplet  of  flowers,  and  strew  the 
beauties  of  nature  about  the  grave ;  console  thy 
broken  spirit,  if  thou  canst,  with  these  tender,  yet 
futile  tributes  of  regret;  but  take  warning  by  the 
bitterness  of  this  thy  contrite  affliction  over  the  dead, 
and  be  more  faithful  and  affectionate  in  thy  discharge 
of  thy  duties  to  the  living. 

WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

DRESS   REFORM. 

•4 

CONVENTION  has  recently  been  held  in 
Viaeland,  attended  by  the  women  who  are  op 
posed  to  extravagance  in  dress.  They  pro 
pose,  not  only  by  formal  resolution,  but  by 
personal  example,  to  teach  the  world  lessons  of 
economy  by  wearing  less  adornment  and  dragging 
fewer  yards  of  silk.  We  wish  them  all  success, 
although  we  would  have  more  confidence  in  the  move 
ment  if  so  many  of  the  delegates  had  not  worn 
bloomer  dresses.  Moses  makes  war  upon  that  style 
of  apparel  in  Deuteronomy  xxii.  5:  "The  woman 
shall  not  wear  that  which  pertaineth  unto  man." 
Nevertheless  we  favor  every  effort  to  stop  the  ex 
travagant  use  of  dry  goods  and  millinery. 

We  have,  however,  no  sympathy  with  the  implica 
tion  that  women  are  worse  than  men  in  this  respect. 
Men  wear  all  they  can  without  interfering  with  their 
locomotion,  but  man  is  such  an  awkward  creature  he 
cannot  find  any  place  on  his  body  to  hang  a  great 
many  fineries.  He  could  not  get  round  in  Wall  Street 
with  eight  or  ten  flounces  and  a  big  handled  parasol, 
and  a  mountain  of  back  hair.  Men  wear  less  than 
women,  not  because  they  are  more  moral,  but  because 
they  cannot  stand  it  As  it  is,  many  of  our  young 
men  are  padded  to  a  superlative  degree,  and  have 
corns  and  bunions  on  every  separate  toe  from  wearing 
tight  shoes. 

Neither  have  we  any  sympathy  with  the  implication 
that  the  present  is  worse  than  the  past  in  matters  of 
dress.  Compare  the  fashion-plates  of  the  seventeenth 
century  with  the  fashion-plates  of  the  nineteenth,  and 
you  decide  in  favor  of  our  day.  The  women  of 
Isaiah's  time  beat  anything  now.  Do  we  have  the 
kangaroo  fashion  Isaiah  speaks  of — the  daughters  who 
walked  forth  with  "  stretched  forth  necks  ?  "  Talk  of 
hoops  !  Isaiah  speaks  of  women  with  "round  tires 
like  the  moon."  Do  we  have  hot  irons  for  curling  our 
hair  ?  Isaiah  speaks  of ' '  wimples  and  crisping  pins. ' ' 
Do  we  sometimes  wear  glasses  astride  our  nose,  not 
because  we  are  near-sighted,  but  for  beautification  ? 
Isaiah  speaks  of  the  "  glasses,  and  the  earrings,  and 
the  nose  jewels."  The  dress  of  to-day  is  far  more 
sensible  than  that  of  a  hundred  or  a  thousand  yean 
ago. 

But  the  largest  room  in  the  world  is  room  for  im 
provement,  and  we  would  cheer  on  those  who  would 
attempt  reformation  either  in  male  or  female  attire 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


669 


tteaawhue,  we  rejoice  that  so  many  of  the  pearls,  and 
imeralda,  and  amethysts,  and  diamonds  of  the  world 
are  coming  into  the  possession  of  Christian  women. 
Who  knows  but  the  spirit  of  consecration  may  some 
4ay  come  upon  them,  and  it  shall  be  again  as  it  was 
m  the  time  of  Moses,  that  for  the  prosperity  of  the 
noose  of  the  Lord  the  women  may  bring  their  brace 
lets,  and  earrings,  and  tablets,  and  jewels?  The 
precious  stones  of  earth  will  never  have  their  proper 
gj&oe  till  they  are  set  around  the  Pearl  of  Great  Price. 

T.  DE  WITT  TALMAGB. 

WHEN   WAR   SHALL  BE  NO   MORE. 

©EATH  shall  hereafter  work  alone  and  single- 
handed,  unaided  by  his  most  terrible  auxiliary. 
The  world  shall  repose  in  quiet.  Far  down 
the  vista  of  futurity  the  tribes  of  human  kind 
are  seen  mingling  in  fraternal  harmony,  wondering  and 
ahuddering  as  they  read  of  former  brutality,  and 
exulting  at  their  own  more  fortunate  lot  They  turn 
their  grateful  ey<-s  upon  us.  Their  countenances  are 
cot  suffusad  with  tears,  nor  streaked  with  kindred 
blood.  We  hear  their  voices;  they  are  not  swelling 
with  tones  of  general  wailing  and  despair.  We  look 
at  their  smiling  fields,  undevastated  by  the  hand  of 
rapine;  they  are  waving  with  yellow  harvests,  or 
loaded  with  golden  fruits ;  and  their  sunny  pastures 
Are  filled  with  quiet  herds,  which  have  never  known 
the  wanton  ravage  of  war.  We  turn  to  the  peaceful 
bomes  where  our  infancy  has  been  cradled ;  they  stand 
undespoiled  by  the  hand  of  the  destroyer.  The  scenes 
where  we  indulged  our  childish  sports  have  never  been 
profaned  by  hostile  feet ;  and  the  tall  groves,  where 
we  performed  our  feats  of  school-boy  dexterity,  have 
never  been  desecrated  to  obtain  the  implements  of 
human  destruction. 

!Rien  our  thoughts  extend  and  embrace  the  land  of 
oar  birth,  the  institutions  and  laws  we  so  much 
venerate,  and  something  whispers  us  they  shall  endure 
forever;  that  all  time  shall  witness  their  increasing 
perfection ;  that  all  nations  shall  copy  from  its  example, 
and  derive  interminable  benefits  from  its  influence ;  for 
war,  the  destroyer  of  every  valuable  institution,  the 
great  and  sole  cause  of  all  national  rain,  is  soon  to  be 
Men  no  more  forever. 


TBEVELYAK  FABBB. 


TRUE  PATRIOTISM. 


WITH  I 
•?' 
givei 


malice  toward  none;  with  charity  for 
;  with  firmness  in  the  right,  as  God 
gives  us  to  see  the  right,  let  us  strive  on  to 
finish  the  work  we  are  in ;  to  bind  up  the 
(nation's  wounds ;  to  care  for  him  who  shall  have  borne 
the  battle,  and  for  his  widow,  and  his  orphan — to  do 
fell  which  may  achieve  and  cherish  a  just  and  lasting 
pern  among  ourselves,  and  with  all  nations. 

ABRAHAM  UttOOUC. 


A   MARVELLOUS   CLOCK. 

UK  brains  are  seventy-year  clocks.  The  angel 
of  life  winds  them  up  at  once  for  all,  then 
closes  the  cases,  and  gives  the  key  into  the 
hand  of  the  angel  of  resurrection.  "Tic-tae, 
tic-tac  !  "  go  the  wheels  of  thought ;  our  will  cannot 
stop  them ;  madness  only  makes  them  go  fasteV. 
Death  alone  can  break  into  the  case,  and,  seizing  tha 
ever-swinging  pendulum  which  we  call  the  hear^ 
silence  at  last  the  clicking  of  the  terrible  escapeme^ 
we  Slave  carried  so  long  beneath  our  aching  foreheada 

OLIVER  WENDELL   HOUUS& 

MEN   WHO   NEVER  DIE. 

'E  dismiss  them  not  to  the  chambers  of  for* 
getfulness  and  death.  What  we  admired, 
and  prized,  and  venerated  in  them,  can 
never  be  forgotten.  I  had  almost  said  that 
they  are  now  beginning  to  live ;  to  live  that  life  of 
unimpaired  influence,  of  unclouded  fame,  of  un~ 
mingled  happiness,  for  which  their  talents  and  service* 
were  destined.  Such  men  do  not,  cannot  die.  To  be 
cold  and  breathless ;  to  feel  not  and  speak  not ;  this  ia 
not  the  end  of  existence  to  the  men  who  have  breathed 
their  spirits  into  the  institutions  of  their  country,  who 
have  stamped  their  characters  on  the  pillars  of  the 
age,  who  have  poured  their  hearts'  blood  into  the 
channels  of  the  public  prosperity.  Tell  me,  ye  who 
tread  the  sods  of  yon  sacred  height,  is  Warren  dead  f 
Can  you  not  still  see  him,  not  pale  and  prostrate,  the 
blood  of  his  gallant  heart  pouring  out  of  his  ghastly 
wound,  but  moving  resplendent  over  the  field  of 
honor,  with  the  rose  of  heaven  upon  his  cheek,  and  the 
fire  of  liberty  in  his  eye  ?  Tell  me,  ye  who  make  your 
pious  pilgrimage  to  the  shades  of  Vernon,  is  Wash 
ington  indeed  shut  up  in  that  cold  and  narrow  house? 
That  which  made  these  men,  and  men  like  these, 
cannot  die.  The  hand  that  traced  the  charter  of  in 
dependence  is,  indeed,  motionless ;  the  eloquent  lipfl 
that  sustained  it  are  hushed ;  but  the  lofty  spirits  thai 
conceived,  resolved,  and  maintained  it,  and  which 
alone,  to  such  men,  "make  it  life  to  live,"  theuB 
cannot  expire : 

11  These  shall  resist  the  empire  of  decay, 
When  time  is  o'er  and  worlds  have  passed  away; 
Cold  in  the  dust  the  perished  heart  may  lie, 
But  that  which  warmed  it  once  can  never  die." 

EDWAED  BVBBBTT, 

STOPPING  THE  MARCH  OP  FREEDOM. 

ris  not  for  men  long  to  hinder  the  march  ol\ 
human  freedom.     I  have  no  fear  for  that  ulti 
mately  ;  none  at  all — simply  for  this  reason :  thai 
I  believe  in  the  infinite  God.     You  may  make 
your  statutes ;  an  appeal  always  lies  to  the  higher  law, 
«ad  decisions  adverse  to  that  get  set  aside  in  the  age& 
Your  statutes  cannot  hold  Him.    You  may  gather  «ft 


670 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


the  dried  grass  and  all  the  straw  in  both  continents  ; 
you  may  braid  it  into  ropes  to  bind  down  the  sea  ; 
while  it  is  calm,  you  may  laugh,  and  say,  "  Lo,  I  have 
chained  the  ocean  !  "  and  howl  down  the  law  of  Him 
who  holds  the  universe  as  a  rose-bud  in  his  hand  —  its 
every  ocean  but  a  drop  of  dew.  "How  the  waters 
iup  press  their  agitation,"  you  may  say.  But  when 
the  winds  blow  their  trumpets,  the  sea  rises  in  his 
•trength,  snaps  asunder  the  bonds  that  had  confined 
his  mighty  limbs,  and  the  world  is  littered  v''^  the 
idle  hay!  Stop  the  human  race  in  its  deve*..v  <•  nt 
and  march  to  freedom  !  As  well  might  the  boys  of 
Boston,  some  lustrous  night,  mounting  the  steeples 
of  the  town,  call  on  the  stars  to  stop  their  course  ! 
Gently,  but  irresistibly,  the  Greater  and  the  Lesser 
Bear  move  round  the  pole  ;  Orion,  in  his  mighty  mail, 
comes  up  the  sky  ;  the  Bull,  the  Heavenly  Twins,  the 
Grab,  the  Lion,  the  Maid,  the  Scales,  and  all  that 
shining  company,  pursue  their  march  all  night,  and 
the  new  day  discovers  the  idle  urchins  in  their  lofty 
places  all  tired,  and  sleepy,  and  ashamed. 

THEODORE  PARK.KB, 

INVECTIVE  IN  THE  "WILKINSON  TRIAL." 


,  although  my  clients  are  free 
from  the  charge  of  shedding  blood,  there  is  a 
murderer,  and,  strange  to  say,  his  name  ap 
pears  upon  the  indictment,  not  as  a  criminal, 
bat  a  prosecutor.  His  garments  are  wet  with  the 
blood  of  those  upon  whose  deaths  you  hold  this  solemn 
inquest  Yonder  he  sits,  allaying  for  a  moment  the 
hunger  of  that  fierce  vulture,  conscience,  by  casting 
before  it  the  food  of  pretended  regret,  and  false  but 
apparent  eagerness  for  justice.  He  hopes  to  appease 
the  manes  of  his  slaughtered  victims  —  victims  to  his 
falsehood  and  treachery  —  by  sacrificing  upon  their 
graves  a  hecatomb  of  innocent  men.  By  base  misrep 
resentations  of  the  conduct  of  the  defendants,  he  in 
duced  his  imprudent  friends  to  attempt  a  vindication 
of  his  pretended  wrongs,  by  violence  and  bloodshed. 
His  clansmen  gathered  at  his  call,  and  followed  him 
for  vengeance;  but  when  the  fight  began,  and  the 
keen  weapons  clashed  in  the  sharp  conflict  —  where  was 
the  wordy  warrior?  Aye,  "where  was  Roderick 
then  ?  "  No  "  blast  upon  his  bugle  horn  '  '  encouraged 
his  companions  as  they  were  laying  down  their  lives 
in  his  quarrel  ;  no  gleam  of  his  dagger  indicated  a 
desire  to  avenge  his  fall  ;  with  treacherous  cowardice 
be  left  them  to  their  fate,  and  all  his  vaunted  courage 
ended  in  ignominious  flight 

Sad  and  gloomy  is  the  path  that  lies  before  him. 
Yon  will  in  a  few  moments  dash,  uutasted,  from  his 
Bps,  the  sweet  cup  of  revenge  ;  to  quaff  whose  in 
toxicating  contents  he  has  paid  a  price  that  would  have 
purchased  the  goblet  of  the  Egyptian  queen.  I  be 
hold  gathering  around  him,  thick  and  fast,  dark  and 
corroding  cares.  That  face,  which  looks  so  ruddy,  and 
•ven  now  is  flushed  with  shame  and  conscious  guilt, 
iriU  iroui  this  day  grow  pale,  until  the  craven  blood 


shall  refuse  to  visit  the  haggard  cheek.  In  his  broiuut 
and  distorted  sleep  his  dreams  will  be  more  fearful 
than  those  of  the  "false,  perjured  Clarence;"  and 
around  his  waking  pillow,  in  the  deep  hour  of  night, 
will  flit  the  ghosts  of  Meeks  and  Roth  well,  shrieking 
their  curses  in  his  shrinking  ear. 

Upon  his  head  rests  not  only  the  blood  shed  in  this 
unfortunate  strife,  but  also  the  soul-killing  crime  of 
perjury  ;  for,  surely  as  he  lives,  did  the  words  of  craft 
and  falsehood  fall  from  his  lips,  ere  they  were  hardly 
loosened  from  the  holy  volume.  But  I  dismiss  him, 
and  do  consign  him  to  the  furies,  trusting,  in  all 
charity,  that  the  terrible  punishment  he  must  suffer 
from  the  scorpion-lash  of  guilty  conscience  will  be 
considered  in  his  last  account. 

SAKGKNT  a   PBBBTtBB. 


THE   bALLOT-BOX. 

IAM  aware  that  the  ballot-box  is  not  everywhere 
a  consistent  symbol ;  but  to  a  large  degree  it  is  BO, 
I  know  what  miserable  associations  cluster  around 
this  instrument  of  popular  power.  I  know  that 
the  arena  in  which  it  stands  is  trodden  into  mire  by 
the  feet  of  reckless  ambition  and  selfish  greed.  The 
wire-pulling  and  the  bribing,  the  pitiful  truckling  and 
the  grotesque  compromises,  the  exaggeration  and  the 
detraction,  the  melo-dramatic  issues  and  the  sham 
patriotism,  the  party  watchwords  and  the  party  nick 
names,  the  schemes  of  the  few  paraded  as  the  will  of 
the  many,  the  elevation  of  men  whose  only  worth  is 
in  the  votes  they  command — vile  men,  whose  hand* 
you  would  not  grasp  fei  friendship,  whose  presence 
you  would  not  tolerate  by  your  fireside — incompetent 
men,  whose  fitness  is  not  in  their  capacity  as  function 
aries,  or  legislators,  but  as  organ  pipes ; — the  snatch 
ing  at  the  slices  and  offal  of  office,  the  intemperance 
and  the  violence,  the  finesse  and  the  falsehood,  the  gin 
and  the  glory;  these  are  indeed  but  too  closely 
identified  with  that  political  agitation  which  circles 
around  the  ballot-box. 

But,  after  all,  they  are  not  essential  to  it  They  are 
only  the  masks  of  a  genuine  grandeur  and  importance. 
For  it  is  a  grand  thing — something  which  involves 
profound  doctrines  of  right — something  which  has 
cost  ages  of  effort  and  sacrifice — it  is  a  grand  thing 
that  here,  at  last,  each  voter  has  just  the  weight  of 
one  man ;  no  more,  no  less ;  and  the  weakest,  by 
virtue  of  his  recognized  manhood,  is  as  strong  as  the 
mightiest  And  consider,  for  a  moment,  what  it  is  to 
cast  a  vote.  It  is  the  token  of  inestimable  privileges, 
and  involves  the  responsibilities  of  an  hereditary  trust. 
It  has  passed  into  your  hands  as  a  right,  reaped  from 
fields  of  suffering  and  blood.  The  grandeur  of  history 
is  represented  in  your  act  Men  have  wrought  with 
pen  and  tongue,  and  pined  in  dungeons,  and  died  os 
scaffolds,  that  you  mighfc  obtain  this  symbol  of  free 
dom,  and  enjoy  this  consciousness  of  a  sacred  individ 
uality.  To  the  ballot  have  been  transmitted,  _*•  "A 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


671 


power. 


B,  the  dignity  of  the  sceptre  and  the  potency  of  the 
•word. 

And  that  which  is  so  potent  as  a  right  is  also  preg 
nant  as  a  duty ;  a  duty  for  the  present  and  for  the 
future.  If  you  will,  that  folded  leaf  becomes  a  tongue 
«f  justice,  a  voice  of  order,  a  force  of  imperial  law ; 
tecuring  rights,  abolishing  abuses,  erecting  new  insti 
tutions  of  truth  and  love.  And,  however  you  will,  it 
is  the  expression  of  a  solemn  responsibility,  the  ex 
ercise  of  an  immeasurable  power  for  good  or  for  evil, 
BOW  and  hereafter.  It  is  the  medium  through  which 
you  act  upon  your  country — the  organic  nerve  which 
incorporates  you  with  its  life  and  welfare.  There  is 
no  agent  with  which  the  possibilities  of  the  republic 
we  more  intimately  involved,  none  upon  which  we  can 
fill!  back  with  more  confidence  than  the  ballot-box. 

EDWIN  H.  CHAPXN. 

DANGER   OF  VAST   FORTUNES. 

[AST  fortunes  are  a  misfortune  to  the  State. 
They  confer  irresponsible  power ;  and  kuman 
nature,  except  in  the  rarest  instances,  has 
proved  incapable  of  wielding  irresponsible 
without  abuse.  The  feudalism  of  Capital  is 
not  a  whit  less  formidable  than  the  feudalism  of  Force. 
Hie  millionaire  is  as  dangerous  to  the  welfare  of  the 
community,  in  our  day,  as  was  the  baronial  lord  of  the 
middle  ages.  Both  supply  the  means  of  shelter  and 
of  raiment  on  the  same  conditions ;  both  hold  their 
retainers  in  service  by  the  same  tenure — their  necessity 
for  bread ;  both  use  their  superiority  to  keep  them 
selves  superior.  The  power  of  money  is  as  imperial  as 
the  power  of  the  sword  ;  I  may  as  well  depend  upon 
another  for  my  head  as  for  my  bread.  The  day  is  sure 
to  come,  when  men  will  look  back  upon  the  preroga 
tives  of  Capital,  at  the  present  time,  with  as  severe 
and  as  just  a  condemnation  as  we  now  look  back  upon 
the  predatory  chieftains  of  the  Dark  Ages. 

Weighed  in  the  balances  of  the  sanctuary,  or  even  in 
the  clumsy  scales  of  human  justice,  there  is  no  equity  in 
the  allotments,  which  assign  to  one  man  but  a  dollar 
a  day,  with  working,  while  another  has  an  income  of  a 
dollar  a  minute,  without  working.  Under  the  reign 
of  Force,  or  under  the  reign  of  Money,  there  may  be 
here  and  there  a  good  man  who  uses  his  power  for 
blessing  and  not  for  oppressing  his  race ;  but  all  their 
natural  tendencies  are  exclusively  bad.  In  England, 
we  see  the  feudalism  of  Capital  approaching  its  catas 
trophe.  In  Ireland,  we  see  the  catastrophe  consum 
mated.  Unhappy  Ireland !  where  the  objects  of 
human  existence  and  the  purposes  of  human  govern 
ment  have  all  been  reversed ;  where  rulers,  for 
centuries,  have  ruled  for  the  aggrandizement  of  them 
selves,  and  not  for  the  happiness  of  their  subjects ; 
where  misgovernment  has  reigned  so  long,  so 
lupremely,  and  so  atrociously,  that,  at  the  present 
tiuiu,  the  "Three  Estates"  of  the  realm  are  Crime, 
Famine,  and  Death. 

HORACE   MANN, 


THE   WORLD   OF  BEAUTY   AROUND   US. 

UT  a  higher  and  holier  world  than  the  world  oi 
Ideas,  or  the  world  of  Beauty,  lies  around  us ; 
and  we  find  ourselves  endued  with  suscepti 
bilities  which  affiliate  us  to  all  its  purity  and 
hs  perfectness.  The  laws  of  nature  are  sublime,  but 
there  is  a  moral  sublimity  before  which  the  highest  in 
telligences  must  kneel  and  adore.  The  laws  by  which 
the  winds  blow,  and  the  tides  of  the  ocean,  like  a  vast 
clepsydra,  measure,  with  inimitable  exactness,  th« 
hours  of  ever-flowing  time ;  the  laws  by  which  the 
planets  roll,  and  the  sun  vivifies  and  paints  ;  the  laws 
which  preside  over  the  subtle  combinations  of  chemistry, 
and  the  amazing  velocities  of  electricity ;  the  laws  of 
germination  and  production  in  the  vegetable  and 
aaimal  worlds  ; — aU!  these,  radiant  with  eternal  beauty 
as  thef  are  and  exalted  above  all  the  objects  of  sense, 
stii;  \Tant  and  pale  before  the  Moral  Glories  that 
apparel  the  universe  in  their  celestial  light 

The  heart  can  put  on  charms  which  no  beauty  of 
known  things,  nor  imagination  of  the  unknown,  can 
aspire  to  emulate.  Virtue  shines  in  native  colors, 
purer  and  brighter  than  pearl,  or  diamond,  or  prism, 
can  reflect.  Arabian  gardens  in  their  bloom  can 
exhale  no  such  sweetness  as  charity  diffuses.  Benefi 
cence  is  godlike,  and  he  who  does  most  good  to  his 
fellow-man  is  the  Master  of  Masters,  and  has  learned 
the  Art  of  Arts.  Enrich  and  embellish  the  universe 
as  you  will,  it  is  only  a  fit  temple  for  the  heart  that 
loves  truth  with  a  supreme  love.  Inanimate  vastuesB 
excites  wonder;  knowledge  kindles  admiration,  but 
love  enraptures  the  soul.  Scientific  truth  is  marvel 
lous,  but  moral  truth  is  divine ;  and  whoever  breathes 
its  air  and  walks  by  its  light  has  found  the  lost  para 
dise.  For  him  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth  have 
already  been  created.  His  home  is  the  sanctuary  of 
God,  the  Holy  of  Holies. 

HOBACE  MAN*. 


SOCIETY    WITHOUT    MORALITY. 

HE  mass  is  changing.  We  are  becoming 
another  people.  Our  habits  have  held  us, 
long  after  those  moral  causes  which  formed 
them  have  in  a  great  degree  ceased  to  operate. 
These  habits,  at  length,  are  giving  way.  So  many 
hands  have  so  long  been  employed  to  pull  away 
foundations,  and  so  few  to  repair  the  breaches,  tLal 
the  building  totters.  So  much  enterprise  has  been 
displayed  in  removing  obstructions  from  the  current 
of  human  depravity,  and  so  little  to  restore  them,  that 
the  stream  at  length  is  beginning  to  run.  It  may  be 
stopped  now,  but  it  will  soon  become  deep,  and  broad, 
and  rapid,  and  irresistible. 

The  crisis  then  has  come.  By  the  people  of  this 
generation,  by  ourselves  probably,  the  amazing  ques 
tion  is  to  be  decided,  whether  the  inheritance  of  orar 
fathers  shall  be  preserved,  or  thrown  away — whether 
our  Sabbaths  shall  be  a  delight,  or  a  loathing — whether 


672 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


the  taverns  on  that  holy  day  shall  be  crowded  with 
drunkards,  or  the  sanctuary  of  God  with  humble  wor 
shippers  —  whether  riot  and  profanity  shall  fill  our 
streets,  and  poverty  our  dwellings,  and  convicts  our 
jails,  and  violence  our  land  ;  or  whether  industry,  and 
temperance,  and  righteousness,  shall  be  the  stability 
of  our  times  —  whether  mild  laws  shall  receive  the 
cheerful  submission  of  freemen,  or  the  iron  rod  of  a 
tyrant  compel  the  trembling  homage  of  slaves.  Be  not 
deceived.  Human  nature  in  this  nation  is  like  human 
nature  everywhere.  All  actual  difference  in  our  favor 
is  adventitious,  and  the  result  of  our  laws,  institutions 
and  habits.  It  is  a  moral  influence  which,  with  the 
blessing  of  God,  has  formed  a  state  of  society  so 
eminently  desirable.  The  same  influence  which  has 
formed  it,  is  indispensable  to  its  preservation.  The 
rocks  and  hills  of  New  England  will  remain  till  the  last 
conflagration  ;  but,  let  the  Sabbath  be  profaned  with 
impunity,  the  worship  of  God  be  abandoned,  the 
government  and  religious  instruction  of  children  be 
neglected,  the  streams  of  intemperance  be  permitted 
to  flow,  and  her  glory  will  depart.  The  wall  of  fire 
will  no  more  surround  her,  and  the  munition  of  rocks 
will  no  longer  be  her  defence. 

LYMAN   BEBCHEB. 

GETTING   THE    RIGHT   START. 


VW^TTTT^TT 

^K  rs 


is  no  surer  sign  of  an  unmanly  and 
cowardly  spirit  than  a  vague  desire  for  help, 
»  wish  to  depend,  to  lean  upon  somebody  and 
enjoy  the  fruits  of  the  industry  of  others. 
There  are  multitudes  of  young  men  who  indulge  in 
dreams  of  help  from  some  quarter  coming  in  at  a  con 
venient  moment  to  enable  them  to  secure  the  success 
in  life  which  they  covet.  The  vision  haunts  them  of 
Home  benevolent  old  gentleman  with  a  pocket  full  of 
money,  a  trunk  full  of  mortgages  and  stocks,  and  a 
mind  remarkably  appreciative  of  merit  and  genius, 
who  will,  perhaps,  give  or  lend  them  from  ten  to 
twenty  thousand  dollars,  with  which  they  will  com 
mence  and  go  on  swimmingly. 

To  me  one  of  the  most  disgusting  sights  in  the 
world  is  that  of  a  young  man  with  healthy  blood, 
broad  shoulders  and  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  more 
or  less,  of  good  bone  and  muscle,  standing  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  longing  for  help.  I  admit  that 
there  are  positions  in  which  the  most  independent 
spirit  may  accept  of  assistance  —  may,  in  fact,  as  a 
choice  of  evils,  desire  it  ;  but  for  a  man  who  is  able  to 
help  himself,  to  desire  the  help  of  others  in  the  accom 
plishment  of  his  plans  of  life,  is  positive  proof  that 
he  has  received  a  most  unfortunate  training  or  that 
there  is  a  leaven  of  meanness  in  his  composition  that 
should  make  him  shudder. 

When,  therefore,  a  young  man  has  ascertained  and 
fully  received  the  fact  that  he  does  not  know  anything, 
that  the  world  does  not  care  anything  about  him,  that 
what  he  wins  must  be  won  by  his  own  brain  and 
brown,  and  that  while  he  holds  in  his  own  hands  the 


means  of  gaining  his  own  livelihood  and  the  objects  of 
his  life,  he  cannot  receive  assistance  without  compro 
mising  his  self-respect  and  selling  his  freedom,  he  is  iu 
a  fair  position  for  beginning  life.  When  a  young  man 
becomes  aware  that  only  by  his  own  efforts  can  he  rise 
into  companionship  and  competition  with  the  sharp, 
strong,  and  well-drilled  minds  around  him,  he  is  ready 
for  work,  and  not  before. 

The  next  lesson  is  that  of  patience,  thoroughness 
of  preparation,  and  contentment  with  the  regular 
channels  of  business  effort  and  enterprise.  This  is, 
perhaps,  one  of  the  most  difficult  to  learn  ov  all  the 
lessons  of  life.  It  is  natural  for  the  mind  to  reach  out 
eagerly  for  immediate  results. 

As  manhood  dawns,  and  the  young  man  catches  in 
its  first  light  the  pinnacles  of  realized  dreams,  the 
golden  domes  of  high  possibilities,  and  the  purpling 
hills  of  great  delights,  and  then  looks  down  upon  the 
narrow,  sinuous,  long,  and  dusty  path  by  which  other* 
have  reached  them,  he  is  apt  to  be  disgusted  with  the 
passage  and  to  seek  for  success  through  broader  chan 
nels,  by  quicker  means.  Beginning  at  the  very  foot  of 
the  hill  and  working  slowly  to  the  top  seems  a  very 
discouraging  process ;  and  precisely  at  this  point  have 
thousands  of  jxmng  men  made  shipwreck  of  their 
lives. 

Let  this  be  understood,  then,  at  starting ;  that  the 
patient  conquest  of  difficulties  which  rise  in  the  regular 
and  legitimate  channels  of  business  and  enterprise  is 
not  only  essential  in  securing  the  success  which  you 
seek,  but  it  is  essential  to  that  preparation  of  your 
mind  requisite  for  the  enjoyment  of  your  successes  and 
for  retaining  them  when  gained.  It  is  the  general  rule 
of  Providence,  the  world  over  and  in  all  time,  that 
unearned  success  is  a  curse.  It  is  the  rule  of  Prov 
idence  that  the  process  of  earning  success  shall  be 
the  preparation  for  its  conservation  and  enjoyment. 

So,  day  by  day,  and  week  by  week  ;  so,  month  after 
month,  and  year  after  year,  work  on,  and  in  that  pro- 
cessga  in  strength  and  symmetry,  and  nerve  and  knowl 
edge,  that  when  success,  patiently  and  bravely  worked 
forth,  shall  come,  it  may  find  you  prepared  to  receive 
it  and  keep  it.  The  development  which  you  will  get 
in  this  brave  and  patient  labor  will  prove  itself  in  the 
end  the  most  valuable  of  your  successes.  It  will  help 
to  make  a  man  of  you.  It  will  give  you  power  and 
self-reliance.  It  will  give  you  not  only  self-respect, 
but  the  respect  of  your  fellows  and  the  public. 

JOSIAH  GILBERT  HOLLAND. 

THE    THINKER. 

WHAT  is  the  hardest  task  in  the  world?    T«< 
think.     I  would  put  myself  in  the  attitude 
to  look  in  the  eye  of  an  abstract  truth,  and 
I  cannot     I  blench  and  withdraw  on  this 
side  and  that     I  seem  to  know  what  he  meant,  who 
said,  "No  man  can  see  God  face  to  face,  and  live." 
For  example,  a  man  explores  the  basis  of  civil  govern 
ment.      Let  him  intend  his  mind  without  respite. 


MASTERPIECES   OF  ELOQUENCE. 


673 


adthout  rest,  in  one  direction.  His  best  heed  long 
time  avails  him  nothing.  Yet  thoughts  are  flitting 
before  him.  We  all  but  apprehend,  we  dimly  fore 
bode  the  truth.  We  say,  I  will  walk  abroad,  and  the 
truth  will  take  form  and  clearness  to  me.  We  go 
forth,  but  cannot  find  it.  It  seems  as  if  we  needed 
only  the  stillness  and  composed  attitude  of  the  library, 
to  seize  the  thought.  But  we  come  in,  and  are  as  far 
from  it  as  at  first.  Then,  in  a  moment,  and  unan 
nounced,  the  truth  appears.  A  certain  wandering 
light  appears,  and  is  the  distinction,  the  principle,  we 
wanted.  But  the  oracle  comes,  because  we  had 
previously  laid  siege  to  the  shrine.  It  seems  as  if  the 
law  of  the  intellect  resembles  that  law  of  nature  by 
which  we  now  inspire,  now  expire,  the  breath  by 
which  the  heart  now  draws  in,  now  hurls  out  the 
blood  :  the  law  of  undulation.  So  now  you  must  labor 
with  your  brains,  and  now  you  must  forbear  your 
«  Aivity,  and  see  what  the  great  soul  showeth. 

RALPH  WALDO   EMEESON. 

COMPANIONSHIP  WITH    CHILDREN. 


has  been  the  charm  of  childhood  on  my 
spirit,  throughout  my  ramble  with  little 
Annie  !  Say  not  that  it  has  been  a  waste  of 
precious  moments,  an  idle  matter,  a  babble 
•f  childish  talk,  and  a  reverie  of  childish  imaginations 
about  topics  unworthy  of  a  grown  man's  notice.  Has 
it  been  merely  this  ?  Not  so  ;  not  so.  They  are  not 
truly  wise  who  would  affirm  it.  As  the  pure  breath 
of  children  revives  the  life  of  aged  men,  so  is  our 
moral  nature  revived  by  their  free  and  simple  thoughts, 
their  native  feeling,  their  airy  mirth,  for  little  cause  or 
none,  their  grief,  soon  roused  and  soon  allayed. 
Their  influence  on  us  is  at  least  reciprocal  with  ours  on 
them. 

When  our  infancy  is  almost  forgotten,  and  our  boy 
hood  long  departed,  though  it  seems  but  as  yesterday  ; 
when  life  settles  darkly  down  upon  us,  and  we  doubt 
whether  to  call  ourselves  young  any  more,  then  it  is 
good  to  steal  away  from  the  society  of  bearded  men, 
and  even  of  gentler  women,  and  spend  an  hour  or  two 
with  children.  After  drinking  from  those  fountains 
of  sffll  fresh  existence,  we  shall  return  into  the  crowd, 
as  I  do  now,  to  struggle  onward  and  do  our  part  in 
life,  perhaps  as  fervently  as  ever,  but,  for  a  time,  with 
a  kinder  and  purer  heart,  and  a  spirit  more  lightly 
wise.  All  this  by  thy  sweet  magic,  dear  little  Annie  ! 

NATHANIEL   HAWTHORNE. 


ffi 


MUSIC. 

USIC  is  well  said  to  be  the  speech  of  angels ; 
fact,     nothing    among    the    utterances 


in 


allowed;  «o  man  is  felt  to  be  so  divine.  It 
brings  us  near  to  the  Infinite  ;  we  look  for 
moments,  across  the  cloudy  elements,  into  the  eternal 
eea  of  Hght,  when  song  leads  and  inspires  us.  Serious 
nations,  all  nations  that  can  still  listen  to  the  mandate 

43 


of  nature,  have  prized  song  and  music  as  the  highest ; 
as  a  vehicle  for  worship,  for  prophecy,  and  for  what 
soever  in  them  was  divine.  The  singer  was  a  vatM 
admitted  to  the  council  of  the  universe,  friend  of  the 
gods,  and  choicest  benefactor  to  man. 

THOMAS  CAJXTUK. 

WORK. 

ris  no  man's  business  whether  he  has  genius  of 
not ;  work  he  must,  whatever  he  is,  but  quietly 
and  steadily ;  and  the  natural  and  unforced  re 
sults  of  such  work  will  be  always  the  thing  God 
meant  him  to  do,  and  will  be  his  best. 

JOHN  KUSKW. 

TRUE   POLITENESS. 

as  to  politeness,  many  have  attempted  its 
definition.  I  believe  it  is  best  to  be  known  by 
description  ;  definition  not  being  able  to  com 
prise  it.  I  would,  however,  venture  to  call  ft 
benevolence  in  trifles,  or  the  preference  of  others  to 
ourselves,  in  little  daily,  hourly  occurrences  in  the 
commerce  of  life.  A  better  place,  a  more  commodious 
seat,  priority  in  being  helped  at  table  ;  what  is  it  but 
sacrificing  ourselves  in  such  trifles  to  the  convenience 
and  pleasures  of  others?  And  this  constitutes  true 
politeness.  It  is  a  perpetual  attention  (by  habit  it 
grows  easy  and  natural  to  us)  to  the  little  wants  of 
those  we  are  with,  by  which  we  either  prevent  or 
remove  them.  Bowing,  ceremonies,  formal  compli 
ments,  stiff  civilities  will  never  be  politeness;  that 
must  be  easy,  natural,  unstudied,  manly,  noble.  And 
what  will  give  this  but  a  mind  benevolent,  and  per 
petually  attentive  to  exert  that  amiable  disposition  hi 
trifles  towards  all  you  converse  and  live  with.  Benev 
olence  in  great  matters  takes  a  higher  name,  and  ia 
the  Queen  of  Virtue. 

LORD  CHATHAM. 

ITALY. 

HAT  light  is  shed  upon  the  world  at  thit 
day,  from  amidst  these  nigged  palaces  of 
Florence  !  Here,  open  to  all  comers,  in 
their  beautiful  and  calm  retreats,  the  an 
cient  sculptors  are  immortal,  side  by  side  witlk 
Michael  Angelo,  Canova,  Titian,  Rembrandt,  Raphael, 
poets,  historians,  philosophers — those  illustrious  men 
of  history,  beside  whom  its  crowned  head  and  har 
nessed  warriors  show  so  poor  and  small,  and  are  so  soon 
forgotten.  Here,  the  imperishable  part  of  noble  minds 
survives,  placid  and  equal,  when  strongholds  of  assault 
and  defence  are  overthrown  ;  when  the  tyranny  of  the 
many,  or  the  few,  or  both,  is  but  a  tale ;  when  pride 
and  power  are  so  much  cloistered  dust.  The  fire  with 
in  the  stern  streets,  and  among  the  massive  palacei 
and  towers,  kindled  by  rays  from  heaven,  is  still  burn 
ing  brightly,  when  the  flickering  of  war  is  extinguished, 
and  the  household  fires  of  generations  have  decayed ; 


674 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


li  thousands  upon  thousands  of  faces,  rigid  with  the 
Itrife  and  passion  of  the  hour,  have  faded  out  of  the 
old  squares  and  public  haunts,  while  the  nameless 
Florentine  lady,  preserved  from  oblivion  by  a  painter's 
hand,  yet  lives  on  in  enduring  grace  and  truth. 

CHARLES  DICKENS. 

EXECUTION   OF  JOAN   OF  ARC. 

§AVING  placed  the  king  on  his  throne,  it  was 
her  fortune  thenceforward  to  be  thwarted. 
More  than  one  military  plan  was  entered  upon 
which  she  did  not  approve.  Too  well  she  felt 
that  the  end  was  now  at  hand.  Still,  she  continued 
to  expose  her  person  in  battle  as  before ;  severe 
wounds  had  not  taught  her  caution ;  and  at  length 
she  was  made  prisoner  by  the  Burgundians,  and 
finally  given  up  to  the  English.  The  object  now  was 
to  vitiate  the  coronation  of  Charles  VII.  as  the  work 
of  a  witch  ;  and,  for  this  end,  Joan  was  tried  for 
sorcery.  She  resolutely  defended  herself  from  the 
absurd  accusation. 

Never,  from  the  foundation  of  the  earth,  was  there 
guch  a  trial  as  this,  if  it  were  laid  open  in  all  its 
beauty  of  defence,  and  all  its  malignity  of  attack.  0, 
child  of  France,  shepherdess,  peasant-girl !  trodden 
under  foot  by  all  around  thee,  how  I  honor  thy  flash 
ing  intellect — quick  as  the  lightning,  and  as  true  to  its 
mark — that  ran  before  France  and  laggard  Europe  by 
many  a  century,  confounding  the  malice  of  the  ensnarer, 
and  making  dumb  the  oracles  of  falsehood  !  "  Would 
you  examine  me  as  a  witness  against  myself?"  was 
the  question  by  which  many  times  she  defied  their 
arts.  The  result  of  this  trial  was  the  condemnation 
of  Joan  to  be  burnt  alive.  Never  did  grim  inquisitors 
doom  to  death  a  fairer  victim  by  baser  means. 

Woman,  sister  !  there  are  some  things  which  you  do 
not  execute  as  well  as  your  brother,  man  ;  no,  nor 
ever  will.  Yet,  sister  woman !  cheerfully,  and  with 
the  love  that  burns  in  depths  of  admiration,  1  acknowl 
edge  that  you  can  do  one  thing  as  well  as  the  best  of 
men — you  can  die  grandly  !  On  the  twentieth  of  May, 
1431,  being  then  about  nineteen  years  of  age,  Joan  of 
Arc  underwent  her  martyrdom.  She  was  conducted 
before  mid-day  guarded  by  eight  spearmen,  to  a  plat 
form  of  prodigious  height,  constructed  of  wooden 
billets,  supported  by  occasional  walls  of  lath  and  plaster, 
and  traversed  by  hollow  spaces  in  every  direction,  for 
the  creation  of  air-currents. 

With  an  undaunted  soul,  but  a  meek  and  saintly 
demeanor,  the  maiden  encountered  her  terrible  fate. 
Upon  her  head  was  placed  a  mitre,  bearing  the  in 
scription,  "Relapsed  heretic,  apostate,  idolatress.1' 
Her  piety  displayed  itself  in  the  most  touching  man 
ner  to  the  last,  and  her  angelic  forgetfulness  of  self 
was  manifest  in  a  most  remarkable  degree.  The  ex 
ecutioner  had  been  directed  to  apply  his  torch  from 
below.  He  did  so.  The  fiery  smoke  rose  upwards  in 
billowing  volumes.  A  monk  was  then  standing  at 
Joan's  side.  Yv'rapt  up  in  his  sublime  office,  he  saw 


not  the  danger,  but  still  persisted  in  his  prayers 
Even  then,  when  the  last  enemy  was  racing  up  the 
fiery  stairs  to  seize  her,  even  at  that  moment,  did  this 
noblest  of  girls  think  only  for  him — the  one  friend  that 
would  not  forsake  her — and  not  for  herself ;  bidding 
him  with  her  last  breath  to  care  for  his  own  preserva 
tion,  but  to  leave  her  to  God.  "  Go  down,"  she  said  ; 
"lift  up  the  cross  before  me,  that  I  may  see  it  in 
dying,  and  speak  to  me  pious  words  to  the  end." 
Then  protesting  .her  innocence,  and  recommending 
her  soul  to  Heaven,  she  continued  to  pray  as  the 
flames  leaped  up  and  walled  her  in.  Her  last  audible 
word  was  the  name  of  Jesus.  Sustained  by  faith  in 
Him,  in  her  last  fight  upon  the  scaffold,  she  had 
triumphed  gloriously ;  victoriously  she  had  tasted 
death. 

Few  spectators  of  this  martyrdom  were  so  hardened 
as  to  contain  their  tears.  All  the  English,  *rith  the 
exception  of  a  few  soldiers  who  made  a  jest  of  the 
affair,  were  deeply  moved.  The  French  murmured 
that  the  death  was  cruel  and  unjust.  "  She  dies  a 
martyr!"  "Ah,  we  are  lost,  we  have  burned  a 
saint!"  "Would  to  God  that  my  soul  were  with 
hers!"  Such  were  the  exclamations  on  every  side. 
A  fanatic  English  soldier,  who  had  sworn  to  throw  a 
fagot  on  the  funeral-pile,  hearing  Joan's  last  prayer 
to  her  Saviour,  suddenly  turned  away,  a  penitent  for 
life,  saying  everywhere  that  he  had  seen  a  dove,  rising 
upon  white  wings  to  heaven  from  the  ashes  where  she 
stood. 

THOMAS  DE  QUINCKY. 

AT   THE    LAST. 

IFEEL  in  myself  the  future  life.  I  am  like  a  forest 
which  has  been  more  than  once  cut  down.  The 
new  shoots  are  stronger  and  livelier  than  ever.  I 
am  rising,  I  know,  toward  the  sky.  The  sun 
shine  is  on  my  head.  The  earth  gives  me  its  generous 
sap,  but  Heaven  lights  me  with  the  reflection  of  un 
known  worlds.  You  say  the  soul  is  nothing  but  the 
resultant  of  bodily  powers.  Why,  then,  is  my  soul 
the  most  luminous  when  my  bodily  powers  begin  to 
fail  ?  Winter  is  on  my  head  and  eternal  spring  is  in 
my  heart.  Then  I  breathe,  at  this  hour,  the  fragrance 
of  the  lilacs,  the  violets  and  the  roses,  as  at  twenty 
years.  The  nearer  I  approach  the  end  the  plainer  I 
hear  around  me  the  immortal  symphonies  of  the  worlds 
which  invite  me.  It  is  marvelous,  yet  simple.  It  is  a 
fairy  tale,  and  it  is  history.  For  half  a  century  I  have 
been  writing  my  thoughts  in  prose,  verse,  hietoryn 
philosophy,  drama,  romance,  tradition,  satire,  ode. 
song — I  have  tried  all.  But  I  feel  that  I  have  not 
said  the  thousandth  part  of  what  is  in  me.  When  I 
go  down  to  the  grave  I  can  say,  like  so  many  others,  "  I 
have  finished  my  day's  work  ;  "  but  I  cannot  say,  "I 
have  finished  my  life."  My  day's  work  will  begin 
again  the  next  morning.  The  tomb  is  not  a  blind 
alley ;  it  is  a  thoroughfare.  It  closes  in  the  twilight 
to  open  with  the  dawn.  I  improve  every  h«ur,  be- 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


675 


cause  I  love  this  world  as  my  fatherland  ;  because  the 
truth  compels  me  as  it  compelled  Voltaire,  that  human 
divinity.  My  work  is  only  a  beginning.  My  monu 
ment  is  hardly  above  its  foundation.  I  would  be  glad 
to  see  it  mounting  and  mounting  forever.  The  thirst 
tor  the  infinite  proves  infinity. 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

NAPOLEON    AT    ST.    HELENA. 

IS  notions  of  the  world,  as  he  expresses  them 
there  at  St.  Helena,  are  almost  tragical  to  con 
sider.  He  seems  to  feel  the  most  unaffected 
surprise  that  it  has  all  gone  so ;  that  he  is  flung 
out  on  the  rock  here,  and  the  world  is  still  moving  on 
its  axis.  France  is  great,  and  all-great ;  and,  at  bot 
tom,  he  is  France.  England  itself,  he  says,  is  by 
nature  only  an  appendage  of  France  ;  ''Another  Isle 
of  Oleren  to  France."  So  it  was  by  nature,  by 
Napoleon-nature  ;  and  yet  look  how  in  fact — Here  am 
I :  He  cannot  understand  it ;  inconceivable  that  the 
reality  has  not  corresponded  to  his  programme  of  it ; 
that  France  was  not  all-great ;  that  he  was  not  France. 
"Strong  delusion,"  that  he  should  believe  the  thing 
to  be  which  is  not !  The  compact,  clear-seeing,  Ital 
ian  nature  of  him,  strong,  genuine,  which  he  once 
had,  has  enveloped  itself,  half  dissolved  itself,  in  a 
turbid  atmosphere  of  French  fanfaronade.  The  world 
was  not  disposed  to  be  trodden  down  underfoot,  to  be 
bound  into  masses,  and  built  together,  as  he  liked,  for 
a  pedestal  for  France  and  him  ;  the  world  had  quite 
other  purposes  in  view !  Napoleon's  astonishment  is 
extreme.  But  alas,  what  help  now?  He  had  gone 
that  way  of  his  ;  and  nature  also  had  gone  her  way. 
Having  once  parted  with  reality,  he  tumbles  helpless 
in  vacuity  ;  no  rescue  for  him.  He  had  to  sink  there, 
mournfully  as  men  seldom  did ;  and  break  his  great 
heart,  and  die — this  poor  Napoleon ;  a  great  imple 
ment,  too  soon  wasted,  till  it  was  useless  ;  our  last 
great  man  ! 

THOMAS  CAKLYLH. 

BOOKfc. 

IN  the  best  books,  great  men  talk  to  us,  give  us 
their  most  precious  thoughts,  and  pour  their 
souls  into  ours.  God  be  thanked  for  books  ! 
They  are  the  voices  of  the  distant  and  the  dead, 
and  make  us  heirs  of  the  spiritual  life  of  past  ages. 
Books  are  the  true  levellers.  They  give  to  all  who 
will  faithfully  use  them  the  society,  the  spiritual 
presence,  of  the  best  and  greatest  of  our  race.  No 
matter  how  poor  I  am — no  matter  though  the  prosper 
ous  of  my  own  time  will  not  enter  my  obscure  dwelling 
— if  the  sacred  writers  will  enter  and  take  up  their 
abode  under  my  roof,  if  Milton  will  cross  my  threshold 
to  sing  to  me  of  Paradise,  and  Shakespeare  to  open  to 
nae  the  worlds  of  imagination  and  the  workings  of  the 
human  heart,  and  Franklin  to  enrich  me  with  his 
practical  wisdom — I  shall  not  pine  for  want  of  intel- 


lectual  companionship,  and  I  may  become  a  cultivated 
man,  though  excluded  from  what  is  called  the  best 
society  in  the  place  where  I  live. 

WILLIAM  ELLERY  CHANNING 

HUMILITY. 

HE  only  true  independence  is  in  humility ;  fof 
the  humble  man  exacts  nothing,  and  cannot 
be  mortified — expects  nothing,  and  cannot  be 
disappointed.  Humility  is  also  a  healing 
virtue  ;  it  will  cicatrize  a  thousand  wounds,  which 
pride  would  keep  forever  open.  But  humility  is  not 
the  virtue  of  a  fool :  since  it  is  not  consequent  upon 
any  comparison  between  ourselves  and  others,  but 
between  what  we  are  and  what  we  ought  to  be — 
which  no  man  ever  was. 

WASHINGTON  ALLSTON. 

PORTRAIT    OF  A   DUTCHMAN. 

^T^HE  renowned  Wouter  (or  Walter)  Van  Twiller 
\  I  f  was  descended  from  a  long  line  of  Dutch 

JL  burgomasters,  who  had  successively  dozed 
away  their  lives,  and  grown  fat  upon  the 
bench  of  magistracy  in  Rotterdam,  and  who  had  com 
ported  themselves  with  such  singular  wisdom  and  pro 
priety  that  they  were  never  either  heard  or  talked  of — 
which,  next  to  being  universally  applauded,  should  be 
the  object  of  ambition  of  all  magistrates  and  rulers. 

There  are  two  opposite  ways  by  which  some  men 
make  a  figure  in  the  world  :  one  by  talking  faster  than 
they  think  ;  and  the  other  by  holding  their  tongues 
and  not  thinking  at  all.  By  the  first,  many  a  smat- 
terer  acquires  the  reputation  of  a  man  of  quick  parts ; 
by  the  other,  many  a  dunderpate,  like  the  owl,  the 
stupidest  of  birds,  comes  to  be  considered  the  very 
type  of  wisdom.  This,  by-the-way,  is  a  casual  remark, 
which  I  would  not  for  the  universe  have  it  thought  I 
apply  to  Governor  Van  Twiller.  It  is  true  he  was  a 
man  shut  up  within  himself,  like  an  oyster,  and  rarely 
spoke  except  in  monosyllables ;  but  then  it  was  allowed 
he  seldom  said  a  foolish  thing.  So  invincible  was  his 
gravity  that  he  was  never  known  to  laugh,  or  even  to 
smile,  through  the  whole  course  of  a  long  and  prosper 
ous  life.  Nay,  if  a  joke  were  uttered  in  his  presence 
that  set  light-minded  hearers  in  a  roar,  it  was  observed 
to  throw  him  into  a  state  of  perplexity.  Sometimes 
he  would  deign  to  inquire  into  the  matter ;  and  when, 
after  much  explanation,  the  joke  was  made  as  plain  S.B 
a  pikestaff,  he  would  continue  to  smoke  his  pipe  in 
silence,  and  at  length,  knocking  out  the  ashes,  would 
exclaim,  "Well!  I  see  nothing  in  all  that  to  laugh 
about!" 

The  person  of  this  illustrious  old  gentleman  was 
formed  and  proportioned  as  though  it  had  been 
moulded  by  the  hands  of  some  cunning  Dutch  statuary, 
as  a  model  of  majesty  and  lordly  grandeur.  He  was 
exactly  fire  feet  six  inches  in  height,  and  six  feet  fire 
inches  in  circumference.  Hi*  head  was  a  perfaflt 


676 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


sphere,  and  of  such  stupendous  dimensions,  that  dame 
Nature,  with  all  her  sex's  ingenuity,  would  have  been 
puzzled  to  construct  a  neck  capable  of  supporting  it ; 
wherefore  she  wisely  declined  the  attempt,  and  settled 
it  firmly  on  the  back  of  his  back-bone,  just  between 
the  shoulders.  His  body  was  oblong,  and  particularly 
capacious  at  bottom  ;  which  was  wisely  ordered  by 
Providence,  seeing  that  he  was  a  man  of  sedentary 
habits,  and  very  averse  to  the  idle  labor  of  walking. 
His  legs  were  short,  but  sturdy  in  proportion  to  the 
weight  they  had  to  sustain  ;  so  that  when  erect  he  had 
not  a  little  the  appearance  of  a  beer-barrel  on  skids. 
His  face — that  infallible  index  of  the  mind — presented 
a  vast  expanse,  unfurrowed  by  any  of  those  lines  and 
angles  which  disfigure  the  human  countenance  with 
what  is  termed  expression.  Two  small  gray  eyes 
twinkled  feebly  in  the  midst,  like  two  stars  of  lesser 
magnitude  in  a  hazy  firmament;  and  his  full-fed 
cheeks,  which  seemed  to  have  taken  toll  of  everything 
that  we»t  into  his  mouth,  were  curiously  mottled 
and  streaked  with  dusky  red,  like  a  spitzenberg 
apple. 

His  habits  were  as  regular  as  his  person.  He  daily 
took  his  four  stated  meals,  appropriating  exactly  an 
hour  to  each ;  he  smoked  and  doubted  eight  hours, 
and  he  slept  the  remaining  twelve  of  the  four-and- 
twenty.  Such  was  the  renowned  Wouter  Van  Twiller 
— a  true  philosopher ;  for  his  mind  was  either  elevated 
above,  or  tranquilly  settled  below,  the  cares  and  per 
plexities  of  this  world.  He  had  lived  in  it  for  years, 
without  feeling  the  least  curiosity  to  know  whether  the 
sun  revolved  round  it,  or  it  round  the  sun  ;  and  he 
had  watched,  for  at  least  half  a  century,  the  smoke 
curling  from  his  pipe  to  the  ceiling,  without  once 
troubling  his  head  with  any  of  those  numerous  theories 
by  which  a  philosopher  would  have  perplexed  his 
brain,  in  accounting  for  its  rising  above  the  surround 
ing  atmosphere. 

WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

A  GOOD  DAUGHTER. 

GOOD  daughter ! — there  are  other  ministries 
of  love  more  conspicuous  than  hers,  but  none 
in  which  a  gentler,  lovelier  spirit  dwells,  and 
none  to  which  the  heart's  warm  requitals 
more  joyfully  respond.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a 
comparative  estimate  of  a  parent's  affection  for  one  or 
another  child.  There  is  little  which  he  needs  to  covet, 
to  whom  the  treasure  of  a  good  child  has  been  given. 
But  a  son's  occupations  and  pleasures  carry  him  more 
abroad,  and  he  lives  more  among  temptations,  which 
hardly  permit  the  affection,  that  is  following  him  per 
haps  over  half  the  globe,  to  be  wholly  unmingled  with 
anxiety,  till  vhe  time  when  he  comes  to  relinquish  the 
shelter  of  his  father's  roof  for  one  of  his  own  ;  while  a 
good  daughter  is  the  steady  light  of  her  parent's 
house.  Her  idea  is  indissolubly  connected  with  that 
of  his  happy  fireside.  She  is  his  morning  sunlight  and 
his  evening  star.  The  grace,  and  vivacity,  and  tender 


ness  of  her  sex  have  their  place  in  the  mighty  sway 
which  she  holds  over  his  spirit.  The  lessons  of  re 
corded  wisdom  which  he  reads  with  her  eyes  come  to 
his  mind  with  a  new  charm  as  they  blend  with  the 
beloved  melody  of  her  voice.  He  scarcely  knows 
weariness  which  her  song  does  not  make  him  forget,  or 
gloom  which  is  proof  against  the  young  brightness  of 
her  smiles.  She  is  the  pride  and  ornament  of  his 
hospitality,  and  the  gentle  nurse  of  his  sickness,  and 
the  constant  agent  in  those  nameless,  numberless  acts 
of  kindness,  which  one  chiefly  cares  to  have  rendered 
because  they  are  unpretending,  but  all-expressive 
proofs  of  love. 

And  then  what  a  cheerful  sharer  is  she,  and  what 
an  able  lightener,  of  a  mother's  cares  !  what  an  ever- 
present  delight  and  triumph  to  a  mother's  affection ! 
Oh,  how  little  do  those  daughters  know  of  the  power 
which  God  has  committed  to  them,  and  the  happiness 
God  would  have  them  enjoy,  who  do  not,  every  time 
that  a  parent's  eye  rests  on  them,  bring  rapture  to  a 
parent's  heart !  A  true  love  will  almost  certainly 
always  greet  their  approaching  steps.  That  they  wMl 
hardly  alienate.  But  their  ambition  should  be  not  to 
have  it  a  love  merely  which  feelings  implanted  by 
nature  excite,  but  one  made  intense  and  overflowing 
by  approbation  of  worthy  conduct ;  and  she  is  strangely 
blind  to  her  own  happiness,  as  well  as  undutiful  to 
them  to  whom  she  owes  the  most,  in  whom  the  per 
petual  appeals  of  parental  disinterestedness  do  not  call 
forth  the  prompt  and  full  echo  of  filial  devotion. 

JOHN  GOBHAM  PALFREY. 

CHARACTER  OF   MAJOR  ANDRE. 

HERE  was  something  singularly  interesting  in 
the  character  and  fortunes  of  Andre.  To  at 
excellent  understanding,  well  improved  by 
education  and  travel,  he  united  a  peculiar 
elegance  of  mind  and  manners,  and  the  advantage  of  a 
pleasing  person.  'Tis  said  he  possessed  a  pretty  taste 
for  the  fine  arts,  and  had  himself  attained  some  pro 
ficiency  in  poetry,  music,  and  painting.  His  knowledge 
appeared  without  ostentation,  and  embellished  by  a 
diffidence  that  rarely  accompanies  so  many  talents  and 
accomplishments,  which  left  you  to  suppose  more  than 
appeared.  His  sentiments  were  elevated,  and  inspired 
esteem  ;  they  had  a  softness  that  conciliated  affection. 
His  elocution  was  handsome  ;  his  address  easy,  polite, 
and  insinuating.  By  his  merit,  he  had  acquired  the 
unlimited  confidence  of  his  general,  and  was  making  a 
rapid  progress  in  military  rank  and  reputation.  But 
in  the  height  of  his  career,  flushed  with  new  hopes 
from  the  execution  of  a  project  the  most  beneficial  to 
his  party  that  could  be  devised,  he  was  at  once  pre 
cipitated  from  the  summit  of  prosperity,  and  saw  all 
the  expectations  of  his  ambition  blasted,  and  himself 
ruined. 

The  character  I  have  given  of  him  is  drawn  partly 
from  what  I  saw  of  him  myself,  and  partly  from  in 
formation.  I  am  aware  that  a  man  of  real  merit  10 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


677 


uarer  seen  in  so  favorable  a  light  as  through  the 
medium  of  adversity ;  the  clouds  that  surround  him 
are  shades  that  set  off  his  good  qualities.  Misfortune 
cuts  down  the  little  vanities  that,  in  prosperous  times, 
serve  as  so  many  spots  in  his  virtues,  and  gives  a  tone 
of  humility  that  makes  his  worth  more  amiable.  His 
spectators,  who  enjoy  a  happier  lot,  are  less  prone  to 
detract  from  it  through  envy,  and  are  more  disposed, 
'by  compassion,  to  give  him  the  credit  he  deserves,  and 
perhaps  even  to  magnify  it. 

I  speak  not  of  Andre's  conduct  in  this  affair  as  a 
philosopher,  but  as  a  man  of  the  world.  The  at^her 
ized  maxims  and  practices  of  war  are  the  satii"3S  of 
human  nature.  They  countenance  almost  every  species 
of  seduction  as  well  as  violence ;  and  the  general  who 
can  make  most  traitors  in  the  army  of  his  adversary  is 
frequently  most  applauded.  On  this  scale  we  acquit 
Andre,  while  we  could  not  but  condemn  him  if  we 
were  to  examine  his  conduct  by  the  sober  rules  of 
philosophy  and  moral  rectitude.  It  is,  however,  a 
blemish  on  his  fame  that  he  once  intended  to  prosti 
tute  a  flag  ;  about  this  a  man  of  nice  honor  ought  to 
have  had  a  scruple  ;  but  the  temptation  was  great ;  let 
his  misfortunes  cast  a  veil  over  his  error. 

ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 
OUR    WORLD. 

"fl*  THINK  I  love  and  reverence  all  arts  equally,  only 

i     putting  my  own  just  above  the  others ;  because 
in  it  I  recognize  the  union  and  culmination  of 
them  all.     To  me  it  seems  as  if  when  God  con 
ceived  the  world,  that  was  poetry  ;  He  formed  it,  and 
that  was  Sculpture  ;  He  colored  it,  and  that  was  Paint 
ing  ;  He  peopled  it  with  living  beings,  and  that  was 
che  grand,  divine,  eternal  Drama. 

CHAKLOTTE   CUSHMAN. 

THE    HERO. 

true  hero  is  the  great,  wise  man  of  duty — 
he  whose  soul  is  armed  by  truth  and  supported 
by  the  smile  of  God — he  who  meets  life's 
perils  with  a  cautious  but  tranquil  spirit, 
gathers  strength  by  facing  its  storms,  and  dies,  if  he  is 
called  to  die,  as  a  Christian  victor  at  the  post  of  duty. 
And  if  we  must  have  heroes,  and  wars  where'ni  to 
make  them,  there  is  no  so  brilliant  war  as  a  war  with 
wrong,  no  hero  so  fit  to  be  sung  as  he  who  has  gained 
die  bloodless  victory  of  truth  and  mercy. 

But  if  bravery  be  not  the  same  as  courage,  still  it  is 
l  very  imposing  and  plausible  counterfeit.  The  man 
himself  is  told,  after  the  occasion  is  past,  how  heroic- 
tlly  he  bore  himself,  and  when  once  his  nerves  have 
become  tranquillized,  he  begins  even  to  believe  it. 
Vnd  since  we  cannot  stay  content  in  the  dull,  unin- 
Jpired  world  of  economy  and  work,  we  are  as  ready  to 
Bee  a  hero  as  he  to  be  one.  Nay,  we  must  have  our 
heroes,  as  I  just  said,  and  we  are  ready  to  harness 
ourselves,  by  the  million,  to  any  man  who  will  let  us 
fight  him  out  the  name.  Thus  we  find  out  occasions 


for  war — wrongs  to  be  redressed,  revenges  to  be  taken, 
such  as  we  may  feign  inspiration  and  play  the  great 
heart  under.  We  collect  armies,  and  dress  up  leaders 
in  gold  and  high  colors,  meaning,  by  the  brave  look, 
to  inspire  some  notion  of  a  hero  beforehand.  Theft 
we  set  the  men  in  phalanxes  and  squadrons,  where  the 
personality  itself  is  taken  away,  and  a  vast  impersonal 
person  called  an  army,  a  magnanimous  and  brave 
monster,  is  all  that  remains.  The  masses  of  fierce 
color,  the  glitter  of  steel,  the  dancing  plumes,  the 
vaving  flags,  the  deep  throb  of  the  music  lifting  every 
foot — under  these  the  living  acres  of  men,  possessed, 
by  the  one  thought  of  playing  brave  to-day,  are  rolled 
on  to  battle.  Thunder,  fire,  dust,  blood,  groans — what 
of  these  ? — nobody  thinks  of  these,  for  nobody  claret 
to  think  till  the  day  is  over,  and  then  the  world  re 
joices  to  behold  a  new  batch  of  heroes.  And  this  in 
the  devil's  play,  that  we  call  war. 

HORACE  BUSHNEIX. 
SELF-RELIANCE. 

INSIST  on  yourself ;  never  imitate.  Your  own  gift 
you  can  present  every  moment  with  the  cumula 
tive  force  of  a  whole  life's  cultivation  ;  but  of  the 
adopted  talent  of  another  you  have  only  an  ex 
temporaneous,  half  possession.  That  which  each  can 
do  best,  none  but  his  Maker  can  teach  him.  No  man 
yet  knows  what  it  is,  nor  can,  till  that  person  has  ex 
hibited  it.  Where  is  the  master  who  could  have 
taught  Shakespeare?  Where  is  the  master  who  could 
have  instructed  Franklin,  or  Washing^,  or  Bacon, 
or  Newton?  Every  great  man  is  a  unique.  The 
Scipionisin  of  Scipio  is  precisely  that  part  he  could  not 
borrow.  If  anybody  will  tell  me  whom  the  great  man 
imitates  in  the  original  crisis  when  he  performs  a  great 
act,  I  will  tell  him  who  else  than  himself  can  teach 
him.  Shakespeare  will  never  be  made  by  the  study 
of  Shakespeare.  Do  that  which  is  assigned  thee,  and 
thou  canst  not  hope  too  much  or  dare  too  much. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 

APPEAL  FOR   QUEEN   CAROLINE. 

UGH,  my  lords,  is  the  case  before  you  !  such  is 
the  evidence  in  support  of  this  measure — 
evidence  inadequate  to  prove  a  debt,  impotent 
to  deprive  of  a  civil  right,  ridiculous  to  con 
vict  of  the  lowest  offence,  scandalous,  if  brought  for 
ward  to  support  a  charge  of  the  highest  nature  which 
the  law  knows,  monstrous  to  ruin  the  honor  and  blast 
the  name  of  an  English  queen  !  What  shall  I  say, 
then,  if  this  is  the  proof  by  which  an  act  of  judicial 
legislation,  a  parliamentry  sentence,  an  ex  post  facto 
law,  is  sought  to  be  passed  against  a  defenceless 
woman?  My  lords,  I  pray  you  to  pause;  I  do 
earnestly  beseech  you  to  take  heed.  You  are  standing 
upon  the  brink  of  a  precipice — then  beware  !  It  will 
go  forth  as  your  judgment,  if  sentence  shall  pass 
against  the  queen.  But  it  will  be  the  only  judgwejnt 


678 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


you  ever  pronounced,  which,  instead  of  reaching  us 
object,  will  return  and  bound  back  upon  those  who 
give  it. 

Save  the  country,  my  lords,  from  the  horrors  of  this 
catastrophe — save  yourselves  from  this  peril.  Revere 
that  country  of  which  you  are  the  ornaments,  but  in 
which  you  can  flourish  no  longer,  when  severed  from 
the  people,  than  the  blossom  when  cut  off  from  the 
roots  and  the  stem  of  the  tree.  Save  that  country, 
that  you  may  continue  to  adorn  it ;  save  the  crown, 
•which  is  in  jeopardy,  the  aristocracy,  which  is  shaken  ; 
save  the  altar,  which  must  stagger  with  the  blow  that 
rends  its  kindred  throne  !  You  have  said,  my  lords, 
you  have  willed,  the  church  to  the  queen,  have  willed 
that  she  should  be  deprived  of  its  solemn  service. 
She  has,  instead  of  that  solemnity,  the  heartfelt 
prayers  of  the  people.  She  wants  no  prayers  of  mine. 
But  I  do  here  pour  forth  my  humble  supplication  to 
the  throne  of  mercy,  that  that  mercy  may  be  poured 
down  upon  the  people,  in  a  larger  measure  than  the 
merits  of  its  rulers  may  deserve,  and  that  your  hearts 
may  be  turned  to  justice. 

LORD   BROUGH*1". 

RETURN    OF   COLUMBUS. 

HEAT  was  the  agitation  in  the  little  community 
°f  Palos,  as  they  beheld  the  well-known 
vessel  of  the  admiral  re-entering  their  harbor. 
Their  desponding  imaginations  had  long  since 
consigned  him  to  a  watery  grave  ;  for,  in  addition  to 
the  preternatural  horrors  which  hung  over  the  voyage, 
they  had  experienced  the  most  stormy  and  disastrous 
•winter  within  the  recollection  of  the  oldest  mariners. 
Most  of  them  had  relatives  or  friends  on  board. 
They  thronged  immediately  to  the  shore  to  assure 
themselves  with  their  own  eyes  of  the  truth  of  their 
return.  When  they  beheld  their  faces  once  more,  and 
saw  them  accompanied  by  the  numerous  evidences 
which  they  brought  back  of  the  success  of  the  ex 
pedition,  they  burst  forth  in  acclamations  of  joy  and 
gratulation.  They  awaited  the  landing  of  Columbus, 
when  the  whole  population  of  the  place  accompanied 
him  and  his  crew  to  the  principal  church,  where 
solemn  thanksgivings  were  offered  up  for  their  return  ; 
while  every  bell  in  the  village  sent  forth  a  joyous  peal  in 
honor  of  the  glorious  event. 

The  admiral  was  too  desirous  of  presenting  himself 
before  the  sovereigns,  to  protract  his  stay  long  at  Palos. 
He  took  with  him  on  his  journey  specimens  of  the 
multifarious  products  of  the  newly-discovered  regions. 
He  was  accompanied  by  several  of  the  native  islanders, 
arrayed  in  their  simple  barbaric  costume,  and  decor 
ated,  as  he  passed  through  the  principal  cities,  with 
collars,  bracelets,  and  other  ornaments  of  gold,  rudely 
tashioned.  He  exhibited  also  considerable  quantities 
of  the  same  metal  in  dust,  or  in  crude  masses,  numer 
ous  vegetable  exotics,  possessed  of  aromatic  or  medi 
cinal  virtue,  and  several  kinds  of  quadrupeds  unknown 
in  Europe,  and  birds  whose  varieties  of  gaudy 


prumagc  gave  a  brilliant  effect  to  the  pageant.  Tht 
admiral's  progress  through  the  country  was  every 
where  impeded  by  the  multitudes  thronging  forth  to 
gaze  at  the  extraordinary  spectacle,  and  more  extra 
ordinary  man.  who,  in  the  emphatic  language  of  thai 
time,  which  has  now  lost  its  force  from  its  familiarity, 
first  revealed  the  existence  of  a  "  New  World." 

As  he  passed  through  the  busy,  populous  city  of 
Seville,  every  window,  balcony,  and  housetop,  which 
could  afford  a  glimpse  of  him,  is  described  to  have 
been  crowded  with  spectators.  It  was  the  middle  of 
April  before  Columbus  reached  Barcelona.  The  no 
bility  and  cavaliers  in  attendance  on  the  court,  together 
with  the  authorities  of  the  city,  came  to  the  gates  to 
receive  him,  and  escort  him  to  the  royal  presence. 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  were  seated,  with  their  son, 
Prince  John,  under  a  superb  canopy  of  state,  awaiting 
his  arrival.  On  his  approach,  they  rose  from  their 
seats,  and,  extending  their  hands  to  him  to  salute, 
caused  him  to  be  seated  before  them.  These  were 
unprecedented  marks  of  condescension,  to  a  person 
of  Columbus's  rank,  in  the  haughty  and  ceremonious 
couri  of  Castile.  It  was,  indeed,  the  proudest  mo 
ment  in  the  life  of  Columbus.  He  had  fully  estab 
lished  the  truth  of  his  long-contested  theory,  in  the 
face  of  argument,  sophistry,  sneer,  skepticism,  and 
contempt.  He  had  achieved  this,  not  by  chance,  but 
by  calculation,  supported  through  the  most  adverse 
circumstances  by  consummate  conduct. 

The  honors  paid  him,  which  had  hitherto  been  re 
served  only  for  rank,  or  fortune,  or  military  success, 
purchased  by  the  blood  and  tears  of  thousands,  were, 
in  his  case,  a  homage  to  intellectual  power  successfully 
exeJlx-d  in  behalf  of  the  noblest  interests  of  humanity. 

WILLIAM   HICKLING  PRESCOTT. 

FUTILITY  OF  EFFORTS  TO  STAY 
REFORM. 

f3  HAVE  spoken  so  often  on  this  subject,  that  I  am 

Isure  both  you  and  the  gentlemen  here  present 
will  be  obliged  to  me  for  saying  but  little,  and 
that  favor  I  am  as  willing  to  confer,  as  you  can  be 
to  receive  it.  I  feel  most  deeply  the  event  which  has 
taken  place,  because,  by  putting  the  two  houses  of 
Parliament  in  collision  with  each  other,  it  will  impede 
the  public  business,  and  diminish  the  public  prosperity. 
I  feel  it  as  a  churchman,  because  I  cannot  but  blush  to 
see  so  many  dignitaries  of  the  church  arrayed  against 
the  wishes  and  happiness  of  the  people.  I  feel  it 
more  than  all,  because  I  believe  it  will  sow  the  seeds 
of  deadly  hatred  between  the  aristocracy  and  the 
great  mass  of  i the  people.  The  loss  of  the  bill  I  do 
not  feel,  and  for  the  best  of  all  possible  reasons — be 
cause  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea  it  is  lost.  I  have 
no  more  doubt,  before  the  expiration  of  the  winter, 
that  this  bill  will  pass,  than  I  have  that  the  annual  tax 
bills  will  pass,  and  a  greater  certainty  than  this  no 
man  can  have,  for  Franklin  tells  us,  there  are  but  two 
things  certain  in  this  world — death  and  taxes.  A?  tot 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


679 


«tie  possibility  of  the  House  of  Lords  preventing  ere 
tong  u  reform  of  Parliament,  I  hold  it  to  be  the  most 
absurd  notion  that  ever  entered  into  human  imagina 
tion.  I  do  not  mean  to  be  disrespectful,  but  the 
attempt  of  the  lords  to  stop  the  progress  of  reform 
reminds  me  very  forcibly  of  the  great  storm  of  Sid- 
mouth,  and  of  the  conduct  of  the  excellent  Mrs. 
Partington  on  that  occasion.  In  the  winter  of  1824 
there  set  in  a  great  flood  upon  that  town — the  tide  rose 
to  an  incredible  height — the  waves  rushed  in  upon  the 
houses,  and  everything  was  threatened  with  destruction. 
In  the  midst  of  this  sublime  and  terrible  storm,  Dame 
Partington,  who  lived  upon  the  beach,  was  seen  ai/  the 
door  of  her  house  with  a  mop  and  pattens,  trundling 
her  mop,  squeezing  out  the  sea-water,  and  vigorously 
pushing  away  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  The  Atlantic  was 
roused.  Mrs.  Partington' s  spirit  was  up  ;  but  I  need 
not  tell  you  that  the  contest  was  unequal.  The 
Atlantic  Ocean  beat  Mrs.  Partington.  She  was  excel 
lent  at  a  slop,  or  a  puddle,  but  she  should  not  have 
meddled  with  a  tempest.  Gentlemen,  be  at  your 
ease — be  quiet  and  steady.  You  will  beat  Mrs. 
Partington. 

SYDNEY  SMITH. 


PLEA   OF    SERGEANT    BUZFUZ,   IN 
DELL   VERSUS   PICKWICK." 


BAR- 


TTTHK  plaintiff,  gentlemen,  the  plaintiff  is  a 
\  I  L  widow ;  yes,  gentlemen,  a  widow.  The  late 

JL  Mr.  Bardell,  after  enjoying  for  many  years, 
the  esteem  and  confidence  of  his  sovereign, 
as  one  of  the  guardians  of  his  royal  revenues,  glided 
almost  imperceptibly  from  the  world,  to  seek  else 
where  for  that  repose  and  peace  which  a  custom-house 
can  never  afford.  Some  time  before  his  death  he  had 
stamped  his  likeness  upon  a  little  boy.  With  this 
little  boy,  the  only  pledge  of  her  departed  exciseman, 
Mrs.  Bardell  shrunk  from  the  world,  and  courted  the 
retirement  and  tranquillity  of  Goswell-street ;  and  here 
she  placed  in  her  front  parlor  window  a  written  placard, 
bearing  this  inscription — "Apartments  furnished  for  a 
single  gentleman.  Inquire  within."  I  entreat  the 
attention  of  the  jury  to  the  wording  of  this  document — 
"Apartments  furnished  for  a  single  gentleman!" 
Mrs.  Bardell' s  opinions  of  the  opposite  sex,  gentle 
men,  were  derived  from  a  long  contemplation  of  the 
inestimable  qualities  of  her  lost  husband.  She  had  no 
fear — she  had  no  distrust — she  had  no  suspicion — all 
was  confidence  and  reliance. 

"  Mr.  Bardell,"  said  the  widow ;  "  Mr.  Bardell  was 
a  man  of  honor — Mr.  Bardell  was  a  man  of  his  word — 
Mr.  Bardell  was  no  deceiver — Mr.  Bardell  was  once  a 
single  gentleman  himself ;  to  single  gentlemen  I  look 
for  protection,  for  assistance,  for  comfort,  and  for  con 
solation—in  single  gentlemen  I  shall  perpetually  see 
something  to  remind  me  of  what  Mr.  Bardell  was, 
when  he  first  won  my  young  and  untried  afitvUons  ;  to 


a  single  gentleman,  then,  shall  my  lodgings  be  let'* 
Actuated  by  this  beautiful  and  touching  impuls* 
(among  the  best  impulses  of  our  imperfect  nature, 
gentlemen),  the  lonely  and  desolate  widow  dried  hei 
tears,  furnished  her  first  floor,  caught  her  innocent  boy 
to  her  maternal  bosom,  and  put  the  bill  up  in  her 
parlor  window.  Did  it  remain  there  long  ?  No.  Th« 
serpent  was  on  the  watch,  the  train  was  laid,  the  mint 
was  preparing,  the  sapper  and  miner  was  at  work. 
Before  the  bill  had  been  in  the  parlor  window  thret 
days — three  days,  gentlemen — a  being,  erect  upon  two 
legs,  and  bearing  all  the  outward  semblance  of  a  man. 
and  not  of  a  monster,  knocked  at  the  door  of  Mrs. 
Bardell 's  house.  He  inquired  within ;  he  took  the 
lodgings ;  and  on  the  very  next  day  he  entered  into 
possession  of  them.  This  man  w.as  Pickwick — Pick 
wick,  the  defendant. 

Of  this  man  Pickwick  I  will  say  little  ;  the  subject 
presents  but  few  attractions ;  and  I,  gentlemen,  am 
not  the  man,  nor  are  you,  gentlemen,  the  men  to  de 
light  in  the  contemplation  of  revolting  heartlessness 
and  systematic  villany.  I  say  systematic  villany, 
gentlemen,  and  when  I  say  systematic  villany,  let  me 
tell  the  defendant,  Pickwick,  if  he  be  in  court,  as  I  am 
informed  he  is,  that  it  would  have  been  more  decent 
in  him,  more  becoming,  in  better  judgment,  and  in 
better  taste,  if  he  had  stopped  away.  Let  me  tell 
him,  gentlemen,  that  any  gestures  of  dissent  or  disap 
probation  in  which  he  may  indulge  in  this  court  will 
not  go  down  with  you ;  that  you  will  know  how  to 
value  and  how  to  appreciate  them  ;  and  let  me  tell 
him  further,  as  my  lord  will  tell  you,  gentlemen,  khat 
a  counsel,  in  his  discharge  of  his  duty  to  his  client,  is 
neither  to  be  intimidated,  nor  bullied,  nor  put  down ; 
and  that  any  attempt  to  do  either  the  one  or  the  other, 
or  the  first  or  the  last,  will  recoil  on  the  head  of  the 
attempter,  be  he  plaintiff,  or  be  he  defendant,  be  his 
name  Pickwick,  or  Noakes,  or  Stoakes,  or  Stiles,  01 
Brown,  or  Thompson. 

I  shall  show  you,  gentlemen,  that  for  two  years 
Pickwick  continued  to  reside  constantly,  and  without 
interruption  or  intermission,  at  Mrs.  Bardell's  house. 
I  shall  show  you  that  Mrs.  Bardell,  during  the  whole 
of  that  time,  waited  on  him,  attended  to  his  comforts, 
cooked  his  meals,  looked  out  his  linen  for  the  washer 
woman  when  it  went  abroad,  darned,  aired,  and  pre 
pared  it  for  wear  when  it  came  home,  and,  in  short, 
enjoyed  his  fullest  trust  and  confidence.  I  shall  show 
you  that,  on  many  occasions,  he  gave  half-pence,  and 
on  some  occasions  even  sixpence,  to  her  little  boy ; 
and  shall  prove  to  you,  by  a  witness  whose  testimony 
it  will  be  impossible  for  my  learned  friend  to  weaken 
or  controvert,  that  on  one  occasion  he  patted  the  boy  on 
the  head,  and  after  inquiring  whether  he  had  won  any 
aUey  tors  or  commoneys  lately  (both  of  which  I  under 
stand  to  be  species  of  marbles  much  prized  by  the 
youth  of  this  town),  made  use  of  this  remarkable  ex 
pression — "How  would  you  like  to  have  another 
father?" 

CHAKLKS  DICKENS. 


680 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


TRIAL   OF  WARREN    HASTINGS. 

TTTHE  place  was  worthy  of  such  a  trial.     It  was 
J  I  L     the  great  hall  of  William  Rufus ;    the  hall 

JL  which  had  resounded  with  acclamations  at  the 
inauguration  of  thirty  kings  ;  the  hall  which 
had  witnessed  the  just  sentence  of  Bacon,  and  the  just 
absolution  of  Somers ;  the  hall  where  the  eloquence  of 
Stratford  had  for  a  moment  awed  and  melted  a  vic 
torious  party  inflamed  with  just  lesentment;  the  hall 
where  Charles  had  confronted  the  High  Court  of  Jus 
tice  with  the  placid  courage  which  has  half  redeemed 
his  fame. 

Neither  military  nor  civil  pomp  was  wanting.  The 
avenues  were  lined  with  grenadiers.  The  streets  were 
kept  clear  by  cavalry.  The  gray  old  walls  were  hung 
with  scarlet.  The  long  galleries  were  crowded  by  such 
an  audience  as  rarely  has  excited  the  fears  or  emula 
tion  of  an  orator.  There  were  gathered  together, 
from  all  parts  of  a  great,  free,  enlightened  and  pros 
perous  realm,  grace  and  female  loveliness,  wit  and 
learning,  the  representatives  of  every  science  and 
every  art.  There  were  seated  around  the  queen  the 
fair-haired  daughters  of  the  house  of  Brunswick. 
There  the  ambassadors  of  great  kings  and  common 
wealths  gazed  with  admiration  on  a  spectacle  which 
no  other  country  in  the  world  could  present.  There 
Siddons,  in  the  prime  of  her  majestic  beauty,  looked 
with  emotion  on  a  scene  surpassing  all  the  imitations 
of  the  stage.  There  the  historian  of  the  Roman  Em- 
rjire  thought  of  the  days  when  Cicero  pleaded  the 
cause  of  Sicily  against  Verres ;  and  when,  before  a 
Senate  which  had  still  some  show  of  freedom,  Tacitus 
thundered  against  the  oppressor  of  Africa.  There 
were  seen,  side  by  side,  the  greatest  painter  and  the 
greatest  scholar  of  the  age. 

The  spectacle  had  allured  Reynolds  from  that  easel 
which  has  preserved  to  us  the  thoughtful  foreheads  of 
so  many  writers  and  statesmen  and  the  sweet  smiles  of 
so  many  noble  matrons.  It  had  induced  Parr  to  sus 
pend  his  labors  in  that  dark  and  profound  mine  from 
which  he  had  extracted  a  vast  treasure  of  erudition — 
a  treasure  too  often  buried  in  the  earth,  too  often 
paraded  with  injudicious  and  ine^gant  ostentation ; 
but  still  precious,  massive  and  splendid.  There  ap 
peared  the  voluptuous  charms  of  her  to  whom  the 
heir  of  the  throne  had  in  secret  plighted  his  faith. 
There,  too,  was  she,  the  beautiful  mother  of  a  beauti 
ful  race,  the  Saint  Cecilia,  whose  delicate  features, 
lighted  up  by  love  and  music,  art  has  rescued  from  the 
common  decay.  There  were  the  members  of  that 
brilliant  society  which  quoted,  criticised  and  exchanged 
repartees,  under  the  rich  peacock  hangings  of  Mrs. 
Montague.  And  there  the  ladies,  whose  lips,  more 
persuasive  than  those  of  Fox  himself,  had  carried  the 
Westminster  election  against  palace  and  treasury, 
shone  around  Georgiana,  Duchess  of  Devonshire. 

There  stood  Fox  and  Sheridan,  the  English  Demos 
thenes  and  the  English  Hyperides.  There  was  Burke, 
ignorant,  indeed,  of  the  art  of  adapting  his  reason 


ings  and  hk  style  to  the  capacity  of  his  hearers  ,  baft 
in  aptitude  of  comprehension  and  richness  of  imagina 
tion  superior  to  every  orator,  ancient  ot  modem. 

LORD    MACAl  LAY. 

PERORATION    IN   THE  ORATION  AGAINST 
WARREN    HASTINGS. 


ffi 


Y  lords,  at  this  awful  close,  in  the  name  of 
the  Commons,  and  surrounded  by  them,  L 
attest  the  retiring,  I  attest  the  advancing 
generations,  between  which,  as  a  link  in 
the  great  chain  of  eternal  order,  we  stand.  We  call 
this  nation,  we  call  the  world  to  witness,  that  the  Com 
mons  have  shrunk  from  no  labor  ;  that  we  have  been 
guilty  of  no  prevarication ;  that  we  have  made  no 
compromise  with  crime ;  that  we  have  feared  no 
odium  whatsoever  in  the  long  warfare  we  have  carried 
on  with  the  crimes — with  the  vices — with  the  exorbi 
tant  wealth — with  the  enormous  and  overpowering  hv 
fluence  of  Eastern  corruption.  This  war,  my  lords, 
we  have  waged  for  twenty-two  years,  and  the  conflict 
has  been  fought,  at  your  lordship's  bar,  for  the  last 
seven  years. 

My  lords,  twenty-two  years  is  a  great  space  in  the 
scale  of  the  life  of  man  ;  it  is  no  inconsiderable  space  in 
the  history  of  a  great  nation.  A  business  which  has  so 
long  occupied  the  councils  and  the  tribunals  of  Great 
Britain  cannot  possibly  be  huddled  over  in  the  course 
of  vulgar,  trite  and  transitory  events.  Nothing  but 
some  of  those  great  revolutions,  that  break  the  tra 
ditionary  chain  of"  iiuman  memory,  and  alter  the  very 
face  of  nature  itself,  can  possibly  obscure  it.  My  lords, 
we  are  all  elevated  to  a  degree  of  importance  by  it ; 
the  meanest  of  us  will,  by  means  of  it,  more  or  less, 
become  the  concern  of  posterity — if  we  are  yet  to  hope 
for  such  a  thing,  in  the  present  state  of  the  world,  as 
a  recording,  retrospective,  civilized  posterity  ;  but  this 
is  in  the  hand  of  the  great  Disposer  of  events ;  it  is 
not  ours  to  settle  how  it  shall  be.  My  lords,  your 
house  yet  stands  ;  it  stands  as  a  great  ediflce  ;  but  let 
me  say,  it  stands  in  the  midst  of  ruins — in  the  midst 
of  the  ruins  that  have  been  made  by  the  greatest 
moral  earthquake  that  ever  convulsed  or  shattered  this 
globe  of  ours. 

My  lords,  it  has  pleased  Providence  to  place  us  in 
such  a  state,  that  we  appear  every  moment  to  be  upon 
the  verge  of  some  great  mutations.  There  is  one  thing 
and  onethingonly,  which  defies  all  mutation,  that  which 
existed  before  the  world,  and  will  survive  the  fabric  of 
the  world  itself— I  mean  justice  :  that  justice  which, 
emanating  from  Divinity,  has  a  place  in  the  breast  of 
every  one  of  us,  given  us  for  our  guide  with  regard  to 
ourselves  and  with  regard  to  others,  and  which  will 
stand,  after  this  globe  is  burned  to  ashes,  our  advocate 
or  our  accuser  before  the  great  Judge,  when  He  comes 
to  call  upon  us  for  the  tenor  of  a  well- spent  life. 

My  lords,  if  you  must  fall,  may  you  so  fall !  but  if 
you  stand — and  stand  I  trust  you  will — together  with 
the  fortune  of  this  ancient  monarchy — together  with 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


681 


the  ancient  laws  and  liberties  of  this  great  and  illustrious 
kingdom — may  you  stand  as  unimpeached  in  honor  as 
in  power  ;  may  you  stand,  not  as  a  substitute  for  vir 
tue,  but  as  an  ornament  of  virtue,  as  a  security  for 
virtue  ;  may  you  stand  long,  and  long  stand  the  terror 
of  tyrants ;  may  you  stand  the  refuge  of  afflicted 
nations  ;  may  you  stand  a  sacred  temple,  for  the  per 
petual  residence  of  an  inviolable  justice. 

EDMUND  BORKE. 


UNIVERSALITY   OF  CONSCIENCE 

T"T7 HIS  theology  of  conscience  has  been  greatly 
\  I  I  obscured,  but  never,  in  any  country,  or  ai  any 
JL  period  in  the  history  of  the  world,  has  it  been 
wholly  obliterated.  We  behold  the  vestiges 
of  it  in  the  simple  theology  of  the  desert ;  and,  per 
haps,  more  distinctly  there,  than  in  the  complex 
superstitions  of  an  artificial  and  civilized  heathenism. 
In  confirmation  of  this,  we  might  quote  the  invoca 
tions  to  the  Great  Spirit  from  the  wilds  of  North 
America.  But,  indeed,  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe, 
where  missionaries  have  held  converse  with  savages, 
even  with  the  rudest  of  nature's  children — when  speak 
ing  on  the  topics  of  sin  and  judgment,  they  did  not 
speak  to  them  in  vocables  unknown.  And  as  this 
sense  of  a  universal  law  and  a  Supreme  Lawgiver 
never  waned  into  total  extinction  among  the  tribes  of 
ferocious  and  untamed  wanderers — so  neither  was  it 
altogether  stifled  by  the  refined  and  intricate  poly 
theism  of  more  enlightened  nations.  When  the 
guilty  Emperors  of  Rome  were  tempest-driven  by 
remorse  and  fear,  it  was  not  that  they  trembled  before 
a  spectre  of  their  own  imagination.  When  terror 
mixed,  which  it  often  did,  with  the  rage  and  cruelty 
of  Nero,  it  was  the  theology  of  conscience  which 
haunted  him.  It  was  not  the  suggestion  of  a  capri 
cious  fancy  which  gave  him  the  disturbance — but  a 
voice  issuing  from  the  deep  recesses  of  a  moral  nature, 
as  stable  and  uniform  throughout  the  species  as  is  the 
material  structure  of  humanity  ;  and  in  the  lineaments 
of  which  we  may  read  that  there  is  a  moral  regimen 
among  men,  and  therefore  a  moral  governor  who  hath 
instituted,  and  who  presides  over  it.  Therefore  it  was 
that  these  imperial  despots,  the  worst  and  haughtiest 
of  recorded  monarchs,  stood  aghast  at  the  spectacle  of 
their  own  worthlessness. 

This  is  not  a  local  or  a  geographical  notion.  It  is  a 
universal  feeling — to  be  found  wherever  men  are 
found,  because  interwoven  with  the  constitution  of 
humanity.  It  is  not,  therefore,  the  peculiarity  of  one 
creed  or  of  one  country.  It  circulates  at  large 
throughout  the  family  of  man.  We  can  trace  it  in 
the  theology  of  savage  life  ;  nor  is  it  wholly  overborne 
by  the  artificial  theology  of  a  more  complex  and  idola 
trous  paganism.  Neither  crime  nor  civilization  can 
extinguish  it;  and,  whether  in  the  "conscientia 
scelerum  "  of  the  fierce  and  frenzied  Catiline,  or  in 
the  tranquil  contemplative  musings  of  Socrates  and 


Cicero,  we  fina  the  impression  of  at  once  a  righteous 
and  reigning  Sovereign. 

THOMAS  CHALMERS. 

ON   PARLIAMENTARY  REFORM. 

IT  is  asked,  whether  liberty  has  not  gained  much  of 
late  years,  and  whether  the  popular  branch  ought 
not  therefore  to  be  content?  To  this,  I  answer, 
that,  if  liberty  has  gained  much,  power  ha? 
gained  more.  Power  has  been  indefatigable,  and 
unwearied  in  its  encroachments  ;  everything  has  run  in 
that  direction  through  the  whole  course  of  the  present 
reign.  Nothing,  therefore,  I  say,  has  been  gained  to 
the  people,  whilst  the  constant  current  has  run  toward* 
the  crown  ;  and  God  knows  what  is  to  be  the  conse 
quence,  both  to  the  crown  and  the  country.  I  believa 
we  are  come  to  the  last  moment  of  possible  remedy. 
I  believe  that  at  this  moment  the  enemies  of  both  are 
few  ;  but  I  firmly  believe,  that  what  has  been  seen  in 
Ireland,  will  be  experienced  also  here ;  and  that,  if 
we  are  to  go  in  the  same  career  with  convention  bills 
and  acts  of  exasperation  of  all  kinds,  the  few  will  soon 
become  the  many,  and  that  we  shall  have  to  pay  a 
severe  retribution  for  our  present  pride. 

What  a  noble  lord  said  some  time  ago  of  France, 
may  be  applicable  to  this  very  subject.  What,  said 
he,  negotiate  with  France  ?  With  men,  whose  hands 
are  reeking  with  the  blood  of  their  sovereign  ?  What, 
shall  we  degrade  ourselves  by  going  to  Paris,  and  there 
asking  in  humble  diplomatic  language  to  be  on  good 
understanding  with  them  ?  Gentlemen  will  remember 
these  lofty  words;  and  yet  we  have  come  to  this 
humiliation  ;  we  have  negotiated  with  France  !  and  I 
shall  not  be  surprised  to  see  the  noble  lord  himself 
going  to  Paris,  not  at  the  head  of  his  regiment,  but  on 
a  diplomatic  commission  to  those  very  regicides,  to 
pray  to  be  on  a  good  understanding  with  them.  Shall 
we  then  be  blind  to  the  lessons,  which  the  events  of 
the  world  exhibit  to  our  view  ?  Pride,  obstinacy,  and 
insult,  must  end  in  concessions,  and  those  concessions 
must  be  humble  in  proportion  to  our  unbecoming 
pride. 

CHARLES  JAMES  FOX. 

DEMAND    FOR  JUSTICE    TO   IRELAND. 

IWILL  never  be  guilty  of  the  crime  of  despairing 
of  my  country ;  and  to-day,  after  two  centuries 
of  suffering,  here  I  stand  amidst  you  in  this  haft, 
repeating  the  same  complaints,   demanding  the 
same  justice  which  was  claimed  by  our  fathers  ;  but  no 
longer  with  the  humble  voice  of  the  suppliant,  but 
with   the   sentiment  of  our  force  and  the  conviction 
that  Ireland  will  henceforth  find  means  to  do,  without 
you,  what  you  shall  have  refused  to  do  for  her !    I 
make   no  compromise   with  you ;  I  want  the  same 
rights  for  us  that  you  enjoy ;  the  same  municipal 
system  for  Ireland  as  for  England  and  Scotland  :  other 
wise,  what  is  a  union  with  you  ?    A  union  upon  parch- 


682 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


Bient  t    Well,  we  will  tear  this  parchment  to  pieces, 
and  the  Empire  will  be  sundered  ! 

I  hear,  day  after  day,  the  plaintive  voice  of  Ireland, 
crying,  Am  I  to  be  kept  forever  waiting  and  forever 
suffering  ?  No,  fellow-countrymen,  you  will  be  left  to 
suffer  no  longer :  you  will  not  have  in  vain  asked 
justice  from  a  people  of  brothers.  England  is  no 
longer  that  country  of  prejudices  where  the  mere 
name  of  popery  excited  every  breast  and  impelled  to 
iniquitous  cruelties.  The  representatives  of  Ireland 
have  carried  the  Reform  bill,  which  has  enlarged  the 
franchises  of  the  English  people  ;  they  will  be  heard 
with  favor  in  asking  their  colleagues  to  render  justice 
to  Ireland.  But  should  it  prove  otherwise,  should 
Parliament  still  continue  deaf  to  our  prayer,  then  we 
will  appeal  to  the  English  nation,  and  if  the  nation 
too  should  suffer  itself  to  be  blinded  by  its  prejudices, 
we  will  enter  the  fastnesses  of  our  mountains  and  take 
counsel  but  of  our  energy,  our  courage,  and  our 
despair. 

DANIEL  O'CONNELL. 


DEFENCE  FROM  THE  CHARGE  OF 
TYRANNY. 


®  I  © 


THEY  call  me  a  tyrant !  If  I  were  so,  they 
would  fall  at  my  feet :  I  should  have  gorged 
them  with  gold,  assured  them  of  impunity  to 
their  crimes,  and  they  would  have  worshipped 
me.  Had  I  been  so,  the  kings  whom  we  have  con 
quered  would  have  been  my  most  cordial  supporters. 
It  is  by  the  aid  of  scoundrels  you  arrive  at  tyranny. 
Whither  tend  those  who  combat  them  ?  To  the  tomb 
and  immortality !  Who  is  the  tyrant  that  protects 
me  ?  What  is  the  faction  to  which  I  belong  ?  It  is 
yourselves !  What  is  the  party  which,  since  the  com 
mencement  of  the  Revolution,  has  crushed  all  other 
factions — has  annihilated  so  many  specious  traitors  ? 
It  is  yourselves ;  it  is  the  people  ;  it  is  the  force  of 
principles  !  This  is  the  party  to  which  I  am  devoted, 
and  against  which  crime  is  everywhere  leagued.  I  am 
ready  to  lay  down  my  life  without  regret.  I  have 
seen  the  past :  I  foresee  the  future.  What  lover  of 
his  country  would  wish  to  live,  when  he  can  no  longer 
succor  oppressed  innocence  ?  Why  should  he  desire 
to  remain  in  an  order  of  things  where  intrigue 
eternally  triumphs  over  truth — where  justice  is  deemed 
an  imposture — where  the  vilest  passions,  the  most 
ridiculous  fears,  fill  every  heart,  instead  of  the  sacred 
interests  of  humanity?  Who  can  bear  the  punish 
ment  of  seeing  the  horrible  succession  of  traitors, 
more  or  less  skilful  in  concealing  their  hideous  vices 
under  the  mask  of  virtue,  and  who  will  leave  to 
posterity  the  difficult  task  of  determining  which  was 
the  most  atrocious  ? 

In  contemplating  the  multitude  of  vices  which  the 
Revolution  has  let  loose  pell-mell  with  the  civic 
virtues,  I  own  I  sometimes  fear  that  I  myself  shall  be 
sullied  in  the  eyes  of  posterity  by. their  calumnies. 
But  1  am  consoled  by  the  reflection  that,  if  I  have 


seen  in  history  all  the  defenders  of  liberty  ore*, 
whelmed  by  calumny.  I  have  seen  their  oppressors  die 
also.  The  good  and  the  bad  disappear  alike  from  the 
earth ;  but  in  very  different  conditions.  No,  Chau 
mette !  "Death  is  not  an  eternal  sleep!" — Citizens, 
efface  from  the  tombs  that  maxim,  engraven  by 
sacrilegious  hands,  which  throws  a  funeral  pall  over 
nature,  which  discourages  oppressed  innocence  :  write 
rather,  "Death  is  the  commencement  of  immortality !" 
I  leave  to  the  oppressors  of  the  people  a  terrible 
legacy,  which  well  becomes  the  situation  in  which  I 
am  placed  ;  it  is  the  awful  truth,  "Thou  shalt  die  ! " 

ROBESPIERRE. 

THE   CRATER    OF   VESUVIUS. 

TTTHE  first  thing  that  I  came  upon  here  was  the 
A  I  L  great  crater  of  the  eruption  of  1794 — now 

J.  dry  and  scorious,  and  black  as  a  bosom  in 
which  sensual  passion  has  burnt  itself  to  ex 
haustion.  Though  crusted  over  and  closed,  it  was 
steaming  and  smoking  through  sundry  apertures. 
Traversing  it,  I  arrived  at  the  large  crater  of  1 850— a 
still  raw  and  open  ulcer  of  earth.  The  wind  was 
blowing  from  us,  and  the  circumstances  were  favorable 
for  viewing  the  cavity.  It  was  filled  with  a  dense 
volume  of  white  gas,  which  was  whirling  and  rapidly 
ascending  ;  but  the  breeze  occasionally  drove  it  to  the 
opposite  side  and  disclosed  the  depths  of  the  frightful 
chasm.  It  descended  a  prodigious  distance,  in  the 
shape  of  an  inverted,  truncated  cone,  and  then  termi 
nated  in  a  circular  opening. 

The  mysteries  of  the  profound  immensity  beyond, 
no  human  eye  might  see,  no  human  heart  conceive. 
We  hurled  some  stones  into  the  gulf  and  listened  till 
they  struck  below.  The  guide  gravely  assured  me 
that  ten  minutes  elapsed  before  the  sound  was  heard ; 
I  found,  by  the  watch,  that  the  interval  was,  in  reality, 
something  over  three-quarters  of  a  minute  ; — and  that 
seems  almost  incredibly  long.  When  the  vapor,  at 
intervals,  so  far  thinned  away  that  one  could  see 
across,  as  through  a  vista,  the  opposite  side  of  the 
crater,  viewed  athwart  the  mist,  seemed  several  miles 
distant,  though  in  fact  but  a  few  hundred  feet.  The 
interior  of  the  shelving  crater  was  entirely  covered 
over  with  a  bed  of  knob-like  blossoms  of  brilliant 
white,  yellow,  green,  red,  brown — the  sulphurous 
flowers  of  hell. 

I  cannot  describe  this  spectacle,  for,  in  impression 
and  appearance,  alike,  it  resembles  nothing  else  that  I 
have  seen  before  or  since.  It  was  like  death — which 
has  no  similitudes  in  life.  It  was  like  a  vision  of  the 
second  death.  As  the  sun  gleamed  at  times  through 
the  white  breath  that  swayed  and  twisted  about  the 
maw  of  the  accursed  monstrosity,  there  seemed  to  be 
an  activity  in  the  vaulted  depth  ;  but  it  was  the 
activity  of  shadows  in  the  concave  of  nothingness.  It 
seemed  the  emblem  of  destruction,  itself,  extinct. 
There  was  something  about  it  revoltingly  beautiful,  dis 
gustingly  splendid.  One  while,  its  circling  rim  looked! 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


683 


£ke  the  parched  shore  of  the  ever-absorbing  and  ever- 
empty  sea  of  annihilation.  Another  while,  it  seemed 
like  a  fetid  cancer  on  the  breast  of  earth,  destined  one 
day  to  consume  it.  To  me  it  was  purely  uncomfortable 
and  wholly  uninspiring.  It  seemed  to  freeze  back  fancy 
and  sentiment  to  their  sources.  It  was  not  terrible,  it 
was  merely  horrible.  It  is  a  thing  to  see  once,  but  I 
eare  not  to  see  such  a  thing  again  in  this  world  ;  and 
Jesus  grant  that  I  may  see  nothing  like  it  in  the  next. 

HORACE  B.  WALLACE. 

ON   THE   FUNERAL   OF   HENRIETTA. 

ris  not  surprising  that  the  memory  of  a  great 
queen — the  daughter,  the  wife,   the  mother  of 
monarchs — should  attract  you  from  all  quarters 
to  this  melancholy  ceremony  ;  it  will  bring  forcibly 
before  your  eyes  one  of  those  awful  examples  which 
demonstrate  to  the  world  the  vanity  of  which  i*  ;s  com 
posed. 

You  will  see  in  her  single  life  the  extremes  of  things : 

felicity  without  bounds,  miseries  without  parallel ;  a 

Jong  and  peaceable  enjoyment  of  one  of  the  most  noble 

crowns  in  the  universe — all  that  birth  and  grandeur 

could  confer  that  was  glorious — all  that  adversity  and 

suffering  could  accumulate  that  was  disastrous ;  the 

good  cause  attended  at  first  with  some  success,  then 

involved  in  the  most  dreadful  disasters.     Revolutions 

Unheard  of,  rebellion  long  restrained,  at  length  reigned 

triumpl'-tnt ;  no  curb  there  to  license,  no  laws  in  force. 

Majesty   itself  violated  by  bloody  hands — usurpation 

and  t>  ,-anny,  under  the  name  of  liberty — a  fugitive 

<\aeen,  who  can  find  no  retreat  in  her  three  kingdoms, 

\tid  was    forced    to    seek  in    her    native  country  a 

melancholy    exile.       Nine    sea-voyages    undertaken 

gainst  her  will  by  a  queen,  in  spite  of  wintry  tempests 

-a  throne  unworthily  overturned,  and  miraculously 

e-established. 

Behold  the  lesson  which  God  has  given  to  kings  ! 
4ms  does  He  manifest  to  the  world  the  nothingness 
if  its  pomp  and  grandeur.  If  our  words  fail,  if  lan- 
juase  sinks  beneath  the  grandeur  of  such  a  subject, 
the  simple  narrative  is  more  touching  than  aught  that 
words  can  convey.  The  heart  of  a  great  queen, 
formerly  elevated  by  so  long  a  course  of  prosperity, 
(hen  steeped  in  all  the  bitterness  of  affliction,  will 
speak  in  sufficiently  touching  language  ;  and  if  it  is  not 
given  to  private  individuals  to  teach  the  proper  lessons 
from  so  mournful  a  catastrophe,  the  King  of  Israel 
has  supplied  the  words — "Hear.  0  ye  great  of  the 
.-arth  '  Take  lesson,  ye  rulers  of  the  world  ! ' ' 

SUET. 


HAVE  somewhere  read  of  a  regiment  ordered  to 
march  into  a  small  town,  and  take  it.     I  think  it 
was   in    the    Tyrol ;    but,    wherever   it   was,   it 
chanced   that  the  place  was  settled  by  a  colony 
*ho  believed  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  and  proved  their 


faith  by  works.  A  courier  from  a  neighboring  village 
informed  them  that  troops  were  advancing  to  take  the 
town.  They  quietly  answered,  ' '  If  tkay  will  tak«  it, 
they  must"  Soldiers  soon  came  riding  in,  with  colors 
flying,  and  fifes  piping  their  shrill  defiance.  Thej 
looked  around  for  an  enemy,  and  saw  the  farmer  at 
his  plough,  the  blacksmith  at  his  anvil,  and  the 
women  at  their  churns  and  spinning-wheels.  Babies 
crowed  to  hear  the  music,  and  boys  ran  out  to  see 
the  pretty  trainers,  with  feathers  and  bright  buttons — 
14 the  harlequins  of  the  nineteenth  century."  Of 
course  none  of  these  were  in  a  proper  position  to  be 
shot  at.  "Where  are  your  soldiers?"  they  asked. 
"We  have  none,"  was  the  brief  reply.  "But  we 
have  come  to  take  the  town."  "Well,  friends,  it  lies 
before  you. "  "  But  is  there  nobody  here  to  fight  ?  " 
"  No  :  we  are  all  Christians." 

Here  was  an  emergency  altogether  unprovided  for — 
a  sort  of  resistance  which  no  bullet  could  hit,  a  fortress 
perfectly  bomb-proof.  The  commander  was  perplexed. 
"  If  there  is  nobody  to  fight  with,  of  course  we  cannot 
fight,"  said  he  :  "  it  is  impossible  to  take  such  a  town 
as  this."  So  he  ordered  the  horses'  heads  to  be 
turned  about,  and  they  carried  the  human ^uiimals  out 
of  the  village  as  guiltless  as  they  entered,  and  per 
chance  somewhat  wiser. 

This  experiment,  on  a  small  scale,  indicates  how 
i  easy  it  would  be  to  dispense  with  armies  and  navies, 
!  if  men  only  had  faith  in  the  religion  they  profess  to 
believe. 

LYDIA  MARIA  CHILD. 

JOHN   DAVENPORT'S   INFLUENCE   UPON 
NEW   HAVEN. 

pF  we  of  this  city  enjoy,  in  this  respect,  any  peculia* 
privileges — if  it  is  a  privilege  that  any  poor  man 
A  here,  with  ordinary  health  in  hie  family,  and  the 
ordinary  blessing  of  God  upon  his  industry,  may 
give  to  his  son,  without  sending  him  away  from  home, 
the  best  education  which  the  country  affords — if  it  ia 
a  privilege  to  us  to  live  in  a  city  in  which  learning, 
sound  and  thorough  education,  is,  equally  with  com 
merce  and  the  mechanic  arts,  a  great  public  interest — 
if  it  is  a  privilege  to  us  to  record  among  our  fellow- 
citizens  some  of  the  brightest  names  in  the  learning 
and  science,  not  of  our  country  only,  but  of  the  age, 
and  to  be  conversant  with  such  men,  and  subject  to 
their  constant  influence  in  the  various  relations  of 
society — if  it  is  a  privilege  that  our  young  mechanics, 
in  their  associations,  can  receive  instruction  in  popular 
lectures  from  the  most  accomplished  teachers — if,  in  a 
word,  there  is  any  privilege  in  having  our  home  at  one 
of  the  fountains  of  life  for  this  vast  confederacy — the 
privilege  may  be  traced  to  the  influence  of  John 
Davenport,  to  the  peculiar  character  which  he.  more 
than  any  other  man,  gave  to  this  community  in  its 
very  beginning.  Every  one  of  us  is  daily  enjoying 
the  effects  of  his  wisdom  and  public  spirit.  Thus  he 
is  to-day  our  benefactor ;  and  thus  he  is  to  be  the 


684 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


benefactor  of  our  posterity  through  ages  to  come. 
How  aptly  might  that  beautiful  apostrophe  of  one  of 
our  poets  have  been  addressed  to  him  : — 

*'  The  good  begun  by  thee  shall  onward  flow 
In  many  a  branching  stream,  and  wider  grow ; 
The  seed  that  in  these  few  and  fleeting  hours, 
'i'hy  hands,  unsparing  and  unwearied,  sow, 
Shall  deck  thy  grave  with  amaranthine  flowers, 
Ai*d  yield  thee  fruit  divine  in  heaven's  immortal 
bowers.' ' 

LEONARD  BACON. 

WRONGS  OF  IRELAND. 

EREAFTER,  when  these  things  shall  be  his 
tory,  your  age  of  thraldom  and  poverty,  your 
sudden  resurrection,  commercial  redress,  and 
miraculous  armament,  shall  the  historian  stop 
4o  declare,  that  here  the  principal  men  amongst  us  fell 
into  mimic  traces  of  gratitude  :  they  were  awed  by  a 
weak  ministry,  and  bribed  by  an  empty  treasury  ;  and 
when  liberty  was  within  their  grasp,  and  the  temple 
opened  her  folding-doors,  and  the  arms  of  the  people 
clanged,  and  the  zeal  of  the  nation  urged  and  en 
couraged  them  on,  that  they  fell  down,  and  were 
prostituted  at  the  threshold. 

I  will  not  be  answered  by  a  public  lie  in  the  shape 
of  an  amendment :  neither,  speaking  for  the  subjects' 
freedom,  am  I  to  hear  of  faction.  I  wish  for  nothing 
but  to  breathe  in  this  our  island,  in  common  with  my 
fellow-subjects,  the  air  of  liberty ;  I  have  no  ambition, 
unless  it  be  the  ambition  to  break  your  chains,  and 
contemplate  your  glory.  I  never  will  be  satisfied 
as  long  as  the  meanest  cottager  in  Ireland  has  a  link 
of  British  chain  clanking  in  his  rags  :  he  may  be  naked, 
he  shall  not  be  in  irons.  And  I  do  see  the  time  is  at 
band,  the  spirit  is  gone  forth,  the  declaration  is 
planted  :  and  though  great  men  should  apostatize,  yet 
the  cause  will  live  :  and  though  the  public  speaker 
should  die.  yet  the  immortal  fire  shall  outlast  the 
organ  which  conveyed  it,  and  the  breath  of  liberty, 
like  the  word  of  the  holy  man,  shall  not  die  with  the 
prophet,  but  survive  him. 

HENRY  GRATTAN. 


THE  RURAL  DISTRICTS  OUR  COUNTRY'S 
STRENGTH. 

E  importance  of  the  progress  and  improve- 
ment  of  the  country  towns  is  plain,  when  we 
consider  that  here,  and  not  in  the  great  cities 
— New  York,  or  Boston,  or  Philadelphia — 
are  the  hope,   strength,   and  glory  of   our    nation. 
Here,  in  the  smaller  towns  and  villages,  are  indeed  the 
majority  of  the  people,  and  here  there  is  a  weight  of 
sober  thought,  just  judgment,  and  virtuous  feeling, 
that  will  serve  as  rudder  and  ballast  to  our  country, 
Whatever  weather  may  betide. 
As  I  have  so  recently  travelled  through  some  of  the 


inest  and  most  renowned  portions  of  the  European 
continent,  I  find  myself  constantly  comparing  the 
towns  and  villages  which  I  see  here  with  those  foreign 
ands.  One  thing  is  clear,  that  there  are  in  continental 
Europe  no  such  country  towns  and  villages  as  those 
of  New  England  and  some  other  portions  of  this 
country.  Not  only  the  exterior  but  the  interior  is 
totally  different.  The  villages  there  resemble  the 
•qualid  suburbs  of  a  city  ;  the  people  are  like  their 
bouses — poor  and  subservient — narrow  in  intellect, 
feeling,  and  habits  of  thought.  I  know  twenty  towns 
in  France,  having  from  two  to  ten  thousand  inhab 
itants,  where,  if  you  except  the  prefects,  mayors, 
notaries,  and  a  few  other  persons  in  each  place,  there 
is  scarcely  a  family  that  rises  to  the  least  independence 
of  thought,  or  even  a  moderate  elevation  of  character. 
All  the  power,  all  the  thought,  all  the  genius,  all  the 
expanse  of  intellect,  are  centered  at  Paris.  The  blood 
of  the  country  is  drawn  to  this  seat  and  centre, 
leaving  the  limbs  and  members  cold  and  pulseless  as 
those  of  a  corpse. 

How  different  is  it  in  this  country  !  The  life,  vigor, 
power  of  these  United  States  are  diffused  through  a 
thousand  veins  and  arteries  over  the  whole  people, 
every  limb  nourished,  every  member  invigorated  I 
New  York,  Philadelphia,  and  Boston  do  not  give  law 
to  this  country  ;  that  comes  from  the  people — the 
farmers,  mechanics,  manufacturers,  merchants — in 
dependent  in  their  circumstances,  and  sober,  religious, 
virtuous  in  their  habits  of  thought  and  conduct.  I 
make  allowance  for  the  sinister  influence  of  vice  which 
abounds  in  some  places ;  for  the  debasing  effects  of 
demagogisia  in  our  politicians  ;  for  the  corruption  of 
selfish  and  degrading  interests,  cast  into  the  general 
current  of  public  feeling  and  opinion.  I  admit  that 
these  sometimes  make  the  nation  swerve,  for  a  time, 
from  the  path  of  wisdom  ;  but  the  wandering  is 
neither  wide  nor  long.  The  preponderating  national 
mind  is  just  and  sound,  and,  if  danger  comes,  it  will 
manifest  its  power  and  avert  it. 

SAMUEL  Q    GOODKICH. 


LIFE  ON  THE  NILE. 


¥ 


The  life  thou  seek'st 
Thon'H  find  beside  the  eternal  Nile. 

MOORE'S  ALCIPHR9H. 

E  Nile  is  the  Paradise  of  travel.  I  thought 
I  had  already  fathomed  all  the  depths  of 
enjoyment  which  the  traveller's  restless  life 
could  reach  —  enjoyment  more  varied  and  ex 
citing,  but  far  less  serene  and  enduring,  than  that  of 
a  quiet  home  ;  but  here  I  have  reached  a  fountain  too 
pure  and  powerful  to  be  exhausted.  I  never  before 
experienced  such  a  thorough  deliverance  from  all  the 
petty  annoyances  of  travel  in  other  lands,  such  perfect 
contentment  of  spirit,  such  entire  abandonment  to  the 
best  influences  of  nature.  Every  day  opens  with  a 
jubilee,  and  closes  with  a  thanksgiving.  If  such  u 


MASTERPIECES  OF  F,U)QUENCE. 


balm  ^nd  blessing  as  this  life  has  been  to  me,  thu 
far,  can  be  felt  twice  in  one's  existence,  there  must  bt 
another  Nile  somewhere  in  the  world. 

Other  travellers  undoubtedly  make  other  experiences 
and  take  away  other  impressions.  I  can  even  conceive 
circumstances  which  would  almost  destroy  the  pleas 
ure  of  the  journey.  The  same  exquisitely  sensitive 
temperament,  which  in  our  case  has  not  been  dis 
turbed  by  a  single  untoward  incident,  might  easily  be 
kept  in  a  state  of  constant  derangement  by  an  un 
sympathetic  companion,  a  cheating  dragoman,  or  a 
fractious  crew.  There  are  also  many  trifling  disagree 
ments,  inseparable  from  life  in  Egypt,  which  some 
would  consider  a  source  of  annoyance  ;  but,  as  we  fine 
fewer  than  we  were  prepared  to  meet,  we  are  not 
troubled  thereby. 

Our  manner  of  life  is  simple,  and  might  even  be 
called  monotonous ;  but  we  have  never  found  the 
greatest  variety  of  landscape  and  incident  so  thoroughly 
enjoyable.  The  scenery  of  the  Nile,  thus  far,  scarcely 
changes  from  day  to  day,  in  its  forms  and  colors,  but 
only  in  their  disposition  with  regard  to  each  other. 
The  shores  are  either  palm-groves,  fields  of  cane  and 
dourra,  young  wheat,  or  patches  of  bare  sand  blown 
out  from  the  desert.  The  villages  are  all  the  same 
agglomerations  of  mud  walls,  the  tombs  of  the  Moslem 
saints  are  the  same  white  ovens,  and  every  individual 
camel  and  buffalo  resembles  its  neighbor  in  picturesque 
ugliness.  The  Arabian  and  Libyan  Mountains,  now 
sweeping  so  far  into  the  foreground  that  their  yellow 
cliffs  overhang  the  Nile,  now  receding  into  the  violet 
haze  of  the  horizon,  exhibit  little  difference  of  height, 
hue,  or  geological  formation.  Every  new  scene  is  the 
turn  of  a  kaleidoscope,  in  which  the  same  objects  are 
grouped  in  other  relations,  yet  always  characterized  by 
the  most  perfect  harmony. 

These  slight  yet  ever-renewing  changes  are  to  us  a 
•eource  of  endless  delight  Either  from  the  pure 
atmosphere,  the  healthy  life  we  lead,  or  the  accordant 
tone  of  our  spirits,  we  find  ourselves  unusually  sensi 
tive  to  all  the  slightest  touches,  the  most  minute  rays, 
of  that  grace  and  harmony  which  bathes  every  land 
scape  in  cloudless  sunshine.  The  various  groupings 
of  the  palms,  the  shifting  of  the  blue  evening  shadows 
on  the  rose-hued  mountain-walls,  the  green  of  the 
wheat  and  sugar-cane,  the  windings  of  the  great  river, 
the  alternations  of  wind  and  calm — each  of  these  is 
enough  to  content  us,  and  to  give  every  day  a  different 
charm  from  that  which  went  before.  We  meet  con 
trary  winds,  calms,  and  sand-bags,  without  losing 
3ur  patience  ;  and  even  our  excitement  in  the  swiftness 
and  grace  with  which  our  vessel  scuds  before  the  north 
wind_  is  mingled  with  a  regret  that  our  journey  is 
drawing  so  much  the  more  swiftly  to  its  close.  A 
portion  of  the  old  Egyptian  repose  seems  to  be  in 
fused  into  our  natures ;  and  lately,  when  I  saw  my 
lace  in  a  mirror,  I  thought  I  perceived  in  its  features 
something  of  the  patience  and  resignation  of  the 
sphinx, 

BAYARD  TAYLOR. 


OXFORD    BOAT-RACE. 

OINGr  into  Christ  Church  Meadows,  in  com- 
pany  with  several  gownsmen,  we  soon  joined 
a  crowd  of  under-grz*<iuates  and  others  who 
were  seeking  the  banks  of  the  Isis.  The 
rival  boats  were  still  far  up  the  stream  ;  but  here  we 
found  their  flags  displayed  upon  a  staff",  one  above  the 
other,  in  the  order  of  their  respective  merit  at  the  last 
rowing-match.  The  flag  of  Wadham  waved  trium 
phant,  and  the  brilliant  colors  of  Balliol,  Christ 
Church,  Exeter,  etc.,  fluttered  scarce  less  proudly 
underneath.  What  an  animated  scene  those  walks 
and  banks  exhibited,  as  the  numbers  thickened,  and 
the  fiauntiiiH  robes  of  the  young  academics  began  to 
be  seen  in  dingy  contrast  with  the  gayer  silks  and 
streamers  of  the  fair !  Even  town,  as  well  as  goum, 
had  sent  forth  its  representatives,  and  you  would  have 
said  some  mighty  issue  was  about  to  be  decided,  had 
you  heard  their  interchange  of  breathless  query  and 
reply. 

A  distant  gun  announced  that  the  boats  had  started, 
and  crowds  began  to  gather  about  a  bridge  in  the 
neighboring  fields,  where  it  was  certain  they  would  soon 
be  seen,  in  all  the  speed  and  spirit  of  the  contest. 
Crossing  the  little  river  in  a  punt,  and  yielding  to  the 
enthusiasm  which  now  filled  the  hearts  and  faces  of 
all  spectators,  away  I  flew  towards  the  bridge,  and  had 
scarcely  gained  it  when  the  boats  appeared — Wadham 
still  ahead,  but  hotly  pressed  by  Balliol,  which  in  turn 
was  closely  followed  by  the  crews  of  divers  other 
colleges,  all  pulling  for  dear  life,  while  their  friends, 
on  either  bank,  ran  at  their  side,  shouting  the  most 
inspiriting  outcries  !  The  boats  were  of  the  sharpest 
and  uaiTowest  possible  build,  without-rigged  thole-pins 
for  the  oars.  The  rowers,  in  proper  boat-dress,  or  rather 
undress  (close-fitting  flannel  shirt  and  drawers),  were 
lashing  the  water  with  inimitable  strokes,  and  "putting 
their  back ' '  into  their  sport,  as  if  every  man  was 
indeed  determined  to  do  his  duty.  "  Now,  Wadham  ! " 
"Now,  Balliol!"  "Well  pulled,  Christ  Church!" 
with  deafening  hurrahs  and  occasional  peals  of 
aughter,  made  the  welkin  ring  again. 

I    found  myself  running  and  shouting  with  the 
merriest  of  them.     Several  boats  were  but  a  few  feet 
apart,  and,  stroke  after  stroke,  not  one  gained  upon 
another  perceptibly.     Where  there  was  the  least  gain, 
t  was  astonishing  to  see  the  pluck  with  which  both 
winner  and  loser  seemed  to  start  afresh ;  while  re 
doubled  cries  of   "Now  for  it,    Merton !  "     "Well 
done,   Corpus!"  and  even  "Go  it,  again!" — which 
had  supposed  an  Amerieanism — were  vociferated 
rom  the  banks.     All  at  once — "  a  bump  !  '  and  the 
defeated  boat  fell  aside,  while  the  victors  pressed  on 
amid  roars  of  applause.     The  chief  interest,  howerer, 
was,  of  course,  concentrated  about  "Wadham,"  the 
eader,  now  evidently  gained  upon  by  "Ba'iliol.''     It 
was  indeed  most  exciting  to  watch  the  half-inch  losses 
which  the  former  was  experiencing  at  every  stroke, 
"he  goal  was  near ;  but  the  plucky  Balttoi  crew  was  BO* 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


to  be  distanced.  A  stroke  or  two  of  fresh  animation  and 
energy  sends  their  bow  an  arm's-length  forward. 
"  Hurrah,  Balliol !  " — "  Once  more  !  " — "A  bump  !  " 
— "  Hurrah-ah-ah  !  " — and  a  general  cheer  from  all 
lungs,  with  hands  waving  and  caps  tossing,  and  every 
thing  betokening  the  wildest  excitement  of  spirits, 
closed  the  contest ;  while  amid  the  uproar  the  string 
of  flags  came  down  from  the  tall  staff,  and  soon  went 
up  again,  with  several  transpositions  of  the  showy 
,',-Jolors — Wadham's  little  streamer  now  fluttering  paulo- 
post,  but  victorious  Balliol  flaunting  proudly  over  all. 
It  was  growing  dark ;  and  it  was  surprising  how 
speedily  the  crowd  dispersed,  and  how  soon  all  that 
frenzy  of  excitement  had  vanished  like  the  bubbles  on 
the  river. 

ARTHUR  CLEVELAND  COXE. 

VIRTUE   ALONE   BEAUTIFUL. 

ANDSOME  is  that  handsome  does — hold  up 
your  hands,  girls,"  is  the  language  of  Prim 
rose  in  the  play,  when  addressing  her 
daughters.  The  worthy  matron  was  right. 
Would  that  all  my  female  readers,  who  are  sorrowing 
foolishly  because  they  are  not  in  all  respects  like 
Dubufe's  Eve,  or  that  statue  of  Venus  which  enchants 
the  world,  could  be  persuaded  to  listen  to  her.  What 
is  good-looking,  as  Horace  Smith  remarks,  but  looking 
good  ?  Be  good,  be  womanly,  be  gentle — generous  in 
your  sympathies,  heedful  of  the  well-being  of  those 
around  you,  and,  my  word  for  it,  you  will  not  lack 
kind  words  or  admiration.  Loving  and  pleasant  asso 
ciations  will  gather  about  you.  Never  mind  the  ugly 
reflection  which  your  glass  may  give  you.  That 
mirror  has  no  heart.  But  quite  another  picture  is 
given  you  on  the  retina  of  human  sympathy.  There 
the  beauty  of  holiness,  of  purity,  of  that  inward  grace 
"which  passetb.  show,"  rests  over  it,  softening  and 
mellowing  its  features,  just  as  the  full,  calm  moonlight 
melts  those  of  a  rough  landscape  into  harmonious 
loveliness. 

"  Hold  up  your  heads,  girls ;  "  I  repeat  after  Prim 
rose.  Why  should  you  not  ?  Every  mother's  daughter 
of  you  can  be  beautiful.  You  can  envelop  yourselves 
in  an  atmosphere  of  moral  and  intellectual  beauty, 
through  which  your  otherwise  plain  faces  will  look 
forth  like  those  of  angels.  Beautiful  to  Ledyard, 
stiffening  in  the  cold  of  a  northern  winter,  seemed  the 
diminutive,  smoke-stained  women  of  Lapland,  who 
wrapped  him  in  their  furs,  and  ministered  to  his 
necessities  with  kind  and  gentle  words  of  compassion. 
Lovely  to  the  home-sick  Park  seemed  the  dark  maids 
of  Sigo,  as  they  sung  their  low  and  simple  songs  of 
welcome  beside  his  bed,  and  sought  to  comfort  the 
white  stranger  who  had  "no  mother  to  bring  him 
milk,  and  no  wife  to  grind  him  corn."  Oh  !  talk  as 
you  may  of  beauty,  as  a  thing  to  be  chiselled  upon 
marble  or  wrought  on  canvas — speculate  as  you  may 
upon  its  colors  and  outline — what  is  it  but  an  intel 
lectual  abstraction  after  all  ?  The  heart  feels  a  beauty 


of  another  kind — looking  through  outward  environ- 
ments,  it  discovers  a  deeper  and  more  real  loveliness. 

This  was  well  understood  by  the  old  painters.  In 
their  pictures  of  Mary,  the  virgin  mother,  the  beauty 
which  melts  and  subdues  the  gazer  is  that  of  the  soul 
and  the  affections — uniting  the  awe  and  the  mystery 
of  the  mother's  miraculous  allotment  with  the  inex 
pressible  love,  the  unutterable  tenderness,  of  young 
maternity — Heaven's  crowning  miracle  with  nature's 
sweetest  and  holiest  instinct.  And  their  pale  Magda- 
lens,  holy  with  the  look  of  sins  forgiven — how  the 
divine  beauty  of  their  penitence  sinks  into  the  heart ! 
Do  we  not  feel  that  the  only  real  deformity  is  sin,  and 
that  goodness  evermore  hallows  and  sanctifies  its 
dwelling-place  ? 

•     JOHN   GREENLEAF  WlIITTIER. 


CIVILIZATION    OF    AFRICA. 

IKNOW  it  is  said  that  it  is  impossible  to  civilize 
Africa.  Why?  Why  is  it  impossible  to  civilize 
men  in  one  part  of  the  earth  more  than  in  another? 
Consult  history.  Was  Italy,  was  Greece,  the 
cradle  of  civilization  ?  No.  As  far  back  as  the  lights 
of  tradition  reach,  Africa  was  the  cradle  of  science, 
while  Syria,  and  Greece,  and  Italy  were  yet  covered 
with  darkness.  As  far  back  as  we  can  trace  the  first 
rudiments  of  improvement,  they  come  from  the  very 
head  waters  of  the  Nile,  far  in  the  interior  of  Africa  ; 
and  there  are  yet  to  be  found,  in  shapeless  ruins,  the 
monuments  of  this  primeval  civilization.  To  come 
down  to  a  much  later  period,  while  the  West  and 
South  of  Europe  were  yet  barbarous,  the  Mediterra 
nean  coast  of  Africa  was  filled  with  cities,  academies, 
museums,  churches,  and  a  highly  cultivated  popula 
tion. 

What  has  raised  the  Gaul,  the  Belgium,  thfr 
Germany,  the  Scandinavia,  the  Britain  of  ancient 
geography  to  their  present  improved  and  improving 
condition  ?  Africa  is  not  now  sunk  lower  than  most 
of  those  countries  were  eighteen  centuries  ago ;  and 
the  engines  of  social  influence  are  increased  a  thousand 
fold  in  numbers  and  efficacy.  It  is  not  eighteen 
hundred  years  since  Scotland,  whose  metropolis  has 
been  called  the  Athens  of  modern  Europe,  the  country 
of  Hume,  of  Smith,  of  Robertson,  of  Blair,  of  Stewart, 
of  Brown,  of  Jeffrey,  of  Chalmers,  of  Scott,  of 
Brougham,  was  a  wilderness,  infested  by  painted 
savages.  It  is  not  a  thousand  years  since  the  north 
of  Germany,  now  filled  with  beautiful  cities,  learned 
universities,  and  the  best  educated  population  in  the 
world,  was  a  dreary,  pathless  forest.  Am  I  told  thar 
the  work  we  have  in  hand  is  too  great  to  be  done  ? 
Too  great,  I  ask,  to  be  done  when  ?  too  great  to  bo 
done  by  whom  ?  Too  great,  I  admit,  to  be  done  at 
once  ;  too  great  to  be  done  by  this  society ;  too  great 
to  be  done  by  this  generation,  perhaps ;  but  not  toe 
great  to  be  done.  Nothing  is  too  great  to  be  donc^ 
which  is  founded  on  truth  and  justice,  and  whicn  it 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


687 


pwsued  with  the  meek  and  gentle  spirit  of  Christian 
Jove. 

EDWARD  EVERETT. 

EXECUTIVE   CLEMENCY. 

EXECUTIVE  clemency,  on  its  frequency,  has 
been  a  temptation  to  dishonesty.  Who  will 
fear  to  be  a  culprit  when  a  legal  sentence 
is  the  argument  of  pity,  and  the  prelude  of 
pardon  ?  What  can  the  community  expect  but  grow 
ing  dishonesty,  when  juries  connive  at  acquittals,  and 
judges  condemn  only  to  petition  a  pardon  ;  when 
honest  men  and  officers  fly  before  a  mob ;  when  jails 
are  besieged  and  threatened,  if  felons  are  not  re 
linquished  ;  when  the  executive,  consulting  the  spirit 
of  the  community,  receives  the  demands  of  the  mob, 
and  humbly  complies,  throwing  down  the  fences  of 
the  law,  that  base  rioters  may  walk  unimpeded,  to 
their  work  of  vengeance,  or  unjust  mercy  ?  A  sickly 
sentimentality  too  often  enervates  the  administration 
of  justice ;  and  the  pardoning  power  becomes  the 
master-key  to  let  out  unwashed,  unrepentent  criminals. 
They  have  fleeced  us,  robbed  us,  and  are  ulcerous  sores 
in  the  body  politic  ;  yet  our  heart  turns  to  water  over 
their  merited  punishment. 

A  fine  young  fellow,  by  accident,  writes  another's 
name  for  his  own  ;  by  a  mistake  equally  unfortunate, 
he  presents  it  at  the  bank  ;  innocently  draws  out  the 
large  amount ;  generously  spends  a  part,  and  absent- 
mindedly  hides  the  rest.  Hard-hearted  wretches  they 
are,  who  would  punish  him  for  this !  Young  men, 
admiring  the  neatness  of  the  affair,  pity  his  mis 
fortune,  and  curse  a  stupid  jury  that  knew  no  better 
than  to  send  to  a  penitentiary,  him,  whose  skill  de 
served  a  cashiership.  He  goes  to  his  cell,  the  pity 
of  a  whole  metropolis.  Bulletins  from  Sing-Sing  in 
form  us  daily  what  he  is  doing,  as  if  he  were  Napoleon 
at  St.  Helena.  At  length  pardoned,  he  goes  forth 
again  to  a  renowned  liberty ! 

HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 
DANGER    OP  MILITARY   SUPREMACY. 


R 


ECALL  to  your  recollection  the  free  nations 
which  have  gone  before  us.  Where  are  they 
now? 


"Gone  glimmering  through  the  dream  of  things 

that  were, 
The  school-boy's  tale,  the  wonder  of  an  hour." 

And  how  have  they  lost  their  liberties  ?  If  we  could 
transport  ourselves  to  the  ages  when  Greece  and  Rome 
flourished  in  their  greatest  prosperity,  and,  mingling 
in  the  throng,  should  ask  a  Grecian,  if  he  did  not  fear 
that  some  daring  military  chieftain,  covered  with 
glory,  some  Philip  or  Alexander,  would  one  day  over 
throw  the  liberties  of  his  country,  the  confident  and 
indignant  Grecian  would  exclaim,  "No  !  no  !  we  have 
nothing  to  fear  from  our  heroes  ;  our  liberties  will  be 


eternal."  If  a  Roman  citizen  had  been  asked,  if  he 
did  not  fear  that  the  conqueror  of  Gaul  might  estab 
lish  a  throne  upon  the  ruins  of  public  liberty,  h- 
would  have  instantly  repelled  the  unjust  insinuation. 
Yet  Greece  fell  ;  Caesar  passed  the  Rubicon,  and  th? 
patriotic  arm  even  of  Brutus  could  not  preserve  the 
liberties  of  his  devoted  country  ! 

We  are  fighting  a  great  moral  battle,  for  the  benefit, 
not  only  of  our  country,  but  of  all  mankind.  The 
eyes  of  the  whole  world  are  in  fixed  attention  upon 
us.  One,  and  the  largest  portion  of  it,  is  gazing  with 
contempt,  with  jealousy,  and  with  envy ;  the  other 
portion,  with  hope,  with  confidence,  and  with  affection. 
Everywhere  the  black  cloud  of  legitimacy  is  suspended 
over  the  world,  save  only  one  bright  spot,  which 
breaks  out  from  the  political  hemisphere  of  the  \vest, 
to  enlighten  and  animate,  and  gladden  the  human 
heart.  Observe  that,  by  the  downfall  of  liberty  here, 
all  mankind  are  enshrouded  in  a  pall  of  universal 
darkness.  To  you  belongs  the  high  privilege  of 
transmitting,  unimpaired,  to  posterity,  the  fair  char 
acter  and  liberty  of  our  country.  Do  you  expect  to 
execute  this  high  trust,  by  trampling,  or  suffering  to 
be  trampled  down,  law,  justice,  the  constitution,  and 
the  rights  of  the  people  ?  by  exhibiting  examples  of 
inhumanity,  and  cruelty,  and  ambition  ?  Beware  how 
you  give  a  fatal  sanction,  in  this  infant  period  of  our 
republic,  scarcely  yet  two-score  years  old,  to  military 
insubordination.  Remember  that  Greece  had  her 
Alexander,  Rome  her  Caesar,  England  her  Cromwell, 
France  her  Bonaparte,  and  that  if  we  would  escape 
the  rock  or  yhich  they  split,  we  must  avoid  their 


errors. 


HENRY  CLAY. 


INJUSTICE   THE   CAUSE   OF   NATIONAL, 
RUIN. 


@0  you  know  how  empires  find  their  end? 
the  great  states  eat  up  the  little  ;  as  with  fish, 
so  with  nations.     Aye,  but  how  do  the  great 
states  come  to  an  end?    By  their  own  in 
justice,  and    no  other  cause.     Come  with  me,  my 
friends,  come  with  me  into  the  Inferno  of  the  nations, 
with  such  poor  guidance  as  my  lamp  can  lend.     Let 
us  disquiet  and  bring  up  the  awful  shadows  of  empire* 
buried  long  ago,  and  learn  a  lesson  from  the  tomb. 

Come,  old  Assyria,  with  the  Ninevitish  dove  upon 
thy  emerald  crown.  What  laid  thee  low?  "I  fell 
by  my  own  injustice.  Thereby  Nineveh  and  Babylon. 
came  with  me  to  the  ground.  '  '  Oh  queenly  Persia, 
flame  of  the  nations,  wherefore  art  thou  so  fallen,  who 
troddest  the  people  under  thee,  bridgedst  the  Helles 
pont  with  ships,  and  pouredst  thy  temple-wasting 
millions  on  the  western  world  ?  "Because  I  trod  the 
people  under  me,  and  bridged  the  Hellespont  with 
ships,  and  poured  my  temple-wasting  millions  on  the 
western  world.  I  fell  by  my  own  misdeeds  !"  Thou, 
muselike.  Grecian  queen,  fairest  of  all  thy  classio 
sisterhood  of  states,  enchanting  yet  the  world  with  Ujp 


688 


MASTERPIECES  OF  ELOQUENCE. 


gweet  witchery,  speaking  in  art,  and  most  seductive 
eongj  why  liest  thou  there  with  the  beauteous  yet  dis- 
h«n»red  brow,  reposing  on  thy  broken  harp  ?  "I 
scorned  the  law  of  God  ;  banished  and  poisoned  wisest, 
justest  men ;  I  loved  the  loveliness  of  flesh  embalmed 
in  Parian  stone ;  I  loved  the  loveliness  of  thought,  and 
treasured  that  in  more  than  Parian  speech.  But  the 
beauty  of  justice,  the  loveliness  of  love,  I  trod  them 
down  to  earth !  Lo,  therefore,  have  I  become  as 
those  Barbarian  states — as  one  of  them  ! ' ' 

Oh  manly,  majestic  Rome,  thy  seven-fold  mural 
crown  all  broken  at  thy  feet,  why  art  thou  here? 
'Twas  not  injustice  brought  thee  low ;  for  thy  Great 
Book  of  Law  is  prefaced  with  these  words,  Justice  is 
the  unchanging,  everlasting  will  to  give  each  man  his 
Bight ! "  "It  was  not  the  saint's  ideal,  it  was  the 
hypocrite's  pretence  !  I  made  iniquity  my  law,  I  trod 
the  nations  under  me.  Their  wealth  gilded  my 
palaces — where  thou  rnayest  see  the  fox  and  hear  the 
owl — it  fed  my  courtiers  and  my  courtesans.  Wicked 
men  were  my  cabinet  councillors — the  flatterer  breathed 
his  poison  in  my  ear.  Millions  of  bondmen  wet  the 
soil  with  tears  and  blood.  Do  you  not  hear  it  crying 
yet  to  God?  Lo,  here  have  I  my  recompense,  tor 
mented  with  such  downfall  as  you  see. ' ' 

THEODORE  PARKER. 


THE    FIRST   AMERICAN    CONGRESS. 

[£  interposition  of  Divine  Providence  was 
eminently  conspicuous,  in  the  first  general 
Congress ;  what  men,  what  patriots,  what 
independent,  heroic  spirits!  ehosen  by  the 
unbiassed  voice  of  the  people ;  chosen  as  all  public 
servants  ought  to  be,  without  favor  and  without  fear ; 
what  an  august  assembly  of  sages  !  Kerne  in  the 
height  of  her  glory,  fades  before  it,  There  never 
was  in  any  age,  or  nation,  a  body  of  men  who  for 
general  information,  for  the  judicious  use  of  the 
results  of  civil  and  political  history,  for  eloquence  and 
virtue;  for  true  dignity,  elevation  and  grandeur  of 
soul,  that  could  stand  a  comparison  with  the  first 
American  Congress!  See  what  the  people  will  do 
when  left  to  themselves ;  to  their  unbiassed  good  sense, 
and  to  their  true  interests  !  The  ferocious  Gaul  would 
have  dropped  his  sword  at  the  hall-door,  and  would 
have  fled  thunderstruck  as  from  an  assembly  of  gods  ! 
Whom  do  I  behold?  a  Hancock,  a  Jefferson,  an 
Adams,  a  Henry,  a  Lee,  a  Rutledge  ! — Glory  to  their 
immortal  spirits !  On  you  depend  the  destinies  of 
your  country  ;  the  fate  of  three  millions  of  men ;  and 
of  the  countless  millions  of  their  posterity !  Shall 
these  be  slaves,  or  will  you  make  a  noble  stand  for 
liberty,  against  a  power  whose  triumphs  are  already 
co-extensive  with  the  earth  ;  whose  legions  trample 
on  thrones  and  sceptres;  whose  thunders  bellow 
on  every  ocean  ?  How  tremendous  the  occasion  ! 
How  vast  the  responsibility !  The  President  and  all 


the  members  of  this  august  assembly  take  their  seats. 
Every  countenance  tells  the  mighty  struggle  within. 
Every  tongue  is  silent.  It  is  a  pause  in  nature,  that 
solemn,  awful  stillness,  which  precedes  the  earthquake 
and  tornado. 

At  length  Demosthenes  arises  ;  he  only  is  adequate 
to  the  great  occasion,  the  Virginian  Demosthenes,  the 
mighty  Henry!  What  dignity!  What  majesty!  Every 
eye  fastens  upon  him.  Firm,  erect,  undaunted,  he 
rolls  on  the  mighty  torrent  of  his  eloquence.  What  a 
picture  does  he  draw  of  the  horrors  of  servitude,  and 
the  charms  of  freedom  !  At  once  he  gives  the  full 
rein  to  all  his  gigantic  powers,  and  pours  his  own 
heroic  spirit  into  the  minds  of  his  auditors  ;  they  be 
come  as  one  man;  actuated  by  one  soul  —  and  the 
universal  shout  is,  '  '  Liberty  or  Death  !  '  '  This  single 
speech  of  this  illustrious  man  gave  an  impulse,  which 
probably  decided  the  fate  of  America.  His  eloquence 
seized  and  moved  the  assembled  sages  ;  as  the 
descending  hail-storm,  bursting  in  thunder,  rending 
the  forest,  and  shaking  the  mountains.  God  bestows 
on  nations  no  greater  gift  than  great  and  good  men, 
endowed  with  the  high  and  commanding  powers  of 
eloquence.  Such  a  man  as  Patrick  Henry  may,  on 
some  great  occasion,  when  the  happiness  or  misery  of 
millions  depends  on  a  single  decision,  render  more 
important  service  to  a  nation  than  all  the  generation* 
of  a  century. 

J.   MAXEY. 

jfNVECTIVE    AGAINST   .ffiSCHINES. 


^^^AKE  then  the  whole  course  of  your  life, 
\  I  L  JEschines,  and  of  mine  ;  compare  them  with- 

JI.  out  heat  or  acrimony.  You  taught  writing,  I 
learned  it  :  you  were  an  instructor,  I  was  the 
instructed  :  you  danced  at  the  games,  I  presided  over 
them  :  you  wrote  as  a  clerk,  I  pleaded  as  an  advocate  : 
you  were  an  actor  in  the  theatres,  I  a  spectator  :  you 
broke  down,  I  hissed  :  you  ever  took  counsel  for  omr 
enemies,  I  for  our  country.  In  fine,  now  on  this  day 
the  point  at  issue  is  —  Am  I,  yet  unstained  in  character, 
worthy  of  a  crown  ?  while  to  you  is  reserved  the  lot 
of  a  calumniator,  and  you  are  in  danger  of  being 
silenced  by  not  having  obtained  a  fifth  part  of  the 
votes. 

I  have  not  fortified  the  city  with  stone,  nor  adorned 
it  with  tiles,  neither  do  I  take  any  credit  for  sucb 
things.  But  if  you  would  behold  my  works  aright, 
you  will  find  arms,  and  cities,  and  stations,  and 
harbors,  and  ships,  and  horses,  and  those  who  are  to 
make  use  of  them  in  our  defense.  Tbfc  is  the  ram 
part  I  have  raised  for  Attica,  as  m»ch  as  human 
wisdom  could  effect  '.  with  theise  I  fortified,  not  the 
Piraeus  and  the  city  only,  but  the  •vhole  country.  I 
never  sank  before  the  arms  or  tunning  of  Philip. 
No  !  it  was  by  the  supineness  of  your  OWE  generals 
and  allies  that  he  triumphed. 

DBMOSTHKAS*. 


BTRI1?  QTORItiQ   ^PP  THff  YflMP 
DIDLJi  oluiULO  fuil  Infi  lUUliu, 

COMPRISING    CAPTIVATING 

NARRATIVES  OF  SCENES  AND  EVENTS. 


THE  FALL  OF  OUR  FIRST  PARENTS.— Gen.  iii.  6. 

THE  FALL  OF  OUR  FIRST  PARENTS. — The 
Bible  begins  with  an  account  of  the  creation 
of  the  world.  The  sun,  moon  and  stars,  the  land 
and  water,  the  trees,  plants  and  an 
imals,  were  made,  and  the  whole 
work  was  pronounced  to  be  very 
good.  Then  Adam  was  formed 
from  the  dust  of  the  earth,  a  living 
soul  was  breathed  into  him,  and 
Eve  was  given  to  be  his  companion 
and  helpmeet.  A  beautiful  garden 
for  their  abode  was  planted  east 
ward  in  Eden,  and  they  were  per 
mitted  to  eat  of  every  tree  of  the 
garden  with  the  exception  of  one. 
If  they  tasted  the  fruit  of  this  tree 
they  would  die.  Eve  was  tempted 
by  the  serpent,  and  was  told  that 
disobedience  would  not  result  in 
death,  but  she  would  become  as  a 
god,  knowing  good  and  evil.  She 
listened  and  ate,  and  from  that  mo 
ment  the  curse  of  sin  came  upon 
L 


the  earth.  She  in  turn  became  the 
tempter  of  Adam,  who  yielded  to 
her  persuasions,  as  she  did  to  those 
of  the  serpent.  This  is  the  Script 
ural  narrative  of  the  fall  of  our 
first  parents.  Having  been  created 
holy  in  the  image  of  God,  by  one 
great  act  of  folly  they  lost  their 
first  estate. 

ADAM   AND   EVE   DRIVEN  FROM 
PARADISE. — The  banishment  of  the 
guilty  pair   from   the    bowers    of 
Eden    followed   their    sin.       They 
were  startled  by  a  voice  which  was 
heard  in  the  garden  in  the  cool  of 
the  day.     Suddenly  alarmed,  they 
hid  themselves  among  the  trees  and 
endeavored   to   escape.     Fear  was 
awakened  when  it  was  too  late,  and 
the  Lord  God  having  called  unto  Adam,  he 
was  put  on  trial  for  his  sin,  and  both  he  and 
Eve  were  driven  forth  from  their  happy  home 


ADAM  AND  EVE  DRIVEN  FROM  PARADISE. -Gen.  Hi.  23,  24. 

1 


BIBLE  STO1UES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


BANISHMENT  FROM  PARADISE.— Can.  iii   19. 

AFTER  THE  BANISHMENT  FROM  PARADISE. — 
The  exiles  from  Eden  went  forth  into  an 
hospitable  world.     Their  life 
to  be  one  of  toil  and  sorrow. 


m- 


henceforth  was 
Bereft  of  their 


fair  Paradise,  they  were  to  learn  the  meaning 
of  suffering  and   death.     The   fatal   moment 
was  past;  the  early  innocence  could  not  be 
recalled;  on  every  side  were  signs  of  woe; 
the  dust  to  which  the  guilty  ones 
were   destined  to  return   must  be 
wet  with  their  tears.     The  ground 
which,  in  its  virgin  state,  could  give 
birth  to  the  bloom  and  beauty  of    L 
Eden,  now  bore  thorns  and  this 
tles,  and  the  ruined  earth  presented 
a  pathetic  contrast  to  the  loveliness 
of  the    garden   which   formed   the 
first   abode.     Yet   it   must  not   be 
supposed  that  no  gleams  of  hope 
and  mercy  tinged  the   dark  cloud 
which  had   so   suddenly  appeared. 
There  was  to  be   enmity   between 
the  evil  tempter  and   the  woman, 
and  the  assurance  was  given  that 
the  serpent  should  be  bruised  and 
his  power  finally  destroyed.     While 
we  have  in  the  first  chapters  of  the 
Rible  the   unhappy  narrative  of  a 


Paradise  lost,  we  have  in  the  clos 
ing  chapters  a  Paradise  regained. 

SACRIFICE  OF  CAIN  AND  ABEL. — 
Two  sons  were  given  to  Adam  and 
Eve,  and  in  time  they  grew  to  be 
men.  The  name  of  the  elder  was 
Cain,  whose  occupation  was  tilling 
the  ground;  the  name  of  the 
younger  was  AbeL  who  was  a 
shepherd.  The  practice  of  worship 
and  sacrifice  had  already  been  com 
menced  ;  the  smoke  from  the  altar's 
flame  had  already  ascended  toward 
heaven.  Abel  understood  quite 
well  that  an  offering  from  his  flock, 
the  lamb,  which  is  an  emblem  of 
innocence  and  purity,  would  be  ac 
ceptable  to  God.  Cain  also  wished 
to  make  an  offering,  and  so  brought 
of  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  and  was 
professedly  as  devout  a  worshipper  as  his 
brother.  The  Lord  had  respect  to  the  offer 
ing  of  Abel,  but  that  of  Cain  was  rejected 
The  anger  of  Cain  was  excited  at  once,  and 
showed  a  sudden  jealousy  and  hatred  of  his 
brother.  God  asked  the  occasion  of  his  wrath, 
and  assured  him  if  he  did  well  he  would  be 
accepted.  Alas,  he  had  done  a  great  wrong. 


SACRIFICE  OF  CAIN  AND  ABEL.— Gen.  iv.  4,5. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


DEATH  OF  ABEL.— Gen.  iv.  8. 

THE  DEATH  OF  ABEL. — In  the  very  morn 
ing  of  creation  the  earth  was  stained  with 
blood.  The  fires  of  sacrifice  kindled  by  these 
two  brothers  had  gone  out,  but  not  the  fire  of 
envy  and  revenge  in  the  heart  of  one  of  them. 
Cain  talked  with  Abel,  and  at  the  same  time 
watched  his  opportunity  to  strike  the  fatal 
blow.  When  they  were  in  the  field  together 
Abel  was  slain,  and  now  in  the  an 
nals  of  the  first  family  of  the  human 
race  we  have  the  first  record  of  the 
greatest  crime  that  can  be  com 
mitted.  The  elder  brother  was  a 
murderer.  Sin  had  grown  with 
startling  rapidity,  and  had  proved 
its  desperate  nature.  Promptly,  as 
appears  from  the  narrative  in  Gene 
sis,  the  Lord  said  to  Cain,  Where  is 
Abel,  thy  brother?  Cain,  as  if 
hoping  like  all  criminals  to  conceal 
his  guilt,  replied  that  he  did  not 
know.  No  language  could  be  more 
graphic  than  that  in  which  his  crime 
was  stated.  He  was  told  that  his 
brother's  blood  was  crying  from  the 
ground.  From  that  hour  Cain  was 
a  marked  man;  swift  punishment 
overtook  him  ;  the  Divine  judgment 
43 


was  speedily  pronounced,  and  the 
guilty  criminal  went  forth  to  be  a 
wanderer  in  the  earth. 

NOAH  COMMANDED  TO  BUILD  THE 
ARK. — Coming  to  the  history  of 
Noah,  we  find  that  during  his  time 
the  earth  had  grown  to  be  very 
wicked.  A  race  of  mighty  men 
had  appeared,  but  very  little  of  good 
could  be  said  concerning  them. 
The  statement  is  that  every  thought 
and  imagination  were  only  evil  con 
tinually,  and  that  God  resolved  to 
send  a  flood  of  waters  to  sweep 
away  the  wicked  generation.  Noah, 
however,  endeavored  to  be  an  up 
right  man,  and  preparations  were 
made  to  save  him  and  his  family. 
He  was  commanded  to  build  an 
ark  which  should  float  upon  the 
great  deep,  and  for  the  space  of  one  hundred 
and  twenty  years  he  patiently  worked  upon 
the  huge  vessel,  receiving  Divine  direction  as 
to  its  construction.  The  kind  of  wood  to  be 
used,  the  length,  breadth  and  height,  the  num 
ber  of  stories,  the  position  of  the  door  and 
window,  the  method  of  stopping  the  crevices 
to  keep  the  water  out,  were  all  stated. 


COMMANDED  TO  BUILD  THE  ARK  —Gen.  vi.  13-18. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


NOAH  LEAVING  THE  ARK.-Gen.  viii.  18,  19. 

NOAH  LEAVING  THE  ARK. — Upon  the  com 
pletion  of  the  ark  Noah  and  his  family,  com 
prising  in  all  eight  souls,  entered  it,  and  took 
with  them  two  of  a  kind,  male  and  female,  of 
beasts,  fowls,  and  everything  that  creepeth,  in 
order  that  life  in  the  earth  might  not  be  en 
tirely  destroyed.  Then  the  foundations  of  the 
great  deep  were  broken  up,  and  the  windows 
of  heaven  opened.  Forty  days  and 
nights  the  torrents  poured  down, 
turning  the  land  into  a  sea,  filling 
the  valleys,  rising  above  the  moun 
tains,  and  carrying  destruction  far 
and  wide.  One  world  was  drowned, 
but  a  new  one  was  floating  in  the 
ark.  A  vivid  picture  is  given  in 
Genesis  of  the  desolation  which  pre 
vailed.  Everything,  even  to  the 
herbs  of  the  field,  perished.  One 
hundred  and  fifty  days  the  waters 
prevailed.  During  this  period  Noah 
took  measures  to  ascertain  whether 
the  waters  were  subsiding.  We 
have  the  picture  of  a  dove  going 
forth  from  the  window  of  the  ark 
and  returning  without  finding  a 
resting-place.  Again  it  went  forth, 
and  came  back  with  an  olive 


branch,  showing  that  land  was 
somewhere  to  be  found.  On  its 
next  excursion  it  did  not  return,  but 
settled  itself  in  its  new  home.  The 
tvandering  ark  finally  rested  on 
Mount  Ararat. 

NOAH'S  THANK-OFFERING. — The 
first  act  of  Noah  and  his  family 
upon  leaving  the  ark  was  that  ot 
worship  and  thanksgiving.  An 
altar  was  erected  and  loaded  with 
offerings.  As  the  consuming  fire 
flashed  heavenward  the  Lord  was 
well  pleased  with  the  fragrance  of 
the  sacrifice,  His  infinite  pity  was 
moved,  and  He  resolved  in  His 
heart  never  to  flood  the  earth  again. 
Seed-time  and  harvest,  cold  and 
heat,  summer  and  winter,  were 
promised  so  long  as  the  earth  re- 
maineth.  One  of  the  most  attractive  parts  of 
this  scene  of  worship  is  the  making  of  a  cov 
enant,  and  fixing  the  sign  of  it  in  the  heavens. 
In  this  covenant  every  living  creature  was  in 
cluded,  and  was  assured  of  the  Divine  protec 
tion  and  care.  The  seven-colored  rainbow., 
arching  the  sky,  was  made  the  pledge  that  the 
covenant  never  would  be  broken. 


'.'OAH'S  THANK-OFFERING. -Gen.  viii.  2C. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


NOAH  CURSES  HAM.— Gen.  ix.  2^,25. 

NOAH  CURSES  HAM. — Looking  again  at 
the  history  in  Genesis  we  learn  that  Noah, 
after  leaving  the  ark,  followed  the  life  of  a 
husbandman.  Broad  fields  were  to  be  tilled, 
and  the  promise  had  been  given  that  seed-time 
and  harvest  should  not  fail.  The  earth  would 
yield  its  increase  and  labor  would  be  rewarded. 
Noah  planted  a  vineyard,  drank  of  the  fruit 
of  the  vine,  and  became  drunken. 
Lying  uncovered  in  his  tent,  he  was 
seen  by  Ham,  one  of  his  three  sons, 
who,  instead  of  concealing  his 
father's  weakness  and  shame,  called 
his  two  brothers  to  come  and  wit 
ness  it.  This  was  showing  a  dis 
respect  which  brought  down  the 
curse  of  the  father  upon  the  head 
of  the  son.  The  two  brothers  took 
a  garment,  and  laying  it  upon  their 
choulders,  went  backward  and 
covered  their  father's  nakedness. 
This  dutiful  act  stands  in  strong 
contrast  to  the  conduct  of  Ham, 
who  was  ready  to  expose  the  shame 
of  his  father.  When  Noah  awaked 
he  knew  what  had  been  done  by 
his  thoughtless,  ungrateful  son,  and 
he  pronounced  a  curse  upon  Ham 


and  his  descendants,  declaring  that 
they  should  be  servants  unto  their 
brethren.  At  the  same  time  he 
gave  IMS  blessing  to  Shem  and 
Japheth. 

THE  TOWER  OF  BABEL. — After 
the  family  of  Noah  took  possession 
of  the  earth  the  number  of  inhabi 
tants  was  soon  greatly  increased. 
All  are  represented  as  speaking  one 
language  which  was  easily  under 
stood.  As  the  tide  of  population 
rolled  eastward  it  came  to  a  plain 
in  the  land  of  Shinar,  where  a  set 
tlement  was  speedily  made.  The 
people,  not  profiting  by  former  ex 
amples  of  sin,  resolved  to  build  a 
tower  that  should  reach  to  heaven. 
Their  plea  was  that  they  were  anx 
ious  to  make  for  themselves  a  name, 
lest  they  should  be  scattered  abroad  upon  the 
face  cvf  the  whole  earth.  They  wished  to  found 
a  city,  and  by  the  erection  of  a  tower  gratify 
their  pride.  The  Lord,  we  are  told,  saw  their 
ambitious  project,  their  language  was  at  once 
confounded,  the  tower  of  Babel  was  over 
thrown,  and  from  that  time  the  human  race 
spoke  with  many  tongues. 


THE  TOWER  OF  SABEU-Gen.  xi.  7.  8. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


ENTERING  THE  PROMISED  LAND.— Gen.  xii.  3-7. 

ABRAHAM    SEES   THE    PROMISED    LAND. — 
One  of  the  best  men  whose  lives  are  recorded 
in  the  Bible  was  Abraham,  sometimes  called 
"  the  father  of  the  faithful."     In  the  land  of 
Ur,  where   he   resided,   idolatry  was   almost 
universally  practised.      He   received   Divine 
direction  to  go  forth,  and  pursue  his  journeys 
until  he  should  reach  a  land  which  the  Lord 
would  show  him.     He  was  to  leave 
his  kindred  and  his  father's  house, 
and  in  so  doing  the  promise  was 
made   that  he  should  have  many 
descendants   and   become   a   great 
nation.    He  did  not  know  the  coun 
try  which  was  to  be  his  future  abode, 
nor  the  way  to  it,  but  being  a  man 
of  strong  faith  he  immediately  de 
parted   to    his   new   home,   taking 
with    him    his   nephew,    Lot,   and 
Sarah,  his  wife.     The  journey  was 
long  and  was  attended  with  many 
difficulties.      They  finally  came  to 
the  land  of  Canaan,  a  country  which 
during  all  the  centuries  since  has 
been  associated  with  the  history  of 
the  Jewish  people.  Abraham  passed 
through  until  he  came  to  the  plain 
of  Moreh.   The  Divine  promise  was 


given  that  this  land  should  belong 
to  him  and  his  posterity,  and  he 
built  an  altar  unto  the  Lord.  Pass 
ing  on  he  came  to  a  mountain  on 
the  east  of  Bethel,  and  there  erected 
another  altar,  carrying  his  spirit  of 
worship  wherever  he  went. 

GOD'S  PROMISE  TO  ABRAHAM. — 
Abraham  was  in  a  strange  country, 
and  was   among  people  not  alto 
gether  friendly  to  him  and  his  re 
ligion,  but  he  was   protected  and 
dwelt  in  security.     When  a  famine 
arose  he  and  Lot  went  for  the  time 
being  to  Egypt,  yet  not  intending 
to  remain  long.     Upon  their  return 
they  repaired  to  the  plain  of  Moreh, 
where  an  altar  had  previously  been 
erected.     These  men  had  met  with 
great  prosperity ;  had  become  pos 
sessed  of  many  flocks,  and  had  grown  to  be 
rich.     Their  herdsmen  could  not  agree,  and 
Abraham  and  Lot  resolved  to  separate,  each 
going  his  own  way  and  selecting  his  own  place 
of  residence.     Lot  made  choice  of  the  plain  of 
Jordan,  and  thus  the  peace  was  secured  which 
Abraham  earnestly  desired.    It  seemed  to  him 
an  unhappy  thing  to  have  any  quarrel. 


GOD'S  PROMISE  TO  ABRAHAM.— Gen.  xv.  5. 


BIBLE  STORIES  FOR  THE   YOUNG. 


LEAVING  SODOM.— Gen.  xix.  24-26. 

LOT  AND  HIS  DAUGHTERS  LEAVING  SODOM. 
— In  the  plain  of  the  Jordan  two  cities,  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah,  had  become  notorious  for  their 
wickedness.  After  separating  from  Abraham 
we  are  told  that  Lot  pitched  his  tent  toward 
Sodom.  This  city  was  to  be  destroyed,  and 
Abraham  was  told  by  angels  what  was  com 
ing.  With  great  earnestness  he  interceded  in 
behalf  of  Lot,  and  was  told  that  if 
ten  righteous  men  could  be  found 
in  the  city  it  would  be  spared.  Lot 
was  also  visited  by  two  angels,  who 
warned  him  of  the  approaching 
danger,  and  urged  him  to  flee  to 
some  other  place.  The  angels  took 
Lot,  his  wife  and  his  two  daughters 
by  the  hand  and  led  them  out  of  the 
city.  They  were  told  to  escape  for 
their  lives ;  to  flee  without  any  de 
lay  ;  to  betake  themselves  to  the 
mountain,  for  the  city  would  surely 
be  overthrown.  The  special  request 
of  Lot  that  he  should  be  permitted 
to  flee  to  a  small  place  called  Zoar 
was  granted,  and  thither  he  and 
his  daughters  directed  their  hasty 
steps ;  but  the  representation  is  that 
Lot's  wife  lingered  in  the  plain  and, 


stopping  to  look  oack,  was  turned 
to  a  pillar  of  salt.  The  storm  of 
fire  descended  from  heaven  and 
consumed  the  wicked  cities. 

JACOB'S  DEPARTURE  FOR  CA 
NAAN. — Jacob  had  been  instructed 
by  his  father  Isaac  not  to  take  a 
wife  from  among  the  daughters  of 
Canaan.  He  went  to  Padan-aram 
to  visit  Laban,  his  mother's  brother. 
There,  after  a  service  of  fourteen 
years,  he  obtained  Rachel,  one  of 
Laban's  daughters.  Being  thrifty, 
industrious  and  upright,  he  pros 
pered  and  gained  large  possessions. 
The  time  at  length  came  when  he 
wished  to  return  to  Canaan  to  visit 
the  relatives  from  whom  he  had 
long  been  separated.  Laban  sought 
to  detain  him,  realizing  that  his  own 
fortunes  had  been  blessed  through  the  Divine 
favor  granted  to  Jacob,  and  had  some  harsh 
things  to  say  concerning  the  contemplated 
departure.  A  Divine  message  which  came  at 
this  time  to  Jacob  determined  his  conduct  and 
brought  him  to  a  decision.  He  prepared  to 
leave,  and  take  with  him  his  wives,  children 
and  cattle.  All  finally  reached  Canaan. 


JACOB'S  DEPARTURE  FOR  CANAAN.— Gen.  xxxi.  17-40, 


BIBLE   STORIES   FOR   THE   YOUNG. 


WRESTLING  WITH  THE  ANGEL,.— Gen.  xxxii.  24 

JACOB  WRESTLING  WITH  THE  ANGEL. — All 
through  the  Bible  accounts  are  given  of  the 
visits  of  angels,  who  are  represented  as  bring 
ing  messages  to  men,  befriending  those  who 
are  in  trial,  protecting  those  who  are  in  danger, 
and  performing  various  offices  of  mercy  and 
love.     On  one  of  his  journeys  Jacob  found 
himself  alone  as  night  came  on,  and  we  are 
told  that  a  man  wrestled  with  him 
until   break  of  day.     It  was  a  re 
markable  contest,  and  the  description 
of  it  forms  one  of  the  exciting  inci 
dents  related  in  Genesis.     Jacob  was 
very  much  in  earnest,  for  he  was 
seeking  a  blessing,  and  when   the 
angel  wished  to  break  away  and  take 
his  departure,  Jacob  refused  to  let 
him  go.    The  angel  wished  to  know 
the  name  of  the  one  who  was  so 
determined  to  detain  him,  and  hav 
ing  received  the  answer  he  assured 
Jacob  that  a  new  name  should  be 
given    to    him,    and    he    would    be 
called  Israel,  the  meaning  of  which 
is  prince,  for  as  a  prince  he  had  pre 
vailed  with  God.     The  spot  where 
the  wrestling  took  place  was  consid 
ered  sacred  by  Jacob. 


MOSES  DESTROYING  THE  TABLES 
OF  THE  LAW. — In  a  little  bulrush  life 
boat  beside  the  river  Nile,  a  daugh 
ter  of  Pharaoh  one  day  found  a  little 
babe.     It   had   been   concealed  by 
its  mother  to  escape  the  decree  of 
the  king  that  every  new-born  son  of 
the  Hebrews  should  be  destroyed  to 
prevent  them   from   becoming   too 
numerous.     The  child  was  named 
Moses,  was  adopted  by  the  princess, 
and  brought  up  at  the  court  of  Egypt. 
Afterward  he  became  a  shepherd,  and 
when  the  Hebrews  were  brought  out 
of  Egypt,  where  they  had  been  in 
bondage  for  more  than  four  hundred 
years,  Moses  was  made  their  leader. 
They  departed    in   a   single   night, 
passed  the  Red  Sea,  and  soon  came 
to  Mount  Sinai,  where  they  halted 
while  Moses  went  up  into  the  rugged  mountain 
to  receive  from  God  his  law,  and  also  directions 
for  building  the  tabernacle.     During  his  ab 
sence,  which    lasted  forty  days,   the   people 
became  very  uneasy,  and  wished  Aaron   to 
make  a  god  for  them  to  worship.     He  took 
the  jewelry  of  the  women  and  made  a  golden 
calf,  and  the  people  worshipped  it. 


MOSES  DESTROYING  THE  TABLES.— Ex.  xxxii.  19. 


JOSEPH   SOLD   BY   HIS   BRETHREN 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


THE  DEATH  OF  MOSES.— Deut.  xxxiv.  5,  6. 

DEATH  OF  MOSES. — The  account  of  the 
death  of  Israel's  great  leader  and  lawgiver 
brings  to  a  close  the  history  of  a  very  remark 
able  man.  He  conducted  the  people  during 
the  forty  years  in  which  they  were  seeking  the 
promised  land,  but  he  was  not  permitted  to 
enter  the  land,  and  died  before  the  great  host 
he  had  led  so  long  crossed  over  the  river 
Jordan  to  their  new  home.  We  are 
told  that  he  went  up  to  Mount  Pis- 
gah,  and  was  there  shown  the  fair 
country  which  the  Lord  had  prom 
ised  to  his  people.  From  the  sum 
mit  of  this  mountain  he  could  look 
far  away  beyond  the  Jordan,  and 
behold  cities  and  plains,  hills  and 
valleys,  palm-trees  and  shepherds' 
pastures.  This  was  the  goodly  land 
which  the  seed  of  Abraham,  Isaac 
and  Jacob  were  to  possess.  This 
was  his  last  look  upon  earth.  His 
work  was  done  ;  his  departure  was 
at  hand.  He  was  not  old  as  age 
was  reckoned  in  those  days,  when 
men  lived  much  longer  than  they 
do  now.  His  eye  had  not  grown 
dim,  when  he  fell  asleep  at  the  age 
of  one  hundred  and  twenty. 


of  retuge. 


JOSHUA  DIVIDING  THE  LAND.~ 
After  the  death  of  Moses  the  duty 
of  settling  the  Hebrews  in  Canaan 
was  intrusted  to  Joshua.  He,  with 
Caleb,  had  come  out  of  Egypt  forty 
years  before,  and  on  account  of  theif 
uprightness  and  obedience  were  per 
mitted  to  live,  and  enjoy  the  inheri 
tance  from  which  others  had  been 
excluded.  When  the  people  came 
into  their  new  country,  a  large  part 
of  it  was  still  in  possession  of  the 
first  inhabitants.  Surveying  parties 
were  sent  out  to  measure  the  terri 
tory,  and  learn  what  would  be  re 
quired  in  the  attempt  to  conquer  it. 
Forty-eight  cities  were  set  apart  for 
the  priests  and  Levites,  and  these 
they  were  to  occupy.  The  people 
were  also  directed  to  choose  cities 
These  would  be  places  of  safety  to 


any  one  who  by  accident  had  killed  another, 
provided  he  could  reach  a  city  of  refuge  in 
advance  of  his  pursuers.  Thus  provision  was 
made  for  the  exercise  of  mercy.  The  land  was 
partitioned  and  divided  up  according  to  the 
various  tribes.  By  the  casting  of  lots  Joshua 
determined  where  the  tribes  were  to  be  located. 


DIVIDING  THE  LAND  AMONG  THE  TRIBES.- Josh.  xiii.  6,7. 


10 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


JEPHTHAH'S  RASH  VOW.— Judges  xi.  34. 

JEPHTHAH  AND  HIS  DAUGHTER. — In  olden 
times  a  vow  was  considered  as  something 
very  sacred,  and  having  once  been  made,  on 
no  consideration  could  it  be  broken.  Jeph- 
thah,  we  are  told,  was  a  mighty  man  of 
valor.  A  battle  with  the  Ammonites  was  to 
be  fought,  and  Jephthah  made  a  vow  that  if 
the  Lord  would  grant  him  the  victory  he 
would  make  a  burnt-offering  of 
whatever  met  him  at  his  own  door 
on  his  return  from  the  battle.  The 
forces  fought  with  bravery,  Jephthah 
proved  his  generalship,  and  victory 
perched  upon  his  banner.  To  his 
surprise  and  grief,  his  only  daughter 
came  out  with  music  and  dancing  to 
greet  her  father.  He  rent  his  clothes, 
and  manifested  all  the  signs  of  sor 
row  and  remorse.  He  told  his 
daughter  that  he  had  opened  his 
mouth  unto  the  Lord,  and  could  not 
take  back  his  word.  With  the  most 
dutiful  submission  she  answered  that 
if  he  had  made  a  vow  he  should  do 
as  he  had  said.  She  gave  her  life 
that  her  rash  father  might  keep  the 
word  which  never  ought  to  have 
been  spoken. 


SAMSON  AND  THE  LION. — In  the 
book  of  Judges  an  account  is  given 
of  Samson  and  his  wonderful  feats 
of  strength.  From  his  birth  he 
seems  to  have  been  marked  for  an 
extraordinary  career.  As  he  grew 
up  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  began  to 
move  him  at  times  in  the  camp  of 
Dan.  On  a  visit  to  Timnath  to  obtain 
a  wife  from  the  Philistines,  Samson 
performed  his  first  great  feat  of 
strength.  Being  met  by  a  young 
lion,  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  came 
upon  him  mightily,  and  seizing  the 
lion  he  rent  him  in  pieces.  Samson 
paid  a  visit  to  the  daughter  of  the 
Philistines  whom  he  was  seeking, 
and  she  pleased  him  well.  After  a 
time  he  returned  to  take  her,  and 
turning  aside  to  see  the  carcass  of 
the  lion  he  had  slain,  he  found  a  swarm  of 
bees  had  made  a  hive  in  it,  and  had  deposited 
honey.  He  took  away  some  of  the  honey, 
and,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  young 
men  of  the  time,  made  a  feast  and  invited  his 
companions.  The  story  in  Judges  gives  a  full 
description  of  this  feast,  and  the  failure  of 
the  young  men  to  guess  Samson's  riddle. 


SAMSON  SLAVING  A  LION.— .Judges  xiv.  6. 


BIBLE   STORIES   FOR   THE   YOUNG 


11 


SAMSON  SLAYS  THE  PHILISTINES.— Judges  xv.  16. 


SAMSON  AND  HIS  ENEMIES. — Having  been 
deceived  by  his  wife's  father,  the  narrative  states 
that  Samson  caught  three  hundred  foxes,  tied 
them  together  in  pairs,  attached  a  firebrand  to 
each  pair,  set  these  on  fire,  and  sent  the  foxes 
into  the  harvest-fields  of  the  Philistines.  The 
standing  corn,  as  well  as  that  already  cut,  and 
also  the  vineyards  and  olives,  were  burned,  and 
a  great  amount  of  injury  was  in 
flicted.  Samson  fled  to  the  top  of 
a  high  rock  and  three  thousand 
Philistines  went  to  capture  him. 
They  promised  him  that  if  he  would 
permit  himself  to  be  bound  they 
would  not  put  him  to  death.  He 
was  brought  into  camp  bound  with 
strong  cords,  but  suddenly  his  great 
strength  was  aroused,  and  he  broke 
the  cords  as  if  they  had  been  noth- 
j  ng  more  than  spiders'  threads.  Seiz 
ing  the  jawbone  of  an  ass  he  slew  a 
thousand  of  his  enemies,  and  carried 
consternation  through  their  ranks. 
We  next  find  him  at  the  city  of 
Gaza,  where  he  seized  the  gates 

o 

and  their  posts  and  carried  them 
away,  proving  that  no  city's  gates 
were  strong  enough  to  imprison  him. 


THE  GIANT  LOSES  HIS  STRENGTH. 
— The  Philistines  tried  to  capture 
their  foe  and  deprive  him  of  his 
extraordinary  strength.  Here  a 
woman  whose  name  was  Delilah 
appears  upon  the  scene,  and  we  find 
her  in  company  with  Samson  for 
the  purpose  of  ascertaining  the 
secret  of  his  power.  If  she  suc 
ceeded  she  was  to  be  rewarded  with 
a  large  sum  of  money.  Samson 
told  her  to  try  tying  him  with  seven 
cords  made  of  the  thin  branches  of 
trees.  This  was  done  when  he  was 
asleep,  but  on  waking  he  was  as 
mighty  as  ever.  Then  he  told 
Delilah  to  bind  him  with  new  ropes, 
but  these  proved  to  be  useless. 
Next  he  deceived  her  by  requesting 
that  his  hair  should  be  arranged  in 


a  certain  way.  This  also  failed.  As  Samson 
was  a  Nazarite,  his  hair  had  been  allowed  to 
grow,  and  here  was  the  secret  of  his  strength. 
In  an  unguarded  moment  he  revealed  this 
secret,  and  when  he  was  asleep  his  locks 
were  shaved  off,  his  doom  was  sealed,  and, 
having  fallen  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  his 
eyes  were  put  out,  and  he  was  thrust  into  prison. 


SAMSON  SHOKN  OF  HIS  STRENGTH.— Judges  xvu  ai. 


12 


BIBLE   STORIES   FOR   THE   YOUNG. 


SAMSON'S  VENGEANCE  AND  DEATH.— Judges  xvi. 

SAMSON  SLAIN. — The  prisoner  was  rudely 
treated.  His  victories  had  been  too  many  for 
him  now  to  escape  the  revenge  of  the  foes  who 
had  finally  captured  him.  In  his  blindness  he 
was  made  to  grind  the  mills  in  the  prison- 
house.  Samson's  hair  had  been  shorn,  but 
the  roots  remained;  it  grew  again,  and  his 
wonderful  strength  returned  tc  him,  It  was 
the  custom  of  the  people  to  invite 
him  to  their  merry-making  festivals, 
and  he  entertained  them  and  made 
himself  a  general  favorite.  The 
Philistines  were  idolaters,  and  after 
the  capture  of  Samson  they  offered 
a  great  sacrifice  to  Dagon,  their  god, 
because,  as  they  supposed,  Dagon 
had  delivered  their  foe  into  their 
hands.  A  large  number  of  the  people 
were  assembled  in  the  temple,  and  to 
this  place  Samson  was  led  by  a  boy. 
He  asked  to  be  allowed  to  feel  the 
pillars  of  the  temple.  Then  he 
grasped  them  in  his  mighty  arms, 
and  with  a  violent  shake  brought 
them  to  the  ground.  The  building 
fell,  large  numbers  were  killed,  and 
among  them  was  Samson,  who  lost 
his  life  taking  vengeance  on  his  foes. 


RUTH  AND  HER  BENEFACTOI  ~ 
The  beautiful  account  of  Ruth  given 
in  that  book  of  the  Bible  which 
bears  her  name  represents  her  as 
strongly  attached  to  Naomi,  who 
was  her  mother-in-law.  Each  had 
lost  her  husband,  and  being  com 
panions,  a  warm  affection  existed 
between  them.  From  wealth  they 
had  been  reduced  to  poverty,  and 
as  Ruth  did  not  wish  to  leave 
Naomi  and  return  to  Moab,  her 
own  land,  she  resolved  to  support 
herself  by  gleaning  in  the  fields  of 
Boaz,  a  rich  man  who  was  well 
known  for  his  kindness  to  the 
poor.  Boaz  took  a  special  interest 
in  Ruth,  told  the  workmen  to  show 
her  kindness,  and  directed  that  she 
should  glean  in  no  field  except  his 
own.  In  a  short  time  Ruth  became  the  wife 
of  her  benefactor,  Boaz,  and  one  of  the  an 
cestors  of  Christ.  The  friends  of  Naomi 
were  much  pleased  at  the  happy  lot  which 
had  befallen  Ruth,  telling  her  that  after  all 
her  trials  she  would  find  comfort  in  her 
daughter-in-law,  and  her  old  age  would  be  free 
from  care  and  sorrow. 


29, 


RUTH  GLEANING  IN  THE  FIELD  OF  BOAZ.— Rutt   ii.  5. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


PARTING  OF  DAVID  AND  JONATHAN.— I  Sam.  xx.  42. 

DAVID  AND  JONATHAN. — Saul,  the  king  of 
Israel,   was   anxious   that   his   son   Jonathan 
should  finally  come  to  the  throne,  and  as  he 
knew  David  was  likely  to  be  made  king,  he 
wished  to  put  David  to  death.     David  and 
Jonathan  were  firm  friends.     When  Jonathan  j 
became  aware  of  his  father's   plot,  he  sent 
David  away  from  the  palace.     Saul  was  en 
raged,  declaring  that  his  son  could 
never  be  king  so  long  as  his  rival 
was  alive.     But  Jonathan  was  more 
anxious  to  insure  the  safety  of  the 
one  he  dearly  loved  than  he  was  to 
gain   the  throne,  and  they  agreed 
upon  a  sign.     David  was  to   hide 
behind  a  rock,  and  Jonathan  would 
shoot  three  arrows,  and  send  a  lad 
to  pick  them  up.  If  Jonathan  should 
call  to  the  lad  that  the  arrows  were 
on  one  side  of  him,  David  would 
know  that  Saul  was  no  longer  an 
gry;     if  the    arrows    were    on    the 
other  side,  David  must  flee  for  his 
life.      David  was  compelled  to  flee, 
and  the  two  friends  separated  after 
promising  to  continue  their  love  for 
each  other,  and  each  gave  expres 
sion  to  his  grief  at  parting. 


DAVID  AND  ABIGAIL. — We  have 
here  an  interesting  incident  in  the 
life  of  David.     On  one  occasion  he 
was  encamped  near  the  residence 
of  a  man  named  Nabal,  who  was 
noted  for  his  meanness.     He  was 
unneighborly  and  ill-tempered.    Al 
though  David's  men  were  hungry, 
Nabal  refused  to  allow  them  to  take 
even   one   sheep   from    his    flocks 
which   were   feeding   near.     When 
David  sent  some  of  his  men  to  ob 
tain    food,    they    returned   without 
any,  and  reported  that  Nabal  had 
treated  them  and  their  master  with 
contempt.     The  anger  of  David  was 
aroused,  and  choosing  four  hundred 
men  he  set  out  to  deal  with  Nabal 
as   he  deserved.      Nabal's   wife,  a 
beautiful    woman    named   Abigail, 
heard  of  her  husband's  insolence,  and  taking 
a  number  of  asses  and  loading  them  with  food, 
and  mounting  one  herself,  she  started  to  meet 
David,  to  appease  his  anger,  and  save  Nabal 
from  the  merited  chastisement     In  this  she 
was  successful ;  her  appeal  to  David  was  not 
in  vain.     A  few  days  after  this  Nabal  died,  and 
David  obtained  Abigail  to  be  his  wife. 


DAVID  AND  ABIGAIL. -i  Sam.  xxv.  33,  33. 


14 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


SAUL  AND  THE  WITCH  OF  ENDOR.-i  Sam.  xxviii.  16, 17. 

he 


KING  SAUL  AND  THE  WITCH. — Saul  was  in 
great  trouble  because  his  enemies,  the  Philis 
tines,  were  preparing  to  make  war  against  him. 
They  had  a  large  army,  and  Saul  was  afraid 
they  would  obtain  the  victory.  In  his  alarm  he 
sought  the  Lord,  but  on  account  of  his  sins  the 


ELIJAH  AND  THE  WIDOW'S  SON. 
-The  prophet  Elijah  came  at  a  time 
when  a  dreadful  famine  was  in  the 
land.  He  was  sent  to  a  poor  widow 
at  Sarepta,  with  whom  he  was  to  live 
for  a  while,  and  share  her  scanty 
store.  She  had  only  a  handful  of 
meal  in  her  barrel,  and  a  little  oil  in 
her  cruse  ;  but  being  requested  by 
the  prophet  to  prepare  him  some 
thing  to  eat,  she  cheerfully  com 
plied,  and  was  assured  that  her 
stock  of  food  would  not  grow  less. 
Neither  the  barrel  nor  the  cruse 
failed,  a  happy  instance  of  the  re 
ward  that  comes  to  those  who  are 
willing  to  bless  others.  At  length 
the  son  of  the  widow  died.  In  her 
distress  and  grief  she  appealed  to 
Elijah,  whose  heart  was  touched  by 
sorrow.  He  took  the  child  away  to  his 


own  chamber,  and  called  on  God.  The  cry 
of  the  prophet  was  answered,  and  we  have  here 
the  picture  of  a  life  restored,  and  a  dead  son 
returned  to  his  mother  to  be  her  comfort  and 
joy.  Now  more  than  ever  the  woman  was 


Lord  would  not  answer  him.     Saul  consulted  |  convinced  that  Elijah  was  a  man  of  God,  and 
a  woman  at  Endor  who  professed   to  have  1  was  endowed  with  miraculous  power, 
control  over  spirits  that  would  come 
when  she  called  them.     Although 

o 

Saul  had  sent  many  such  persons 
out  of  the  kingdom,  maintaining 
that  they  were  deceivers,  yet  he  was 
ready  to  consult  this  woman.  He 
disguised  himself,  went  to  her  at 
night,  and  asked  to  have  an  inter 
view  with  Samuel,  who  had  been 
dead  many  years.  Saul  was  told 
that  the  Lord  had  forsaken  him, 
that  he  would  lose  the  kingdom 
and  it  would  be  given  to  David,  that 
the  Philistines  would  obtain  the 
victory,  and  on  the  morrow  he  and 


his  sons  would  be  among  the  dead. 
All  this  came  to  pass  as  had  been 
foretold.  David  was  an  upright  man, 
well  fitted  to  reign,  and  he  was  made 
king  in  the  place  of  Saul.  THE  WIDOW>S  SON  RESTORED  TO  LIFE.-I  Kings  xvii. «. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


15 


GOD  APPEARING  TO  ELIJAH.— i  Kings  xix.  n,  is. 


ELIJAH  AT  MOUNT  HOREB. — Elijah  in  his 
flight  from  Jezebel,  who  was  seeking  his  life 
because  he  showed  how  false  was  the  religion 
of  her  prophets,  came  to  a  juniper  tree  in  the 
desert.  Here  an  angel  brought  him  food  that 
gave  him  strength  for  forty  days.  He  con 
tinued  his  flight  to  a  rocky  mount  named 


Horeb.  Here  he  lodged  in  a  cave 
word  of  the  Lord  asked  him  what 
he  was  doing  there.  He  replied 
that  he  had  been  very  jealous  for 
the  religion  of  the  God  of  Israel, 
had  thrown  down  the  altars  of  false 
prophets,  and  his  enemies  were  now 
seeking  his  life.  He  was  directed 
to  go  and  stand  on  the  mount.  A 
strong  wind  rent  the  mountains  and 
broke  the  rock  in  pieces,  but  the 
Lord  was  not  in  the  wind.  After 
this  came  an  earthquake,  but  the 
Lord  was  not  in  the  earthquake. 
Then  a  fire  appeared,  but  the  Lord 
was  not  in  this.  When  all  these 
had  passed  there  came  a  still,  small 
voice,  and  the  prophet  knew  that 
God  was  there.  He  was  directed  to 
return  and  finish  the  work  that  had 
been  given  him  to  do. 


and  the 


THE  CHARIOT  OF  ELIJAH. — We 
are  told  that  the  manner  of  Elijah's 
departure  from  the  earth  was  in 
keeping  with  his  extraordinary 
career.  He  had  made  a  powerful 
impression  upon  the  nation,  remark 
able  deeds  had  been  performed  by 
him,  and  when  his  earthly  life  was 
ended  he  was  translated  without 
suffering  death.  He  and  Elisha 
were  walking  together,  and  Elisha 
expressed  the  earnest  desire  that  a 
double  portion  of  the  spirit  of  his 
friend  and  companion  might  rest 
upon  himself.  Elijah  replied  that 
this  was  a  hard  thing  to  be  granted, 
but  if  Elisha  should  see  him  when 
he  departed,  the  blessing  which  was 
sought  might  be  obtained.  Sud 
denly  there  appeared  a  chariot  of 


fire,  with  flaming  steeds,  and  Elijah  was  soon 
lost  to  view.  Elisha  exclaimed,  "  My  father, 
my  father,  the  chariot  of  Israel,  and  the  horse 
men  thereof! "  The  chariot  and  horsemen 
were  emblems  of  power  and  victory,  and  the 
exclamation  meant  that  Elijah  was  the  great 
helper  and  defender  of  Israel.  His  mantle, 
fell  toward  the  earth,  and  Elisha  secured  it. 


THE  TRANSLATION  OF  ELIJAH — a  Kings  ii.  u 


16 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE    YOUNG. 


DANIEL  IN  THE  LIONS'  DEN.— Dan.  vi.  19,  30. 

DANIEL  AMONG  THE  LIONS. — At  the   time 
of  the  captivity,  when  the  greater  part  of  the 
Jewish  nation  was  carried  away  to  Babylon,  a 
remarkable  youth   was   among   the    number. 
Daniel    secured    the   favor   of   the   king    of 
Babylon  by  his  interpretation  of  dreams,  and 
his  sturdy,  upright  character.     He  believed  in 
the  religion  of  the  Hebrews,  and  when  com 
manded  to  cease  performing  his  re 
ligious  duties  for  a  certain  number 
of  days,  he  flatly  refused.     Some 
jealousy  had  been  excited  against 
him  on  account  of  the  power  he  had 
gained  in  the  nation,  and  his  enemies 
thought    they    would    obtain    ad 
vantage  over  him  by  forbidding  him 
to  pray,  under  penalty  of  being  cast 
into   a   den   of  lions.     The  king's 
heart    was    troubled,    but    having 
signed  the  law  he  was   resolved  to 
carry  it  into  execution.    Daniel  was 
cast  to  the  wild  beasts,  and  early  in 
the  morning  the  king  hastened  to 
see   what    was    his    fate.       Daniel 
assured    him    that    his    God    was 
able  to  shut  the  mouths  of  lions, 
and,    by    his    angel,    had    already 
done  it,  so  that  he  was  unharmed. 


JUDITH    AND    HOLOFERNLS. — Ju 
dith  was  a  Hebrew  woman  of  strong 
will,  great  decision  of  character,  and, 
in  her  blind  zeal,  capable  of  any  deed 
which  she  thought  would  promote 
her   religion    and   confound   God's 
enemies.     She  was  even  ready  to 
take  human    life,  and  commit  the 
crime    of    murder,   under   pretence 
of     thereby    accomplishing     some 
good.     Holofernes  was   considered 
to  be  the  enemy  of  her  nation,  and 
believing  she  had  authority  to  de 
stroy  all  such  she  took  his  life.    Pre 
tending  to  be  friendly,  she  gained 
access  to  his  tent,  fascinated  him  by 
her  beauty  and  wit,  gained  his  con 
fidence  by  fair  speeches,  and  soon 
had  him  completely  in  her  power. 
When  he  was  under  the  influence 
of  wine  she  took  down  his  falchion,  and  with 
a   double   blow   severed   his   head  from   the 
body,  and  handed  it  over  to  her  maid.     Her 
plot   had    succeeded,  and   her  deed  was  ap 
plauded  by  her  own  people.     When  they  saw 
her  at  the  gate  of  the  city  with  the  head  of 
Holofernes,  they  praised  God  for  thus  deliver 
ing  them  from  the  hand  of  their  enemy. 


JUDITH  BEHEADS  HOLOFERNES.— Judith  xiii.  9,  ZO. 


JUDGMENT  OP    SOLOMON. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


BIRTH  OF  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.— Luke  i.  6a-«4o 

JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. — It  was  foretold  by  the  people, 
prophet  Malachi  that  previous  to  the  advent  that  a 
of    Christ   a   forerunner,   or   prophet,   would 
appear  to  prepare  the  way  for  him.     His  duty 
would  be  to  call  the  people  to  repentance,  and 
announce  that  the  kingdom  of  God  was  at 
hand.     During  the  reign  of  King  Herod  in 
Judaea  there  was  a  priest  named  Zacharias; 
the  name  of  his  wife  was  Elizabeth. 
An  angel  appeared  to  Zacharias  one 
day  in  the  Temple,  and  announced 
that  he  would  have  a  son,  and  was 
to   give   him    the   name   of   John. 
Zacharias  was  told  that  he  would 
be  unable  to  speak  until  the  child 
was   born.     The   people  wondered 
why  the  priest  remained  so  long  in 
the  Temple,  and  when  he  came  out 
they  saw  that  he  was  dumb.     The 
promised  son  was  born,  and  when  he 
was  eight  days  old  he  was  brought  to 
the  Temple.     The  people  wished  to 
name  him  after  his  father,  but  the 
mother  insisted  upon  calling   him 
Jolin.     They  objected  because  none 
of  his  kindred  bore  that  name,  but 
Zacharias  wrote  on  a  tablet  that  John 
was  to  be  the  child's  name. 
M 


THE    AiNur.jL    ANNOUNCES     THE 
SAVIOUR'S  BIRTH. — In  Judaea,  near 
the  village  of  Bethlehem,  there  were 
shepherds  who  watched  their  flocks 
by  night.     The  time  had  come  for 
Christ  to  be  born.     As  far  back  as 
the   days   of  Adam   and  Eve   the 
Divine  assurance  had  been    given 
that  the  seed  of  the  woman  should 
bruise  the  head  of  the  serpent,  and 
sin  would  be  destroyed.     The  birth 
of  John  the  Baptist  was  the  sure 
sign   that   one   greater   than   John 
would  soon  come.     As   the  shep 
herds  were   guarding  their  flocks 
one  night  an  angel  suddenly  visited 
them.     They  were  afraid,  but  were 
told  by  the  angel  not  to  fear,  for  a 
message  of  great  joy  had  been  sent 
to  them,  which  was  to  be  for  all 
The  happy  announcement  was  made 
Saviour    was    born    in     Bethlehem. 
Suddenly  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host 
appeared,  praising  God,  and  saying,  "  Glory 
to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good 
will  toward  men."     The  shepherds  hastened  to 
Bethlehem,  and,  to  their  surprise  and  joy,  found 
that  what  the  angel  told  them  was  true. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  SHEPHERDS. —Luke  ii.  10,  11. 


BIBLE  STORIES  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


THE  BIRTH  OF  CHRIST.— Luke  ii.  i»-x». 

THE  NATIVITY. — The  shepherds  who  had 
heard  the  song  of  the  angels  and  the  statement 
that  a  Saviour  had  been  born,  left  their  flocks 
and  went  to  Bethlehem  to  see  what  had  come 
to  pass.  Naturally  excited  over  the  glad 
tidings  brought  to  them,  they  made  haste,  and 
when  they  arrived  in  the  village  they  were  re 
warded  by  a  sight  of  the  new-born  child. 
There  they  found  Mary  and  Joseph, 
and  the  babe  lying  in  a  manger. 
The  shepherds  having  satisfied 
themselves  of  the  truth  of  the  mes 
sage  brought  by  the  angel,  hurried 
away  with  the  joyful  news,  and 
spread  the  glad  tidings  to  others. 
All  who  heard  what  had  happened 
were  filled  with  wonder.  We  are 
told  that  Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus, 
kept  these  things  in  her  heart,  and 
thought  about  them.  The  shep 
herds  returned  to  their  flocks,  glo 
rifying  and  praising  God  for  all  the 
things  they  had  seen  and  heard. 
This  is  the  beautiful  description 
given  us  of  the  birth  of  Jesus. 
Every  Christmas  we  celebrate  the 
advent  of  Christ,  whose  name  is 
Wonderful. 


THE  FLIGHT  INTO  EGYPT. — The 
parents  of  Jesus  brought  him  to 
the  Temple  at  Jerusalem.  They 
could  not  remain  there ;  their  first 
concern  was  to  save  the  young  life 
committed  to  their  love  and  care. 
They  knew  the  cruelty  of  Herod, 
and  his  wicked  design  to  slay  the 
children,  in  the  hope  that  Jesus 
would  be  among  the  number.  They 
obeyed  the  Divine  warning,  and 
taking  their  young  treasure  fled 
with  all  possible  speed  to  Egypt, 
a  country  which  was  outside  of 
Herod's  dominions.  There  was  a 
place  of  safety,  and  having  reached 
it,  they  remained  until  the  death  of 
Herod  put  an  end  to  his  ambition 
and  cruelty.  Then  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  appeared  again  unto  Joseph, 
assured  him  that  those  who  sought  the  life  of 
the  child  were  dead,  and  directed  him  to  return 
to  his  own  country.  He  did  so,  and  made  his 
home  in  the  despised  town  of  Nazareth,  where 
the  early  life  of  Jesus  was  spent  Thus  the 
prophecies  were  fulfilled  that  Israel's  ruler 
would  come  out  of  Egypt  and  would  be  a  de 
spised  Nazarene,  one  of  the  poor  and  lowly. 


THE  FLIGHT  INTO  EGYPT.-MaU.  ii.  14, 15, 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


DEATH  OF  THE  CHILDREN  OF  BETHLEHEM.  — Matt.  ii.  16. 

PUTTING  THE  CHILDREN  TO  DEATH. — It 
was  expected  by  Herod  that  the  wise  men 
who  were  seeking  the  child,  whose  name,  ac- 

o 

cording  to  the  prophet  Isaiah,  was  Wonderful, 
would  return  to  him  at  Jerusalem  after  their 
visit  to  Bethlehem.      They  found   the   mar 
velous  babe,  presented  their  gifts,  and  wor 
shipped  at  His  feet.     They  did   not  return, 
however,  to  Jerusalem.    The  history 
tells  us  that  they  were  warned  by 
God  in  a  dream  not  to  go  back  to 
Herod,  and  so  they  departed  to  their 
own  country  by  another  way.    This 
apparent  slight  on  the  part  of  the 
wise  men  made  Herod  very  angry ; 
it  looked  very  much  as  if  one  had 
been  born  who  was  expected  to  be 
come  king  of  the  Jews.     He  gave 
orders  for  all  the  male  children  in 
Bethlehem  and  in  all  the  borders 
thereof  to  be  put  to  death.     There 
was  great  sorrow  in  the  land,  and 
the  prophecy  of  Jeremiah  was   ful 
filled  that  the:  °  would  be  weeping 
and  mourning.     The  object  of  the 
horrible  massucre  was   not  accom 
plished,  although  many  lives  were 
sacrificed. 


JESUS  BROUGHT  TO  THE  TEMPLE, 
— As   already  stated,   when   Jesus 
was   eight   days   old   His    parents 
brought  Him  to  the  Temple  to  make 
an  offering  of  two  pigeons,  accord 
ing  to  Jewish  custom.     There  was 
a  good  old  man  at  Jerusalem  named 
Simeon.     It  had  been  revealed  to 
him  by  the  Spirit  that  he  should 
not   die   until  he  had  seen  Jesus. 
He   was    directed    to    go    to    the 
Temple,    and    when    Joseph     and 
Mary   appeared   with    their   child, 
Simeon    knew  that  he  was   to  be 
gratified  by  a  sight  of  the  infant 
Saviour.      The  old  man  took  the 
child  in  his  arms,  blessed  God,  and 
said,  "  Now  lettestThou  Thy  servant 
depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have 
seen  Thy  salvation."     The  parents 
of  Jesus  wondered  at  the  things  which  were 
spoken  concerning  Him.     Simeon  blessed  the 
child,  and  told  His  mother  that  through  Him 
many  would  receive  a  blessing,  while  a  woe 
would  come  to  others.     A  prophetess,  named 
Anna,  was  also  present,  and  she,  too,  gave 
thanks.     The  Jews  had  the  happy  custom  of 
taking  young  children  to  the  Temple. 


THE  PRESENTATION  IN  THE  TEMPLE — Luke  ii.  27,  aft. 


20 


BIBLE  STORIES  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


CHRIST  TEACHES  IN  THE  TEMPLE.-Luke  ii.  46, 47* 


CHRIST  IN  THE  TEMPLE. — The  most  im 
portant  feast  of  the  Jews  was  the  Passover,  and 
the  parents  of  Jesus  were  accustomed  to  go  to 
Jerusalem  every  year  to  attend  it.  When  Jesus 
was  twelve  years  old  He  accompanied  His 
parents.  After  the  feast  was  over  they  started 
to  return  to  their  home,  but  He  remained  be 
hind.  It  was  not  long  before  they  missed 
Him,  but  supposed  He  was  in  com 
pany  with  their  relatives,  who  were 
with  them  on  the  journey.  Failing 
to  find  Him,  they  became  very 
anxious,  and  went  back  to  Jeru 
salem  in  search  of  Him.  After 
three  days  they  discovered  Him  in 
the  Temple  talking  with  the  learned 
doctors,  and  showing  such  wisdom 
as  astonished  His  hearers.  They 
were  amazed  that  one  so  young 
should  have  such  knowledge  and 
understanding  of  the  Scriptures. 
When  His  parents  asked  Him  why 
He  had  forsaken  them,  He  replied : 
"Do  you  not  know  that  I  must 
be  about  my  Father's  business  ?  " 
Thus  early  in  life  He  showed  the 
spirit  of  obedience  to  His  Father's 
will,  and  set  us  a  good  example. 


JESUS  AND  THE  MoNEvr-Cn  ANGERS. 
— At  the  feast  of  the  Passover  offer 
ings  were  made  as  a  part  of  worship, 
and  persons  who  desired  to  make  a 
profit  by  the  sale  of  animals  offered 
in  sacrifice  had  gone  to  the  Temple, 
taken  possession  of  the  court  of  the 
Gentiles,  and  converted  it  into  a 
place  for  buying  and  selling.  There 
were  also  those  who  made  a  busi 
ness  of  exchanging  Roman  money 
for  Jewish  money,  and  gained  some 
thing  by  the  transaction.  Jesus  was 
very  indignant  when  He  found  that 
one  part  of  the  Temple  was  used  for 
a  market.  Seeing  those  who  were 
engaged  in  the  business  of  selling 
offerings  and  changing  money,  He 
made  a  whip  of  small  cords,  and 
drove  them  out,  telling  them  it  was 


written  that  the  house  of  God  should  be  a 
place  of  prayer,  but  they  had  made  it  a  den 
of  thieves.  The  tables  were  overturned,  the 
money  was  poured  on  the  ground,  the  animals 
were  driven  away,  and  all  unlawful  traffic 
ceased  in  the  courts  of  the  Lord's  house.  He 
had  a  better  right  to  drive  out  the  "  thieves  " 
than  they  had  to  carry  on  their  trade  there. 


JESUS  DRIVES  OUT  THE  MONEY-CHANGERS.— John  ii.  15,  16. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


21 


CHRIST  TEACHES  NICODEMUS.— John  iii.  2,3, 

CHRIST  AND  NICODEMUS. — One  of  the  rulers 
of  the  Jews,  a  man  named  Nicodemus,  came 
to  Jesus  one  night  to  learn  more  of  Him  and 
His  doctrine.     Jesus  began  at  once  to  instruct 
him,  told  him  many  things  he  did  not  know 
before,  and  some  things  hard  to  be  understood, 
among  them  the  mystery  of  the  new  birth. 
When  Nicodemus  was  not  able  to  fully 
.stand  what  was  said  to  him,  Jesus 
spoke  of  something  that  happened 
a  long  time  before  when  the  chil 
dren  of  Israel  were  in  the  wilder 
ness.     The  people  had  been  bitten 
by  poisonous  serpents,  and  to  save 
them   from   death   Moses   was   di 
rected  to  make  a  brazen  'serpent, 
place  it   on   a   pole    in   the   camp 
where  all  could  see  it,  and  those 
who  looked  upon  it  would  be  healed. 
Just  so,  said  Jesus  to  Nicodemus, 
the  Son  of  man  must  be  lifted  up, 
and  those  who  turn  the  eye  of  faith 
to  Him  will  receive  the  blessing  of 
life  and  forgiveness.     We  read  of 
Nicodemus  after  this,  and  are  told 
that  he  was  among  the  friends  of 
Jesus  who  stood  by  Him  faithfully 
to  the  last. 


THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMARIA. — Jesus 
had  been  in  Judaea,  and  was  return 
ing  to  Galilee.  On  his  way  He 
passed  through  Samaria,  and  He 
and  His  disciples  came  to  Jacob's 
well.  Being  weary  with  His  jour 
ney,  He  sat  down  to  rest  while  the 
disciples  went  into  a  village  not  far 
away  to  procure  food.  A  woman 
of  Samaria  came  to  the  well,  and 
He  asked  for  water  to  drink.  The 
woman  was  surprised  at  this  request 
because  the  Jews  and  Samaritans 
had  no  dealings  with  one  another. 
Jesus  made  use  of  the  water  as  an 
emblem  of  the  water  of  life,  assur 
ing  the  woman  that  those  who 
drank  of  that  would  never  thirst 
again.  She  asked  that  this  water 

o 

might  be  given  to  her.  Then  He 
spoke  of  her  past  life,  and  by  convincing  her 
that  He  knew  all  about  it,  convinced  her  also 
that  He  was  a  prophet.  She  told  Him  she 
knew  Messias  would  come,  who  is  called 
Christ.  He  answered,  "I  that  speak  unto 
thee  am  He."  Many  people  in  the  city  be 
lieved  on  Him  on  account  of  what  He  said  to 
this  woman,  and  became  His  followers. 


CHRIST  AND  THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMARIA.— John  iv.  *.SS. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


CHRIST  RAISES  THE  WIDOW'S  SON.— Luke  vii.  14, 15. 


The 


THE  WIDOW'S  SON  RESTORED  TO  LIFE. — 
The  Biblical  narrative  points  in  numerous 
instances  to  works  of  Christ  which  showed 
that  He  was  possessed  of  all  power.  One  day 
He  came  to  the  city  of  Nain,  and  was  accom 
panied  by  His  disciples  and  a  large  number 
of  people.  As  He  approached  the  gate  of  the 
city  a  funeral  procession  was  passing  out 
only  son  of  a  widowed  mother  had 
died,  and  the  relatives  and  friends 
were  on  their  way  to  bury  him. 
The  scene  touched  the  heart  of 
Jesus,  and  with  great  compassion 
and  tenderness  He  said  to  the  be 
reaved  mother,  "  Weep  not."  He 
put  His  hand  upon  the  bier,  and 
those  who  were  carrying  it  stood 
still.  Then  He  said,  "  Young  man, 
I  say  unto  thee,  arise !  "  His  omnip 
otent  voice  pierced  the  ear  of  death, 
and  new  life  quivered  through  the 
body  which  a  moment  before  was 
cold  and  stiff.  The  young  man  sat 
up,  and  began  to  speak.  Jesus 
gave  him  back  to  his  rejoicing 
mother.  This  miracle,  which  was 
performed  in  the  presence  of  a  large 
•ompany,  filled  them  with  awe. 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  JAIRUS. — A 
ruler  of  the  synagogue,  Jairus  by 
name,  came  to  Jesus  and  informed 
Him  that  his  daughter  was  lying  at 
the  point  of  death,  and  requested 
Him  to  go  to  the  house  and  lay  His 
hands  upon  her  that  she  might  be 
healed.  Soon  certain  persons  ar 
rived  who  told  Jairus  that  his 
daughter  was  already  dead,  and 
asked  why  he  should  trouble  the 
Master  any  further.  Jesus  told  him 
not  to  fear,  but  to  believe.  He  took 
with  him  Peter,  and  James,  and 
John,  and  went  to  the  ruler's  house, 
|  where  a  number  of  persons  were 
assembled.  When  Jesus  asked  why 
they  wept,  and  assured  them  that 
the  maid  was  not  dead,  but  only 
asleep,  they  laughed  Him  to  scorn. 


The  first  thing  to  do  was  to  put  the  scoffers 
out  of  the  house.  This  He  did,  and  taking 
the  father  and  mother,  and  the  disciples  who 
were  with  Him,  He  entered  the  room  where 
the  damsel  was  lying.  Grasping  her  hand, 
He  called  upon  her  to  arise.  To  the  astonish 
ment  of  all  she  immediately  obeyed,  arose  to 
her  feet,  and  walked  as  well  as  ever. 


CHRIST  RAISES  THE  DAUGHTER  OF  JAIRUS.— Matt-  v. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE   YOUNG. 


23 


SENDING  FORTH  THE  TWELVE  APOSTLES.— Matt.  x.  5-7. 

THE    TWELVE    APOSTLES. — The  time  had 
come  for  the  glad  tidings  to  be  made  known, 
and  Jesus  sent  out  His  disciples,  telling  them 
to  go  first  to  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of 
Israel,  because  they  were  the  chosen  people 
of  God,  and  the  Gospel  must  be  preached  to 
them  first.     They  were  to  announce  that  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  was  at  hand.     Power  was 
given  them  to  cure  diseases,  and  do 
many  other  wonderful    things.     A 
good  Providence  would  watch  over 
them,  and  therefore  they  were  not 
to  take  any  money  in  their  purses, 
nor  were  they  to  provide  themselves 
with  two  coats.     They  were  to  go 
without   shoes   for   their  feet,  and 
without  even  a  staff  for  the  journey. 
When  they  entered  a  city  they  were 
to  find  out  who  were  worthy,  and 
there  make  their  abode.     On  enter 
ing  a  house  they  were  to  salute  it, 
and  their  peace  was  to  rest  upon  it, 
if  it  was  worthy ;  if  not,  the  blessing 
of  peace  was  not  to  be  given.     If 
they  were  not  well   received,  they 
were  to  depart,  and,  as  a  sign  of 
righteous  resentment,  they  were  to 
shake  off  the  dust  of  their  feet 


JESUS  AND  PETER  ON  THE  WATER. 
— Jesus  had  directed  His  disciples  to 
get  into  a  boat,  and  cross  to  the  other 
side  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.   The  wind 
that  night  was  high, and  the  disciples 
were  in  danger.     During  the  fourth 
watch  of  the  night,  or  some  time 
after  three  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
Jesus  went  to  them,  walking  on  the 
water.     They  saw  Him,  and  were  in 
great  fear  and  trouble.     They  sup 
posed  they  had  met  a  spirit,  and 
they  were  alarmed.     Jesus  at  once 
quieted  them  by  saying, "  Be  of  good 
cheer ;  it  is  I ;  be  not  afraid."    Peter 
replied,  "  If  it  be  Thou,  bid  me  come 
unto   Thee  on   the  water."     Jesus 
took  him  at  his  word,  and  told  him 
to  come.     Peter  stepped  out  of  the 
boat  and   made   the   attempt,   but 
finding  Jie   wind   very  boisterous,   and    the 
waves  very  high,  his  courage  failed,  and  he 
began  to  sink.     Jesus  immediately  stretched 
forth  His  hand  and  caught  him ;  and  rebuked 
him  for  his  lack  of  faith.     When  they  had 
entered  the  boat  the  wind  ceased,  and  the  dis 
ciples  worshipped  Jesus,  saying,  "  Of  a  truth 
Thou,  art  the  Son  of  God." 


JESUS  SAVES  PETER  FRQM  SINKING.— Matt.  xiv.  30, 


24 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN.— Luke  x.  33,  34. 

THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN. — A  certain  lawyer 
asked  what  a  person  was  to  do  to  inherit 
eternal  life.  Jesus  told  him  to  love  God  with 
all  his  might,  and  his  neighbor  as  himself. 
The  lawyer  immediately  asked,  "  Who  is  my 
neighbor  ?  "  The  reply  was  stated  in  the  form 
of  a  parable,  namely,  that  a  man  who  was  on 
his  way  from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho  fell  among 
thieves,  and  was  not  only  robbed, 
but  was  severely  injured.  The  high 
waymen  fled,  leaving  him  half  dead. 
A  priest  came  along,  a  man  who 
might  have  been  expected  to  be 
friend  a  sufferer,  but  he  passed  by 
on  the  other  side.  A  Levite  did 
the  same,  and  left  the  wounded  man 
to  his  fate.  Then  came  a  Samar 
itan,  and  although  the  Samaritans 
had  no  dealings  with  the  Jews,  he 
took  pity  on  the  poor  sufferer,  had 
him  conveyed  to  the  nearest  inn, 
directed  that  he  should  receive  good 
care,  promising  on  his  return  to  pay 
all  the  expense.  The  lawyer  saw 
at  once  from  this  story  who  was 
the  neighbor,  and  was  directed  to 
go  and  show  to  others  a  similar 
spirit. 


THE  LOST  FOUND. — We  have 
here  the  picture  of  a  wanderer  who 
went  away  to  another  country. 
There  he  fell  in  with  bad  company, 
became  a  spendthrift,  and  at  length 
his  money  was  all  wasted.  A  dis 
tressing  famine  came  upon  the 
country,  and  he  was  in  great  want ; 
he  would  have  been  glad  to  get  the 
husks  that  were  eaten  by  the  swine, 
but  no  one  gave  him  even  these. 
His  condition  was  very  different 
from  what  it  had  been  in  the  com 
fortable  home  he  had  forsaken. 
Having  returned  to  his  senses,  he 
began  to  think  of  the  hired  servants 
in  his  father's  house  who  had  more 
than  enough  for  all  their  wants, 
while  he  was  perishing  with  hunger. 
He  resolved  to  go  back ;  and  when 
his  father  saw  him  coming  he  ran  out  to 
meet  him,  gave  him  the  kiss  of  love,  and 
welcomed  him  home.  The  best  robe  and 
ring  were  put  upon  him,  and  there  was  great 
rejoicing  in  the  household.  Nothing  was 
too  good  for  him  now,  for  "  he  that  was  lost 
was  found,  and  he  that  was  dead  was  brought 
to  life."  Both  father  and  son  were  happy 


THE  RETURN  OF  THE  PRODIGAL.  SON.-Luke  xv. 


THE    NATIVITY. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR   THE   YOUNG. 


25 


JESUS  BLESSING  LITTLE  CHILDREN.— Mark  x. 

"  SUFFER  LITTLE  CHILDREN  TO  COME  UNTO 
ME." — The  Jewish  mothers  naturally  wished 
to  bring  their  children  to  Jesus  that  they  might 
receive  His  blessing.  This  was  something 
that  pleased  Him,  yet  gave  offence  to  His  dis 
ciples.  They  appeared  to  think  He  could  not 
be  expected  to  take  any  notice  of  little  chil 
dren,  and  so  they  attempted  to  prevent  the 
mothers  from  gaining  His  attention, 
and  were  ready  to  rebuke  those  who 
were  seeking  His  blessing.  When 
Jesus  saw  this  He  was  displeased. 
He  knew  that  childhood,  which  is 
the  forming  period  of  the  whole 
life,  was  not  to  be  despised ;  and, 
"resides,  there  was  too  much  love  in 
His  heart  to  exclude  even  a  little 
one.  The  words  spoken  by  Him 
on  this  occasion  are  familiar  to  all 
readers  of  the  Bible.  Having  said, 
"  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come 
unto  me,"  He  took  them  in  His 
arms,  put  His  loving  hands  upon 
them,  and  blessed  them.  The 
Jewish  mothers  vvere  made  very 
happy  that  day  on  account  of 
the  love  shown  by  Jesus  to  the 
little  ones, 


THE  Box  OF  OINTMENT. — Jesus 
came  to  Bethany,  a  little  village 
a  short  distance  from  Jerusalem. 
There  was  the  residence  of  Martha 
and  Mary  and  Lazarus,  in  whose 
house  He  had  frequently  been  a 
guest.  Here,  on  this  occasion,  a 
feast  was  made  for  Him  in  the  house 
of  Simon,  the  leper.  He  received 
a  beautiful  expression  of  affection 
from  Mary,  who,  we  are  told  else 
where,  had  sat  at  His  feet,  heard 
His  words,  and  chosen  the  good 
part  which  would  not  be  taken  away 
from  her.  Mary  brought  a  box  of 
ointment  of  spikenard,  very  pre 
cious,  and  anointed  His  head  and 
feet.  It  appeared  to  the  disciples 
to  be  simply  a  waste  of  money. 
24«  Jesus  commended  her  act,  saying 

she  had  come  to  anoint  Him  for  His  burial, 
which  was  near.  She  had  done  what  she 
could,  and  this  offering  of  her  heart  was  grate 
fully  accepted.  Wherever  the  Gospel  should 
be  preached  this  anointing  by  Mary  would  be 
spoken  of  for  a  memorial  of  her.  This  has 
come  true,  for  whoever  has  heard  the  Gospel 
has  heard  of  this  act  of  Mary  of  Bethany. 


MARY  ANOINTING  JESUS. -Mark  xiv.  3. 


BIBLE   STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


CHRIST'S  ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM.— Matt.  xxi.  8,9. 

CHRIST  WELCOMED  WITH  HOSANNAS.— The 


narrative  in  the  Gospels  states  that  when  Jesus 
and  His  disciples  came  nigh  to  Jerusalem,  He 
sent  two  of  them  to  bring  Him  a  colt  on  which 
no  man  had  ever  riden.  If  the  owner  asked 
any  questions,  or  made  objection  to  their 
taking  the  colt,  they  were  simply  to  say  that 
the  Lord  had  sent  them.  This  proved  to  be 
sufficient,  and  having  obtained  the 
colt  the  disciples  put  their  clothes 
on  him  and  placed  Jesus  thereon. 
As  He  rode  along  He  was  greeted 
by  a  great  multitude  who  spread 
their  garments  in  the  way,  while 
others  cut  down  branches  from  the 
jrees  and  strewed  them  in  His  path, 
seeking  thus  to  show  their  respect. 
Crowds  went  before  Him, and  others 
followed.  We  are  told  that  they 
cried,  saying,  "  Hosanna  to  the  Son 
of  David ;  blessed  is  He  that  cometh 
in  the  name  of  the  Lord;  ho- 
sanna  in  the  highest !  "  He  passed 
through  the  gate,  and  found  the 
people  were  greatly  moved  on  ac 
count  of  His  coming.  His  tri 
umphal  entry  was  ended.  Soon  the 
sad  cry  was  heard,  "Away  with  Him!" 


WASHING  THE  DISCIPLES'  FEET. 
— There  had  been  a  dispute  among 
the  disciples  as  to  who  should  be 
greatest,  and  Jesus  wished  to  show 
them  that  His  true  followers  are 
humble,  and  to  serve  is  their  highest 
calling.  The  Jews  had  the  custom 
of  washing  the  feet  of  their  guests; 
this  was  something  commonly  done 
by  the  servants  of  the  household. 
The  last  supper  being  over,  Jesus 
took  a  towel  and  basin  of  water,  and 
began  to  wash  the  feet  of  His  dis 
ciples.  Peter  was  surprised  that 
Jesus  should  do  such  a  thing,  and 
said  he  would  not  allow  it  Jesus 
replied  that  although  what  He  did 
now  was  not  understood  by  Peter, 
it  would  be  hereafter ;  He  also  as 
sured  the  impulsive  disciple  that  he 
could  have  no  place  in  the  new  kingdom 


unless  he  was  submissive,  and  willing  to  have 
this  act  of  service  performed.  Peter  then  told 
Jesus  to  wash  not  only  his  feet,  but  also  his 
hands  and  his  head.  Christ  assured  the  dis 
ciples  that  He  had  done  this  to  set  them 
an  example  of  humility,  and  show  them  how 
they  ought  to  love  and  serve  one  another. 


CHRIST  WASHES  HIS  DISCIPLES'  FEET.— John  xiii.  3-5. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


27 


This 


THE  END  OF  JUDAS  ISCARIOT.—  Matt,  xxvii.  3-5. 

A  TRAITOR. — There  was  one  disciple  who 
was  unlike  all  the  others.     He  was  fond  of 
money,  and   was  willing  to  do  anything  to 
obtain  it.     This  man  betrayed  Christ,  and  for 
thirty  pieces  of  silver  sold  Him  to  the  chief 
priests,  and  aided  in  His  arrest  and  condemna 
tion.     A  sign  was  agreed  upon  between  Judas 
and  the  men  who  came  to  take  Jesus, 
sign  was  a  kiss.     When  the  hour 
arrived,  and  the  men  were  ready  to 
make  the  arrest,  Judas  went  to  Jesus, 
exclaimed,  "  Master,  Master,"  and 
kissed   Him.      Jesus   said   to  him, 
"  Judas,  dost  thou  betray  me  with  a 
kiss  ?  "     Then  the  men  laid  hands 
on  Jesus  and  took  Him.     At  this 
moment  all  the  disciples  left  Him 
and  fled.     Judas,  seeing  now  that 
his  wicked  act  of   betrayal  would 
result  in  the  death  of  Jesus,  became 
alarmed,  and   bringing   the   thirty 
pieces  of  silver  threw  them  down 
before  the  high  priest,  saying  he 
had  betrayed  one  who  was  innocent 
The   history   states    that   he   then 
went  away  and  hanged  himself.    No 
name  is  more  despised  than  that  of 
Judas  Iscariot. 


CHRIST   BEARING   His  CROSS.— 
After  Jesus  was  sentenced  to  death, 
the  Roman  soldiers  took  off  His 
purple  robe  and  put  upon  Him  His 
own  clothes.    He  was  scourged,  and 
was  made  the  victim  of  every  pos 
sible  insult  and  indignity.     The  ex 
cited  crowd  jeered  and  mocked  Him, 
and  in  derision  called  Him  the  king 
of  the  Jews.     When  the  hour  ar 
rived  for  Him  to  be  put  to  death 
His  cross  was  laid  on  Him,  and  He 
was  led  away  to  Golgotha,  the  place 
where  criminals  were  executed.    He 
was  already  weary  with  His  suffer 
ings,  and  His  strength  was  not  equal 
to  bearing  the  heavy  load ;  He  sank 
down  under  it,  exhausted  and  help 
less.     A  certain  man  named  Simon, 
a  Cyrenian,  was  there,  and  the  mob 
laid  hold  of  him,  put  the  cross  upon  him,  and 
made   him    carry  it.      A  great   company  of 
people,  including  women,  followed,  and  ex 
pressed  the'r  sorrow  at  the  sufferings  of  one 
whom  they  had  come  to  love.     Jesus  told  the 
daughters  of  Jerusalem  not  to  weep  for  him. 
Two  thieves  were  in  the  company,  who  were 
also  sentenced  to  death. 


CHRIST  FALLS  UNDER  THE  CROSS.— Luke  xxjij. 


28 


BIBLE   STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


THE  CRUCIFIXION.— John  xix.  28-30. 

CHRIST  CRUCIFIED. — In  his  last  hour  Jesus 
showed  His  love  for  His  mother,  and  His 
anxiety  for  her  future  welfare.  He  asked  her 
to  henceforth  look  upon  John  as  her  son,  and 
told  John  to  regard  her  as  his  mother.  John 
afterward  took  her  to  his  own  house,  and  gave 
her  a  home.  After  this  Jesus  said,  "  I  thirst." 
A  sponge  filled  with  vinegar  was  offered  Him. 
In  the  accompanying  engraving  may 
be  seen  an  inscription  of  four  letters 
written  upon  the  cross ;  the  meaning 
of  these  is,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  King 
of  the  Jews  " — an  inscription  placed 
there  in  mockery.  On  each  side  of 
Him  was  one  of  the  thieves  who  had 
also  been  condemned  to  death.  One 
of  them  asked  the  Lord  to  remem 
ber  him  when  He  came  into  His 
kingdom.  He  was  assured  by 
Jesus  that  he  would  be  in  Paradise 
that  day.  One  of  the  most  remark 
able  utterances  of  Christ  on  the 
cross  was  His  dying  prayer  for  His 
enemies,  asking  His  Father  to  for 
give  them,  for  they  knew  not  what 
they  did.  The  crucifixion  lasted 
from  the  morning  until  the  middle 
gf  the  afternoon. 


JESUS  BURIED. — If  was  contrary 
to  Jewish  custom  to  allow  the 
bodies  of  those  who  had  been  cruci 
fied  to  hang  upon  the  cross  over 
the  Sabbath.  A  request  was  there 
fore  made  to  Pilate,  the  Roman 
governor,  that  the  body  of  Jesus, 
with  those  of  the  malefactors, 
should  be  removed.  The  soldiers 
came  to  break  their  legs,  as  was 
customary,  but  Jesus  being  already 
dead,  His  body  was  not  molested, 
and  so  the  prophecy  was  fulfilled 
that  not  a  bone  of  Him  should  be 
broken.  A  rich  man,  Joseph  by 
name,  had  a  new  tomb  in  a  gar 
den  near  Golgotha,  and  having  ob 
tained  the  body  of  Jesus,  he 
wrapped  it  in  fine  linen,  and  laid 
it  in  his  sepulchre.  Jesus  had  said 
that  after  three  days  He  would  rise  again; 
Pilate  feared  the  disciples  would  come  and 
take  away  the  body,  saying  He  had  risen 
from  the  dead.  To  prevent  this  he  sent 
soldiers  to  guard  the  sepulchre.  They  took 
every  precaution  to  make  the  sepulchre  safe. 
This  was  a  sad  ending  to  the  life  of  Jesus, 
which  was  employed  in  doing  good  to  others. 


THE  BURIAL  Of  CHRIST.— John  xix.  41,  42- 


BIBLE  STORIES  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


THE  RESURRECTION.— Matt,  xxviii.  2-4. 

RESURRECTION  OF  CHRIST. — The  soldiers  of 
Pilate  who  were  sent  to  watch  the  tomb  in 
which  Jesus  was  laid  met  with  a  sudden  fright. 
The  narrative  states  that  on  the  night  of  the 
third  day  after  the  crucifixion  an  angel  came 
down  from  heaven  and  rolled  the  stone  away 
from  the  door  of  the  sepulchre.  His  counte 
nance  was  like  lightning,  and  his  raiment  was 
white  as  snow.  The  keepers  who 
were  guarding  the  tomb  shook  with 
fear,  and  became  as  dead  men.  It 
was  but  natural  that  they  should  flee 
from  the  place.  In  the  early  morn 
ing  some  of  the  women  who  had 
been  the  firm  friends  of  Jesus,  and 
were  mourning  His  death,  came  with 
spices  to  the  sepulchre.  To  their 
surprise  they  found  the  stone  rolled 
away,  and  as  they  entered  they  saw 
an  angel  clothed  in  white.  The 
angel  quieted  them  by  bidding  them 
not  to  fear,  telling  them  he  knew 
they  were  seeking  Jesus.  Then  he 
assured  them  that  He  was  risen, 
and  asked  them  to  come  and  see 
the  place  where  the  Lord  lay.  He 
then  directed  them  to  go  and  tell  the 
glad  news  to  the  disciples. 


THE  WOMEN  AT  THE  TOMB.— A 
full  account  is  given  of  the  visit  to 
the  sepulchre  on  the  morning  of  the 
third  day  after  Jesus  was  crucified. 
Mary  Magdalene,  Salome,  and  Mary 
the  mother  of  James,  all  came  to 
gether.  It  was  a  practice  among 
the  Jews  to  prepare  the  bodies  of 
the  dead  for  burial  by  anointing 
them.  These  women  hastened  to 
the  tomb  at  the  early  dawn  of  the 
third  day,  bringing  with  them  sweet 
spices.  They  knew  a  great  stone 
had  been  placed  at  the  door,  and  as 
they  came  near  and  looked,  they 
were  amazed  to  find  that  the  stone 
was  removed.  They  ventured  in, 
and  there  on  the  right  side  saw  a 
young  man  of  startling  appearance, 
clothed  in  a  long  white  garment. 
They  were  frightened,  but  were  told  by  the 
angel  not  to  be  afraid.  Having  assured  them 
that  the  Lord  had  risen,  and  was  not  there,  he 
sent  them  away  to  tell  the  disciples,  Peter  es 
pecially,  that  Jesus  would  go  before  them  into 
Galilee,  and  they  were  to  meet  Him  there. 
Quickly  the  women  departed,  for  they  trembled 
and  were  amazed. 


THE  WOMEN  AT  THE  TOMB  OF  CHRIST.— Mark  xvi.  5,6. 


30 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


CHRIST  APPEARS  TO  TWO  OF  HIS  DISCIPLES.— Luke  xxiv.  35. 


THE  WALK  TO  EMMAUS. — On  the  day  when 
the  resurrection  took  place,  it  is  related  that 
two  of  the  disciples  went  to  Emnraus,  a  village 
a  few  miles  from  Jerusalem.  While  they 
were  engaged  in  earnest  conversation  Jesus 
drew  near  and  walked  with  them ;  but  they 
did  not  know  Him.  He  asked  them  what 
they  were  conversing  about,  and  why  they 
appeared  so  sad.  Cleopas  inquired 
if  He  had  not  heard  of  the  things 
that  had  come  to  pass.  He  asked, 
"  What  things  ?  "  They  answered, 
"  Concerning  Jesus  of  Nazareth." 
Then  they  spoke  of  the  crucifixion, 
and  said  they  had  trusted  that  Jesus 
was  the  one  who  would  redeem 
Israel.  They  also  related  the  visit 
of  the  women  to  the  tomb,  and  the 
fact  that  they  had  found  it  empty. 
Jesus  told  them  these  things  seemed 
strange  because  they  did  not  under 
stand  what  had  been  foretold  by 
the  prophets.  When  they  arrived 
at  the  village  He  accepted  their  in 
vitation  to  tarry  with  them,  and  as 
they  were  breaking  bread  together 
He  vanished  from  their  sight.  Then 
they  knew  who  He  was. 


THE  ASCENSION. — A  full  account 
is  given  us  of  the  departure  of 
Christ  from  the  earth.  According 
to  His  promise  He  met  His  dis 
ciples,  and  told  them  to  go  and 
preach  the  Gospel  to  all  nations. 
He  assured  them  that  all  power 
was  given  Him  in  heaven  and  earth, 
and  He  would  be  with  His  people 
even  unto  the  end  of  the  world. 
Not  only  did  He  have  interviews 
with  the  apostles,  and  make  Him 
self  known  to  them,  but  we  are  told 
that  He  appeared  to  five  hundred 
brethren  at  once.  The  closing 
scene  was  quite  as  extraordinary 
as  any  of  the  miraculous  wonders 
that  preceded  it.  After  forty  days 
had  passed  Jesus  met  His  disciples 
again  at  Jerusalem.  He  told  them 


to  tarry  there  until  they  were  endowed  with 
power  from  on  high.  The  hour  had  now 
come  for  Him  to  be  separated  from  them ;  He 
was  to  be  with  them  no  longer  in  bodily  shape 
and  presence.  Then  He  led  them  out  to 
Bethany,  lifted  up  His  hands  and  blessed 
them,  and  while  doing  this  He  was  parted 
from  them  and  carried  up  into  heaven. 


THE  ASCENSION.— Luke  xxiv.  50,  51. 


BIBLE  STORIES   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


31 


PAUL  AND  BARNABAS  AT  LYSTRA.— Acts  xiv.  14,  15. 


PAUL  PARTING  WITH  THE  ELDERS. 
— A  Church  had  been  planted  at 
Ephesus,  and  Paul  was  anxious  to 
visit  it,  but  being  in  a  hurry  to  reach 
Jerusalem,  he  sent  to  Ephesus  for 
the  elders  of  the  Church  to  come 
down  to  the  sea-shore  where  the 
vessel  in  which  he  was  making  his 
journey  was  waiting.  The  greeting 
they  gave  Paul  was  very  hearty  and 
affectionate.  He  told  them  he  knew 
very  well  that  afflictions  and  perse 
cutions  awaited  him,  but  he  could 
not  remain  with  them,  for  duty 
called  him  away.  He  assured  them 
that  he  was  not  only  willing  to  go 
to  Jerusalem,  but  was  ready  to  even 
die  for  the  Lord  Jesus.  He  spoke 
of  his  fidelity  in  declaring  the  whole 
truth,  said  he  had  coveted  no  man's 


PAUL  AND  BARNABAS. — At  Lystra  there  was 
a  cripple,  a  man  who  had  never  been .  able  to 
walk.  Paul  and  Barnabas,  who  were  on  a 
missionary  tour,  came  to  Lystra,  and  as  Paul 
was  preaching  this  lame  man  heard  him.  The 
attention  of  the  apostle  was  drawn  to  the  poor 
sufferer,  who  evidently  had  faith  and  believed 
the  words  that  were  spoken.  Paul  therefore 
felt  convinced  that  there  was  a 
blessing  for  him  and,  calling  to  him 
with  a  loud  voice,  told  him  to  stand 
up.  The  impotent  man  obeyed, 
and  leaped  to  his  feet,  although  he 
had  never  done  such  a  thing  before 
in  his  life.  It  is  not  strange  that 
the  people  who  saw  what  had 
been  done  were  greatly  amazed ;  it 
seemed  to  them  that  more  than 
human  power  had  been  employed 
in  curing  the  lame  man,  and  they 
looked  upon  Paul  and  Barnabas  as 
gods.  The  priests  went  to  the  idols' 
temple  and  brought  oxen  to  sacrifice 
to  them,  but  the  apostles  rent  their 
clothes,  and  ran  among  the  people, 
forbidding  any  sacrifice,  as  they 
we:<"e  only  men.  They  had  difficulty 
i  preventing  their  worship. 


silver  or  gold,  and  with  his  own  hands  had 
worked  for  his  support.  Then  he  kneeled 
down  and  prayed  with  them  all.  The  parting 
was  with  sadness  and  tears.  The  elders  wept 
as  they  bade  him  good-bye,  and  were  espe 
cially  sorrowful  at  the  thought  of  seeing  him 
no  more.  They  went  with  him  to  the  ship, 
and  he  pursued  his  journey. 


PAUL  TAKING  LEAVE  OF  THE  ELDERS.— Acts  xx.  37,  38. 


32 


BIBLE  STORIES  FOR   THE  YOUNG. 


OPENING  OF  THE  SEVENTH  SEAL.— Rev.  viii.  1-6. 


THE  SEVENTH  SEAL. — The  book  of  Reve 
lation  is  mostly  taker  up  with  the  visions  cf 
the  apostle  John,  he  saw  many  wonderful 
things,  the  meaning  of  which  is  not  in  all 


instances   very 
seventh    seal     in 


plain.      The 
heaven 


opening   of 
was    followed 


the 
by 


silence  for  the  space  of  half  an  hour.  Seven 
angels  were  seen,  and  to  them  were  given 
seven  trumpets ;  these  are  repre 
sented  in  the  foreground  of  the 
engraving.  Another  angel  came 
with  a  golden  censer,  and  stood  at 
the  altar.  We  have  in  the  picture 
a  cloud  of  incense  ascending  from 
the  censer  in  the  angel's  hand. 
Then  he  filled  the  censer  with  the 
fire  of  the  altar,  and  cast  it  into  the 
earth.  This  was  followed  by  voices, 
and  thunderings,  and  lightnings, 
and  an  earthquake.  The  trumpets 
of  the  seven  angels  then  sounded, 
one  after  another,  and  there  were 
terrible  signs  in  the  earth.  When 
the  seventh  angel  sounded  it  was 
announced  that  the  kingdoms  of 
this  world  had  become  the  king 
doms  of  our  Lord  and  of  his 
Christ. 


THE  NEW  JERUSALEM. — Theapos 
tie  John  also  tells  us  that  in  one 
part  of  his  vision  he  saw  a  new 
heaven  and  a  new  earth.  He  draws 
a  beautiful  picture  of  the  glory  of 
the  heavenly  world.  The  city  of  the 
New  Jerusalem,  in  other  words  the 
redeemed  Church,  wa.i  seen  coming 
down  from  heaven,  adorned  as  a 
bride  for  her  husband.  A  creat 

o 

voice  said  that  the  tabernacle  of 
God  was  now  with  men,  and  He 
would  dwell  with  them,  and  would 
wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes. 
A  glowing  description  is  given  of 
the  peace  and  joy  of  the  new  Para 
dise.  A  river  of  water  of  life  flows 
from  the  throne,  on  the  banks  of 
which  the  tree  of  life  is  growing. 
The  servants  of  God  serve  Him 
day  and  night  in  His  temple.  They  behold 
the  face  of  the  King  in  His  beauty,  and  are 
sealed  with  His  name.  The  inscription  at  the 
top  of  the  accompanying  engraving  announces 
that  they  are  blessed  who  are  called  to  the 
marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb,  and  the  one 
near  the  bottom  says,  "Alleluia,  for  the  Lord 
God  omnipotent  reigneth  !  " 


THE  NEW  JERUSALEM.— Rev.  xxi.  i.a. 


CHRIST  BLESSING  LITTLE  CHILDREN. 


TWELFTH    CENSUS 

OF  THE 

UNITED    STATES. 

TAKEN    IN   1900. 

POPULATION  OF  CITIES  HAVING   25,000   INHABITANTS  OR  MORE 
IN  1900,  ARRANGED  ACCORDING  TO    POPULATION. 


Cities. 

Population. 

Increase. 
1890 
to 
1900. 

Cities. 

Population. 

Increase. 
1890 
to 
1900 

1900 

1890 

Number. 

1900 

1890 

Number. 

Greater  New  York 

3,437,202 

2,492,591 

944,611 

Omaha,  Nebr.  .  .    . 

102,555 

140,452 

*37,897 

Chicago,  111.   .   .   . 

1,698,575 

1,099,850 

598,725 

Los  Angeles,  Cal.  . 

102,479 

50,395 

52,084 

Philadelphia  Pa.    . 

1,293,697 

1,046,964 

246,733 

Memphis,  Tenn.    . 

102,320 

64,495 

37,825 

St.  Louis,  Mo.    .    . 

575,238 

451,770 

123,468 

Scranton,  Pa.  .    .    . 

102,026 

75,215 

26,811 

Boston,  Mass.  .  .    . 

560,892 

448,477 

1  12,415 

Lowell,  Mass.  .  .    . 

94,969 

77,696 

17,273 

Baltimore,  Md. 

508,957 

434,439 

74,518 

Albany,  N.  Y.  .  .    . 

94,151 

94,923 

*772 

Cleveland,  Ohio    . 

381,768 

261,353 

120,415 

Cambridge,  Mass.  . 

91,886 

70,028 

21,858 

Buffalo,  N.  Y.  .  .    . 

352,387 

255,664 

96,723 

Portland,  Oreg.  .   . 

90,426 

46,385 

44,041 

San  Francisco,  Cal. 

342,782 

298,997 

43,785 

Atlanta,  Ga.    .    .    . 

89,872 

65,533 

24,339 

Cincinnati,  Ohio    . 

325,902 

296,908 

28,994 

Grand  Rapids,  M'ch 

87,565 

60,278 

27,287 

Pittsburg,  Pa.  .  .    . 

321,616 

238,617 

82,999 

Dayton,  Ohio.  .  .    . 

85,333 

61,220 

24,113 

New  Orleans,  La.  . 

287,104 

242,039 

45,065 

Richmond,  Va.  .    . 

85,050 

81,388 

3,662 

Detroit,  Mich.     .    . 

285,704 

205,876 

79,828 

Nashville,  Tenn.    . 

80,865 

76,168 

4,697 

Milwaukee,  Wis.   . 

285,315 

204,468 

80,847 

Seattle,  Wash.    .   . 

80,671 

42,837 

37,834 

Washington,  D.  C. 

278,718 

230,392 

48,326 

Hartford,  Conn.  .  . 

79,850 

53,230 

26,620 

Newark,  N.  J.  .  .   . 

246,070 

181,830 

64,240 

Reading,  Pa.  .   .   . 

78,961 

58,661 

20,300 

Jersey  City,  N.  J.   . 

206,433 

163,003 

43,430 

Wilmington,  Del.  . 

76,508 

61,431 

15,077 

Louisville,  Ky.  .    . 

204,731 

161,129 

43,602 

Camden,  N.  J.  .  .    . 

75,935 

58,313 

17,622 

Minneapolis,  Minn. 

202,718 

164,738 

37,980 

Trenton,  N.  J.  .  .   . 

73,307 

57,458 

15,849 

Providence,  R.  I.  . 

175,597 

132,146 

43,451 

Bridgeport,  Conn.  . 

70,996 

48,866 

22,130 

Indianapolis,  Ind.  . 

169,164 

105,436 

63,728 

Lynn,  Mass  

68,513 

55,727 

22,786 

Kansas  City,  Mo.  . 

163,752 

132,716 

31,036 

Oakland,  Cal.  .   .   . 

66,960 

48,682 

18,278 

St.  Paul,  Minn.   .    . 

163,065 

133,156 

29,909 

Lawrence,  Mass.    . 

52,559 

44,654 

17,905 

Rochester,  N.  Y.  . 

162,608 

133,896 

28,712 

New  Bedford,  Mass. 

62,442 

40,733 

21,709 

Denver,  Colo.  .  .    . 

133,859 

106,713 

27,146 

Des  Moines,  Iowa. 

62,139 

50,093 

12,046 

Toledo,  Ohio.  .  .    . 

131,822 

81,434 

50,388 

Springfield,  Mass.  . 

62,059 

44,179 

17,880 

Allegheny,  Pa.    .    . 

129,896 

105,287 

24,609 

Somerville,  Mass.  . 

61,643 

40,152 

21,491 

Columbus,  Ohio    . 

125,560 

88,150 

37,410 

Troy,  N.  Y  

60,651 

60,956 

*305 

Worcester,  Mass.  . 

118,421 

84,655 

33,766 

Hoboken,  N.  J.  .    . 

59,364 

43,648 

15,716 

Syracuse,  N.  Y.  .  . 

108,374 

88,143 

20,231 

Evansville,  Ind.  .   . 

59,007 

50,756 

8,251 

New  Haven,  Conn. 

108,027 

81,298 

26,729 

Manchester,  N.  H. 

56,987 

44,126 

12,861 

Paterson,  N.  J..  .   . 

105,171 

78,347 

26,824 

Utica,  N.  Y.  .  .   .   . 

56,383 

44,007 

12,376 

Fall  River,  Mass.  . 

104,863 

74,398 

30,465 

Peoria,  111    . 

56,100 

41,024 

15,076 

St.  Joseph,  Mo.  .   . 

102,979 

62,324 

50,655 

Charleston,  S.  C.    . 

55,807 

54,955 

852 

*  Decrease. 


UNITED  STATES  CENSUS   OF   NINETEEN   HUNDRED. 


Increase. 

Increase. 

Population. 

1890 
to 

Population. 

1890 
to 

Cities. 

1900 

Cities. 

1900 

1900 

1890 

Number. 

1900 

1890 

Uumber. 

Savannah,  Ga.    .    . 

54,244 

43,189 

11,055 

McKeesport,  Pa.    . 

34,227 

20,741 

13,486 

S't  Lake  City,  Utah 

53,531 

44,843 

8,688 

Springfield,  111.  .    . 

34,159 

24,963 

9,196 

San  Antonio,  Tex. 

53,321 

37,673 

15,648 

Chelsea,  Mass.  .    . 

34,072 

27,909 

6,163 

Duluth,  Minn.  .  .    . 

52,969 

33,115 

19,854 

Chester,  Pa.    .   .    • 

33,988 

20,226 

13,762 

Erie,  Pa  

52,733 

40,634 

12,099 

York,  Pa  

33,708 

20,793 

12,915 

Elizabeth,  N.  J.  .    . 

52,130 

37,764 

14,366 

Maiden,  Mass.   .   . 

33,664 

23,031 

10,633 

Wilkesbarre,  Pa.   . 

51,721 

37,718 

14,003 

Topeka,  Kans.  .    . 

33,608 

31,007 

2,601 

Kansas  City,  Kans. 

51,418 

38,316 

13,102 

Newton,  Mass.   .   . 

33,587 

24,379 

9,208 

Harrisburg,  Pa.  .   . 

50,167 

39,385 

10,782 

Sioux  City,  Iowa. 

33,111 

37,806 

*4,695 

Portland,  Me.  .  .    . 

50,145 

36,425 

13,720 

Bayonne,  N.  J.    .    . 

32,722 

19,033 

13,689 

Yonkers,  N.  Y.  .   . 

47,931 

32,033 

15,898 

Knoxville,  Tenn.  . 

32,637 

22,535 

10,102 

Norfolk,  Va  

46,624 

34,871 

11,753 

Chattanooga,  Tenn. 

32,490 

29,100 

3,390 

Waterbury,  Conn.  . 

45,859 

28,646 

17,213 

Schenectady,  N.  Y. 

31,682 

19,902 

11,780 

Holyoke,  Mass.  .   . 

45,712 

35,637 

10,075 

Fitchburg,  Mass.   . 

31,531          22,037 

9,494 

Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  . 

45,115 

35,393 

9,722 

Superior,  Wis.   .   . 

31,091 

11,983 

19,108 

Youngstown,  Ohio 

44,885 

33,220 

11,665 

Rockford,  111.  .  .   . 

31,051 

23,584 

7,467 

Houston,  Tex.  .   . 

44,633 

27,557 

17,076 

Taunton,  Mass.  .    . 

31,036 

25,448 

5,588 

Covington,  Ky.  .    . 

42,938 

37,371 

5,567 

Canton,  Ohio  .    .    . 

30,667 

26,189 

4,478 

Akron,  Ohio  .   .    . 

42,728 

27,601 

15,127 

Butte,  Mont.   .    .    . 

30,470 

10,723 

19,747 

Dallas,  Tex  

42,638 

38,067 

4,571 

Montgomery,  Ala. 

30,346 

21,883 

8,463 

Saginaw,  Mich.  .    . 

42,345 

46,322 

*3,977 

Auburn,  N.  Y.   .    . 

30,345 

25,858 

4,487 

Lancaster,  Pa.    .   . 

41,459 

32,011 

9,448 

East  St.  Louis,  111. 

29,655 

15,169 

14,486 

Lincoln,  Nebr.  .  .    . 

40,169 

55,154 

*14,985 

Joliet,  111  

29,353 

23,264 

6,089 

Brockton.  Mass.    . 

40,063 

27,294 

12,769 

Sacramento,  Cal.  . 

29,282 

26,386 

2,896 

Binghampton,  N.Y. 

39,647 

35,005 

4,642 

Racine,  Wis.   - 

29,102 

21,014 

8,088 

Augusta,  Ga.  .   .   . 

39,441 

33,300 

6,141 

La  Crosse,  Wis.  .  . 

28,895 

25,090 

3,805 

Pawtucket,  R.  I.  .  . 

39,231 

27,633 

11,598 

Williamsport,  Pa.  . 

28,757 

27,132 

1,625 

Altoona,  Pa.    .   .    . 

38,973 

30,337 

8,636 

Jacksonville,  Fla. 

28,429 

17,201 

11,228 

Wheeling,  W.  Va.  . 

38,878 

34,522 

1,356 

Newcastle,  Pa.  .   . 

28,339 

11,600 

16,739 

Mobile,  Ala.    .   .   . 

38,469 

31,076 

7,393 

Newport,  Ky.  .  .    . 

28,301 

24,918 

3,383 

Birmingham,  Ala.  . 

38,415 

26,178 

12,237 

Oshkosh,  Wis. 

28,284 

22,836 

5,448 

Little  Rock,  Ark.  , 

38,307 

25,874 

12,433 

Woonsocket,  R.  I. 

28,204 

20830 

7,374 

Springfield,  Ohio.  . 

38,253 

31,895 

6,358 

Pueblo,  Colo.  ... 

28,157 

24,558 

3,599 

Galveston,  Tex.  .  . 

37,789 

29,084 

8,705 

Atlantic  City,  N.  J. 

27,838 

13,055 

14,783 

Tacoma,  Wash.  .   . 

37,714 

36,006 

1,708 

Passaic,  N.  J.  .    .    • 

27,777 

13,028 

14,749 

Haverhill,  Mass.    . 

37,175 

27,412 

9,763 

Bay  City,  Mich.  .    . 

27,628 

27,839 

*211 

Spokane,  Wash.    . 

36,848 

19,922 

16,926 

Fort  Worth,  Tex.  . 

26,688 

23,076 

3,612 

Terre  Haute,  Ind. 

36,673 

30,217 

6,456 

Lexington,  Ky.  .    . 

26,369 

21,567 

4,802 

Dubuque,  Iowa  .   . 

36,297 

30,311 

5,986 

Gloucester,  Mass.  . 

26,121 

24,651 

1,470 

Quincy,  111  

36,252 

31,494 

4,758 

South  Omaha,  Neb 

26,001 

8,062 

17,939 

South  Bend,  Ind.  . 

35,999 

21,819 

14,180 

New  Britain,  Conn 

25,998 

16,519 

9,479 

Salem,  Mass.  .   .   . 

35,956 

30,801 

5,155 

Council  Bluffs,  Iwa 

25,802 

21,474 

4,328 

Johnstown,  Pa.  .   . 

35,936 

21,805 

14,131 

Cedar  Rapids,  Iwa 

25,656 

18,020 

7,636 

Elmira,N.Y.  .   .   . 

35,672 

30,893 

4,799 

Easton,  Pa  

25,238 

14,481 

10,757 

Allentown,  Pa.  .    . 

35,416 

25,228 

10,188 

Jackson,  Mich.  .    . 

25,180 

20,798 

4,382 

Davenport,  Iowa  . 

35,254 

26,872 

8,382 

*  Decrease. 


POPULATION   OF  THE   UNITED   STATES 

DURING  THE  LAST  SEVENTY  YEARS. 


STATES  AND 
TERRITORIES. 

1830 

1840 

1850 

1860 

1870 

1880 

1890 

1900 

309,527 

590,756 

771,623 

064,  2OI 

996,992 
9,658 
484,471 
560,247 
39,864 

537,454 
14,181 
125,015 

131,700 
187,748 
1,184,109 

14,999 
2,539,891 
1,680,637 
1,194,020 

364,399 
1,321,011 
726,915 
626,915 
780,894 

i,457,35i 
1,184,059 
439-706 
827,922 
1,721,295 

20,595 
122,993 

42,49i 
318,300 
906,096 
91,874 
4,382,759 
1,071,361 

1,262,505 
40,440 
802,525 
864,694 

194,327 
622,700 

135,177 
146,608 

177,6:-  ; 

269,493 
1,542,180 
32,610 

3,077,871 
1,978,301 
1,624,615 
996,096 
1,648,690 
939,946 
648,936 

934,943 
1,783,085 
1,636,937 
78o,773 
i,  131,597 
2,168,380 

39,159 
452,402 
62,266 

346,991 
1,131,116 

119,565 
5,082,871 
1,399,750 

1,513,01? 
59,620 
1,128,179 
1,208,130 
419,198 
746,258 

1,828,697 
122,931 

1,311,564 
1,485,053 
539,700 
908,355 

Arkansas    

30,388 

97,574 

209,897 
92,597 

435,450 

379-994 
34,277 
460,147 
4,837 
112,216 

75,o8o 
140,424 
1,057,286 

California  

Connecticut... 

297,675 

309,978 

370,792 

Delaware  

76,748 

39,834 
34,730 
516,823 

78,085 

43,712 

54,477 
691,392 

9I>532 

51,687 
87,445 
906,185 

168,493 

230,392 
391,422 
1,837,353 
84,385 
3,826,351 
2,192,404 
1,911,896 
1,427,096 
1,858,635 
1,118,587 
661,086 
1,042,390 
2,238,943 
2,093,889 
1,301,826 
1,289,600 
2,679,184 

132,159 
1,058,910 

45,76i 
376,530 
1,444,933 
153,593 
5,997,853 
1,617,947 
182,719 
3,672,316 
61,834 
313,767 
5,258,014 
345,506 

i,i5i,i49 
328,808 
1,767,518 

2,235,523 
207,905 
332,422 
1,655,980 

349,390 
762,704 
1,686,880 
60,705 
32,052 
89,990 
180,182 

184,735 

278,718 
528,542 
2,216,331 
161,772 
4,821,550 
2,516,462 
2,231,853 
1,470,495 
2,147,174 
1,381,625 
694,466 
1,190,050 
2,805,346 
2,420,982 

1,751,394 
i,55i,270 
3,106,665 

243,329 
1,068,539 

42,335 
411,588 
1,883,669 
I95,3io 
7,268,012 
1,893,810 
3i9,H6 
4,157,545 
398,245 
413,536 
6,302,115 
428,556 
1,340,316 
401,570 
2,020,616 
3,048,710 
276,749 
343,641 
1,854,184 
518,103 
958,8oo 
2,069,042 
92,53i 
63,441 
154,001 
39i,9*> 

District  of 
Columbia 
Florida  

Georgia  

Illinois    

157,445 
343,031 

476,183 
685,866 
43,H2 

851,470 
988,416 
192,214 

i,7n,95i 
1,350,428 

674,913 
107,  206 
1,155,684 
708,002 
628,279 
687,049 
1,231,066 

749,  "3 
172,023 

791,305 
1,182,012 

Indiana    

Iowa  

Kentucky  

687,917 
215,739 
399,455 
447,040 

6lO,AO? 

3*&9 

779,828 
352,4" 
5OI>793 
470,019 

737,699 
212,267 

982,405 
517,762 
583,169 
583,034 
994,514 
397,654 
7,077 
606,526 
682,044 

Louisiana  

Maine  

Maryland  

Massachusetts... 
Michigan  

Minnesota  

Mississipp*'  

136,621 
140,455 

375,651 
383,702 

Missouri  

Montana  

Nebraska  

28,841 

6,857 
326,073 
672,035 
93,5i6 

3,880,735 
992,622 

Nevada  

New  Hampshire 
New  Jersey  

269,328 
320,823 

284,574 
373,306 

317,976 
489,555 
6r,547 
3,097,394 
869,039 

New  Mexico  

New  York  .    ... 

1,918,608 
707,987 

2,428,921 
753,419 

North  Carolina.. 
North  Dakota.... 

Ohio  

937,903 

1,519,467 

1,980,329 

2,339>5H 

2,665,260 

3,198,062 

Oklahoma  

Oregon  .  .  . 

13,294 
2,311,786 

147,545 
668,507 

52,465 
2,906,215 
174,620 
703,708 

90,923 
3,52i,95i 
217,353 
705,606 

174,768 
4,282,819 
276,53! 
995,577 

Pennsylvania.... 
Rhode  Island.... 
South  Carolina.. 
South  Dakota.... 

1,348,233 

97,199 
581,185 

1,724,033 
108,830 
594,398 

Tennessee  

681,904 

829,210 

1,002,717 
212,592 
11,380 
314,120 
1,421,661 

1,109,801 
604,215 
40,273 
315,098 
1,596,318 
n,594 

1,258,520 

818,579 
86,786 

330,551 
1,225,163 

23,955 
442,014 
1,054,670 
9,118 

1,542,359 
i,59I,749 
U3,963 
332,286 
1,512,565 
75,n6 
618,457 

1,315,497 
20,789 

Texas  

Utah  

Vermont  

280,652 
1,211,405 

291,948 
1,239,797 

Virginia  

Washington  

West  Virginia.... 

Wisconsin  

30,945 

305,391 

775,88i 

Wyoming  

Alaska.  

Hawaii  

Indian  Territory 
Total... 

[2,866,020 

I7.06Q.4.S1 

21.111.876 

•U..dA*.22I 

^8.^8,-m 

<;o.  T^.78^ 

62.02/1.^7/1 

7fi.215.T20 

Index. 


Abbreviations  Used  in  Business 373 

Abscesses,  How  to  Treat 362 

Accent  in  Poetry 494 

Account,  Bills  Payable 388 

Accounts 37^ 

Account,  Capital 391 

Account,  Expense 389 

Accounts,  Factor's 395 

Account,  Inventory 392 

Accounts,   Labor 390 

Account,  Loss  and  Gam 393 

Account.  Merchandise 384 

Accounts  ot  Materials 390 

Accounts.  Personal 385 

Accounts.  Principal's  or   Bailor's 395 

Account,  Private 392 

Account,  Real  Estate 389 

Accounts,  Sales 395 

Accounts,  Shipment 393 

Accounts,  Speculative 3»8 

Acquaintances,  How  to  Form 35 

Acquaintances,  New,  not  to  be  thrust  on  others...     36 

Acqaintance  with  Marked  Men 18 

Acre  ol  Ground,  Hills  in 566 

Acrostic  Sale,  The 212 

Actress  and  Millionaire  138 

Adams,  John,  Letter  of. 86 

Adams.  President  John 147 

Adams,  Wife  of  John,  Letter  of 86 

Adapt  Yourself  to  your  Company 18 

Address,  Proper  Form  of 80 

Adjournment 453 

Advice,  Letters  of. 76 

Affection,  Lack  of 149 

Affectation  to  be  Avoided 23 

Affections  Rule  the  Life 113 

Africa,  Exports  of 560 

Agencies  and  Collections 434 

Age  of  any  person,  How  to  Tell 561 

Ages  of  Animals 565 

Ages  of  Horses,  Kow  to  Tell 565 

Ages,  Proper  for  Marriage 124 

Agreement  for  Sale  of  Personal  Property 411 

Agreement,  General  Form  of 408 

Agreement  with  Clerk 410 

Agreements,  Verbal  and  Written 407 

Agreement  to  Cultivate  Land 409 

Agreements 407 


MM 

Alcohol,  Percentage  of,  in  Liquors 563 

Alphabet,  Deaf  and  Dumb 474 

Alphabet,  Phoenician 461 

Amaryllis 515 

Ambiguity,  French  Anecdote  of. 76 

Amendments 451 

American  Goldfinch 530 

Amiability,  Necessity  of. 24 

Amusements  for  Children 189 

Anecdotes,  Ancient 72 

Animals,  Ages  Atlamed  by 565 

Animals  Locomotion  of 562 

Animal  Organism 145 

Animal  Vigor,  Marks  of 147 

Animals.  Weight  of. 566 

"  Angel  Abroad  and  Devil  at  Home." 167 

Angel,  The  Guardian 174 

Answers,  Short 71 

Antidotes  for  Poisons 562 

Apparel  for  the  Street 28 

Appearance,  Personal 32 

Apple  Cream 253 

Apple  Wine 259 

i    April.  Derivation  of 559 

Aquaria 540 

Arabia,  Exports  of 559 

Arbitration 411 

Arbitrators,  Agreement  to  refer  to 411 

Arctic  Explorations 552 

Arms,  How  to  Strengthen 309 

Arms.  Movements  for 305 

Arteries  and  Veins 307 

Artificial  Ninnies 129 

Artisans.  Payments  to 390 

Asparagus.  To  Cook 246 

Asparagus  with  Eggs 246 

Asphalt  for  Walks  and  Floors 264 

Assignees  and  Trustees 419 

Assignments 416 

Assignments,  when  Lawful 419 

Association,  Constitution  for  Literary 445 

Association,  Literary,  By-laws  of. 440 

Aster,  The 514 

Athlete,  A  Young 302 

Attendants  at  Dinner  Parties 58 

Attorney,  Power  of,  to  Confess  Judgment 418 

August,  Derivation  of. 559 

Avoid  Debt 542 

Azalea 504 


45 


70* 


706 


INDEX. 


Back,  How  to  Strengthen 307 

Bacon,  English,  To  Cure 243 

Bail,  Giving 438 

Bailee's  Accounts 395 

Baking,  Hint  on 257 

Balance,  To,  in  Bookkeeping 385 

Balances,  Trial 396 

Ball-room,  Decorations  of. 48 

Balls,  Etiquette  of. 47 

"alls,  Invitations  to 47 

Bank  Check,  Form  of. 400 

Bank  Deposits 399 

Bartholdi's  Statue 552 

Base-Ball 336-346 

Base-Ball,  Diagram  of  Grounds 337 

Base-Ball,  Rules  of 336 

Bath,  When  to  Take 347 

Beautiful  Flowers 510 

Beauty,  Art  of. 268 

Beauty,  Female,  Men  Worship 163 

Beaux,   Fault-finding 152 

Bed-Clothing 356 

Bed  for  the  Sick '. 353 

Bed-Sores,  How  to  Dress 352 

Beef,  Animal,  Proportions  of  good  Meat  in 566 

Beef  Pie  with  Potato  Crust 239 

Beef,  Roast 238 

Beef,  Spiced 239 

Beefsteak 239 

Beefsteak  and  Onions 239 

Beefsteak  and  Oysters 239 

Beefsteak,  Smothered 241 

Beetles,  To  Destroy 257 

Beets.  Baked 246 

Beets,  Boiled 246 

Behavior,  An  Engaging 19 

Belgium.  Exports  of. 560 

Bell,  Largest 545 

Bellamy,  Edward 131 

Benevolence  belongs  to  the  True  Gentleman 21 

Bestowing  Pleasure,  Duty  of. 17 

Bill  Book 378 

Bill  of  Sale,  Form  of. 416 

Bills  of  Sale 416 

Bill  of  Sale  with  Warranty 4'6 

Bills  Payable  Account 3$8 

Bills  Receivable  Account 386 

Birds,  Care  and  Management  of. 526 

Birds,  Diseases  of 537 

"Birds  of  a  Feather" 138 

Birthday,  Letter  on 90 

Blackberry  Wine,  To  Make 256 

Black  Merino,  To  Clean 262 

Black  Silk,  To  Clean 261 


Blair's  Rules  for  Style ,  484 

Blankets,  To  Clean 26o 

Bleeding,  To  Stop 361 

Blind  Postman,  Game  of 222 

Blood  to  be  kept  Circulating 188 

Bloomers,  Carnation 520 

Blotters  and  Ink 463 

Blue  Jay,  The 530 

Blue-stocking,  The 25 

Board  by  the  Week 571 

Boarding-schools  for  Children 194 

Board,  Table  Showing  Rates  of. 571 

Bobolink,  The 529 

Body,  the,  How  to  Strengthen 308 

Bookkeeping 373-400 

Bookkeeper's  Application  for  Position 402 

Bookkeeping,  Necessity  for 379 

Books,  Auxiliary 377 

Books  of  Account 376 

Boone,  Daniel 316 

Bonds 416 

Bond,  Form  of,  with  Condition 417 

Bond,  Form  of,  without  Condition 417 

Bonds  with  Penalties 417 

Bond  with  Power  of  Attorney 418 

Bouquet,  The  Game  of 221 

Boston  Brown  Bread 248 

Boston  Fry 235 

Bottles,  to  Clean 257 

Boxes,  Capacity  of. 572 

Box  Measures 564 

Brass  Works,  To  Clean , 264 

Brazil,  Exports  of 560 

Bread,  Boston 448 

Bread,  Boston  Corn 249 

Bread,  Corn  and  Rye 249 

Bread,  Heavy,  Love  Can't  Live  on 157 

Bread,  How  to  Preserve 255 

Bread,  Rye 249 

Breeding,  Signs  of  Bad 30 

Bricks,  Cubic  Feet  of,  in  Masonry 572 

Bricks,  How  many  to  Use..  572 

Bridegroom 65 

Brides 63 

Brides,  Dress  of. 65 

Bridesmaids 64 

Bridge,  Old  London 54& 

Bridges,  Most  Notable ••  546 

Bridge  of  Sighs 546 

Brown  Bread,  Boston 248 

Brown  Bread,  Virginia 249 

Brown  Thrush,  The ••  53° 

Bruises,  How  to  treat ••••  3O1 

Buffon,  Saying  of 32 

Bullfinch,  The 53» 


INDEX. 


707 


Buildings,  Highest 548 

Burns,  How  to  Relieve 362 

Bushel,  Legal  Weight  of. 571 

Business  Laws  for  Daily  Use 371 

Business  Lesson,  A 542 


Cabbage,  Ladies' 245 

Cabbage,  Steamed 244 

Cabinet  Facts 506 

Cali's-Head  Soup 231 

California,  Gold  in 572 

Calls... 


41 

Calls,  Evening 43 

Cambric  Dresses,  To  Clean 261 

Camellia  Japonica 523 

Canada,  Exports  of. 560 

Canaries,  Color  of. 527 

Canaries,  Food  of. 527 

Canaries,  Mating  of. 526 

Canary,  The - 526 

Cancer,  Bird 539 

Canvas-back  Duck 238 

Cape  Colony,  Exports  of. 560 

Capital  Account 391 

Capital  Letters,  How  to  Use •. 469 

Capital,  Net,  How  to  Find 391 

Capital  Punishment,  Modes  of..... 562 

Capitals,  Whole- Arm 464 

Cards,  Visiting 46 

Cards,  Wedding 67 

Cards  with  Letters  of  Introduction.... 37 

Carlisle  Tables  of  Mortality 561 

Carnations  and  Picotecs 519 

Carpets,  Substitute  for 290 

Cash  Account 383 

Cash  Book,  The 378 

Cash  Book,  The  Petty 383 

Carrots,  Stewed 248 

Carving  Meats 60 

Catastrophies,  Great 550 

Cat  Bird,  The 530 

Cats 540 

Cattle,  Live,  to  Get  Weight  of 564 

Cattle,  To  Weigh,  by  Measurement 564 

Cauliflower,  Fried 244 

Celebrations,  How  to  Conduct 458 

Celery  Soup 230 

Ceremony,  Marriage 66 

Central  America,  Exports  of. 560 

Certificate,  Landlord's 431-432 

Chaffinch,  The 532 

Champagne,  English v 258 

Chance  of  Marrying... . .1 562 

Chandler,  Amelia  Rives 124 


Charity,  Domestic 177 

Charles  Dickens,  Letter  of. 8l 

Charlie's  Story  of  the  Family  Pledge 631 

Charms,  Feminine,  Lost 24 

Chattel  Mortgages 425 

Chavasse,  Dr.,  Treatise  by 179 

Cherry  Brandy,  to  Make 258 

Cherries,  to  Preserve 3  254 

Cherries,  to  Preserve  in  Bunches 255 

Cherry  Wine ...  259 

Chesterfield,  Saying  of. 17 

Chicago's  Great  Fi^es 551 

Chicken  Cream  Soup 227 

Chicken  on  Toast 237 

Chickens 535 

Chief  Gall _ 171 

Chilblains,  Remedy  Jtov- 254 

Child,  the  Happy 181 

Child,  the  Irritable 184 

Children,  Healthy 161 

Children ,  How  to  Make  Theoi  Ladies  or  Gentlemen    3 1 

Children,  Old 186 

Children  in  Perfect  Health 285 

Children  Should  Romp 183 

Chili,  Exports  of. 560 

China,  Exports  of. 560 

China,  Great  Wall  of. 552 

China  Painting -  207 

China,  to  Mend 26^1 

Chintz,  to  Clean 261 

Chintzes,  Washing 263 

Chisel  and  Plane 208 

Choice  of  Husband  or  Wife,  Importance  of. 127 

Choice  Selections  of  Poetry 606 

Choosing,  the  Time  for 12? 

Christmas  Time 646 

Chrysanthemum,  The 514 

Churches,  Largest 548 

Churchill,  Lady  Randolph 160 

Circles,  how  to  Measure 567 

City,  Greatest 546 

Cisterns,  Contents  of. 566 

Civility  with  Ease 23 

Clam  Chowder 236 

Clam  Fritters « 236 

Clam  Soup 232 

Clam  Soup  (French  Style) 231 

Cleanliness 180 

Cleanliness,  Necessity  of. 352 

Clearing  House 399 

Clergyman,  Departing,  Resolutions  for ."  455 

Clergyman  in  the  Sick  Room 555 

Clerk,  Agreement  with.. 410 

Clerk,  The 450 

Clerkship,  Letter  Asking 401 


708 


INDEX. 


Closing  the  ledger 398 

Cloth,  how  to  Make  Waterproof. 255 

Clothing,  to  Disinfect 289 

Clothes,  a  Part  of  the  Individual 32 

Clothes,  Gentlemen's,  to  Clean 262 

Clothes,  to  Wash 263 

Clubs,  Men's .,  119 

Cockatoos.  The... ,. 534 

Codfish  a  la  Mode 234 

Codfish,  Salt,  Boiled 234 

Codfish,  Salt,  Stewed 234 

Cod,  Fresh,  Boiled 234 

Codicils  to  Wills 440 

Coffee  at  Dinner 61 

Coining  Presses 569 

Coins,  Foreign,  Value  of. 572 

Coins,  Rare,  Value  of 571 

Collections,  Geological 2c8 

Collection  of  Debts 436 

Colons,  Use  of 473 

Colored  Drawings,  to  Make  Resemble  Oil-Paint 
ings 264 

Colored  Fabrics,  to  Clean 260 

Colors,  Harmony  of. 27 

Colors,  How  to  Mix 567 

Combe,  George,  Opinions  of... 142 

Combs,  to  Clean , 266 

Commission  Account 396 

Commission  Merchant 394 

Commodore  Nutt , 142 

Committees 450 

Communicating  Ideas  Peculiar  to  Man 18 

Complexion,  the,  to  Improve 267 

Compliments,  Game  of. 219 

Concise  Business  .Laws 371 

Conduct,  Vulgar  in  Ball-room 54 

Conflagration,  Great 550 

Congratulations 42 

Congratulation,  Letters  of. 96,  97 

Conjugal  Happiness,  Basiaof 137 

Consequences,  Game  of . 217 

Consignments 395 

Constitutions,  Forms  for 445 

Consumptives 144 

Contents  of  Cisterns 566 

Contracts 407 

Contracts  between  Merchants 408 

Contract  for  Building  a  House 410 

Contract  for  Mechanics'  Work 409 

Conundrums 600 

Conundrums,  Answers  to 603 

Conversation,  Entertaining 53 

Conversation,  Extravagances  of. 24 

Conversation,  Faults  of. 71 

Conversation,  how  to  Make  it  Easy 19 


Conversation,  Philosophy  of. .     19 

Conversation,  the  Art  of 6) 

Copper,  t )  Clean 257 

Coquette,  The 24 

Corn  Cake,  New  England 250 

Corn  Pudding 246 

Corn  Soup 228 

Correspondence,  Etiquette  of. 73 

Costume,  Appropriate 34 

Costume  for  Traveling 29 

Costume  for  Walking 28 

Courtesy,  Fashionable , 21 

Courtin',  The 640 

Courting,  Hints  on 112 

Courtship,  Treatise  on 111-282 

Cousins,  Marriage  among 130 

Coyness  of  True  Love 115 

Crab  Croquettes 235 

Crabs,  Baked 235 

Crabs,  Deviled 235 

Cracknels 251 

Crape,  to  Renovate 262 

Creditors,  Assignments  to 419 

Crickets,  to  Destroy 257 

Crochet 197 

Crooked  Stick,  A 150 

Croquettes,  Meat  and  Potato 240 

Cross-grained  Natures 129 

Cross  Purposes,  Game  of. , .., 222 

Crumpets,  English , 253 

Cubic    Measure 572 

Currant  Wine 258 

Curtain  Lectures 170 

Curtains,  Lace,  tc  Clean 261 


Dahlias 521 

Dahlias,  Single 523 

Dahlias,  Varieties  of. 521 

Damages,  Tenant's 428 

Damson  Wine 259 

Dancing,  French  Terms  Used  in 53 

Dancing,  Hints  on 52 

Dancing,  Order  of 51 

Dandyism 128 

Daughters  of  Toil..... 606 

Davenport,  Fanny,  Temperament  of. 159 

Day  Book , 377 

Days  of  the  Week,  Derivation  of... 559 

Deakin  Brown's  Way 622 

Death-Bed,  A 613 

Death,  a  Living 161 

Death  Song  of  the  Oueida  Chief. 619 

Debate,  Order  in 453 

Debt,  Avoid 542 


INDEX. 


709 


PAGE 

Debtor,  Arrest  of. 437 

Debts,  Power  to  Collect 435 

Debts,  Settlement  of. 436 

Decalcomanie 203 

Decanters,  To  Clean 254 

December,  Derivation  of. 559 

Deductions,  Practical,  in  Bookkeeping 396 

Deed  of  Gift 422 

Deed  must  be  Recorded 421 

Deed,  Quit-Claim 422 

Deed  Takes  Effect  from  Delivery 421 

Deed,  Warranty 421 

Deeds  and  Mortgages 420 

Deeds,  when  Valid 420 

Deeds,  Witnesses  to 420 

Deformities,  Physical 145 

Demand  Note,  Form  of 400 

Denmark.  Exports  of 560 

Depew.  Chauncey  M 121 

Deposits    Bank 399 

Depth'  of  the  Ocean ,,... 549 

Der  Deutscher  s  Maxim. 627 

Dessert  for  Dinners. 58 

Designs  for  Houses 269-282 

Diaothus 520 

Differences  of  Age  in  Marrying 126 

Differences,  how  Adjusted 118 

Digestion  of  Various  substances 563 

Dignity  cannot  be  Assumed 23 

Dining-room 57 

Dinner,  Announcing  the 59 

Dinner,  Courses  at 60 

Dinner,  how  to  Give 55 

Dinner  Parties 55 

Dinners,  Gentlemen's  Dress  for 57 

Dinners,  Hints  Concerning 62 

Dinners,  invitations  to 56 

Dinners,  Ladies'  Dress  for 56 

Dinners,  Public 458 

Discount  and  Interest 389 

Discovery  of  Gold  in  California 572 

Disease,  Germs  of. 286 

Disease,  Hereditary 133 

Diseased  Persons,  should  they  Marry 142 

Diseases,  Contagious 354 

Dissimilarities,  Physical 140 

Dissimilarities  which  Improve  Love 139 

Dog  and  the  Tramp,  The 621 

Dogs,  Care  of. 540 

Dollar  Saved  Each  Day 543 

Dollar,  A,  What  it  will  Earn 543 

Domestic  Life,  Treatise  on 111-282 

Doily,  to  Hemstitch 197 

Doubtful  Welcome,  A 611 

Draft,  Form  of  After-date 387 


Draft,  Form  of  After-sight., 387 

Drainage,  Bad 288 

Drawn-work,  Elegant 197 

Dresses,  Bathing 29 

Dress  Controlled  by  the  Weather 34 

Dress  for  Church 29 

Dress  for  Elderly  Ladies 27 

Dress  for  Evening 28 

Dress,  General  Observations  on 26 

Dressing-room 49 

Dress,  Morning 27 

Dresses,  Muslin,  to  Clean 260 

Dress,  Neatness  in 156 

Dress  for  the  Opera 20 

Dress,  Propriety  of 26 

Dress  for  Public  Occasions 28 

Dress,  Dr.  Johnson's  Remark  on  Lady's 28 

Dress.  Walking 27 

Drowning,  to  Restore  Persons 358 

Duck  Pie 237 

Ducks,  Stewed 237 

Dumb-Bells.    309-311 

Dutch  Concert.  Game  of 220 

Dwellings,  Healthy 283 

Dyspeptic,  a  Sour 133 

D 

Ear  Corn  Measure t 567 

Early  Autumn 624 

Early  Rising ~~  154 

Early  Spring 628 

Earth,  Air.  Fire  and  Water,  Game  of. 211 

Earth  Closets 289 

Earthquakes,  Great 550 

Ease,  Value  of 20 

Eau  de  Cologne,  to  Make 266 

Echo,  The,  Game  of 214 

Economy,  Domestic 166 

Ecuador,  Exports  of. 560 

Education  Carried  to  Excess 191 

Education,  Mistakes  of. 191 

Egg  Balls  for  Soup 230 

Eggs,  Food  in 564 

Eggs,  French  Method  of  Preserving 256 

Egg-Plant,  Stuffed 245 

Eggs,  Weight  of. 563 

Egypt,  Exports  of. 560 

Electric  Light,  Largest ~  544 

Electricity 55^ 

Elevated  Railroads  of  New  York 553 

Elopements 114 

Embroidery,  Materials  for 195 

Embroidery  Paper 254 

Embroidery,  White 206 

Emergencies,  How  to  Give  Aid  in 357-36A 


710 


INDEX. 


Emerson,  Remarks  of,  on  Manners 32 

Emetics  for  Poisons 363 

Encyclopedia  of  Valuable  Information 542 

Engine,  Largest  Stationary 545 

English  Blackbird 531 

English  Language,  The 486 

-English  Language,  Synonyms  of. 574 

English  Sovereigns,  List  of 560 

English  Thrush 531 

Entries  in  Mercantile  Books 379~38o 

Entry,  Original 377 

Entry,  Subsequent 377 

Epidemic  in  Brooklyn 284 

Epithets  used  in  Conversation 25 

Erl-King,  The 624 

Errors  in  Writing  and  Speaking 487 

Etiquette,  Necessity  of  Observing 20 

European  Starling,  The 531 

Exclamation  Marks , .  473 

Execution,  Issuing 437 

Execution,  Mode  of,  in  every  Country 562 

Exercise  and  Female  Health 157 

Exercise,  Evils  of  Overdoing 297 

Exercise,  Importance  of. 291 

Exercise,  How  much 299 

Explorers,  Arctic 552 

Exports  of  Various  Countries 559 

Express  Co.,  Letters  from , 403 


Facts  about  the  Sun 558 

Facts  as  to  Sound 558 

Facts,  Philosophical 555 

Factor's  Accounts , 395 

Fairy  Story,  A , 606 

Fainting 357 

Faithless  Nellie  Gray , 647 

Falling,  to  Prevent,  in  Children 188 

Family  Jars '. 151 

Family  Letters 82 

Family,  Morals  of,  to  be  Guarded 38 

Family,  Ordained  of  God 121 

Fancies  and  Whims  of  Love 123 

Farm  Ballad 606 

Farmer's  House,  The 618 

Farmer,  Story  of. 162 

Fashions,  Extravagant,  to  be  Censured 26 

Fashions  should  be  Observed 29 

Fashion,  The  Jackal's  New 33 

Fatigue  from  Over  Exertion 300 

jFault-finders,  Everlasting 158 

Favorites  of  the  World 22 

Fawcett,  Miss  Philippa 158 

Fear  the  Destruction  of  Love 22 

Feather  Screens... ,  210 


February,  Derivation  of. 55 

Feet,  how  to  Clothe  Children's „ 19 

Feet  in  Poetry 49 

Female  Simpletons 19 

Ferns,  Gathering 20, 

Field,  Kate,  Temperament  of 15 

Fifer,  Joseph  W , 13! 

Filter,  Natural 281 

Fire  in  Clothing 36 

Fires,  Great 550-55 

First  Occurrences 55, 

Fish,  to  Cook 232-231 

Fish  Fritters 23, 

Fish,  to  Fry , „  23: 

Fish  Pan  23 

Fish  Soup , 23 

Fish,  Steamed  , 23; 

>:  Flag  the  Train  " 621 

Flattery.  Offensive  , 7< 

FlieS;  to  Destroy 25' 

Flies,  how  to  Drive  from  Stables 56^ 

Flies,  to  Keep  from  Horses.  ...  56; 

Flirtation    2< 

Flora  s  Bouquet,  Game  of a? 

Florence  Nightingale  s,  The .". 2j 

Flowers  for  Brides 6t 

Flowers,  Care  and  Culture  of,... SH 

Flowers  in  the  Sick  Room.. «... jsc 

Flowers,  Language  and  Sentiment  of soc 

Folly,  Criminal ig< 

Food   Best  for  Children 19-: 

Food  for  Fishes 54c 

Food  for  Stock ...  56; 

Food  in  an  Egg 56^ 

Food,  Nutrition  of  Various  Kinds  of. 56; 

Foot-Ball... 332-33( 

Foot-Ball,  Diagram  of  Grounds 331 

Foot-Ball,  Rules  of 332 

Forgotten 622 

Forms,  Business 36; 

Forms  for  Business  Letters 401 

Form*,  Social 3^ 

Forms  for  Social  Letters 8i-nc 

Force-Meat  Balls  for  Soup 230 

Foreign  Coins 572 

Foreign  Words  and  Phrases  in  Common  Use 594 

Fortunes,  Foundations  of. 542 

Forwardness  in  Manner 20 

Fossil  Raindrops 615 

Fowls,  Dressing  for 237 

Fowler,  Prof.  O.  S.,  Extracts  from  Writings  of.....  in 

Fountain,  The 630 

Foundations  of  Fortunes 543 

Fractures  of  Bones 361 

France,  Exports  of. S66 


INDEX. 


711 


Franklin,  Benjamin,  Letter  of. 87 

Freckles,  to  Remove 264 

Fremont  and  Jessie 114 

French  Revolution.  Cause  of 33 

French  Stew 240 

French  Terms  Used  in  Dancing S3 

French  Words  and  Phrases 597 

Fret-Sawing 209 

Friday,  Derivation  of 559 

Friendship,  Letters  of. 93~97 

Friendship,  Visits  of 43 

Fritters,  Golden-ball 252 

Fritters,  Pine-apple 252 

Frost-Bites,  how  to  Treat 360 

Fruits,  Yield  of  per  Acre 566 

Fuel,  Different  Wooc1.?  for 566 

Funerals,  Etiquette  of. 63 

Funerals,  What  to  do  at 67 

Furniture,  Stained,  to  Clean 0 264 

G 

Gallantry  and  Politeness 167 

Gallium,  Great  Value  of 543 

Game,  Served  at  Dinner 61 

Garfield,  President,  Letters  of 88 

Garters,  Not  to  be  Worn 193 

Gases,  Noxious 287 

Gases,  Persons  Overcome  by 358 

Gender 131 

Gentleman,  Deportment  of  a 20 

Gentlemen,  Rules  for 42 

Gentleman,  The  True 30 

Geographical  Play 218 

Geraniums 516 

Germany,  Exports  of 560 

Germs  of  Disease , 286 

Ghosts  and  Hobgoblins 182 

Gift,  The  Auctioneer's 619 

Gifts  for  Weddings 63 

Gifts,  Letters  Accompanying 100,  101 

Ginger  Drops,  to  Make 266 

Ginger  Wine 259 

Girls,  Industrious 154 

Girls,  how  to  Tell  Ages  of. 561 

Girls,  Gymnastics  for 311-316 

Girls,  "Jolly" 24 

Girls  of  Nineteen 125 

Girls,  Sports  for 296 

Gladiolus,  The 517 

Globes,  How  to  Measure 567 

Gloves,  Ill-fitting 28 

Gloves,  Wash-leather,  To  Clean 263 

Gloves,  When  to  be  Worn 50 

Glue  and  Cement,  To  Make 265 

Go  By 617 

Godfrey,  George,  Organism  of. 172 


Going  on  an  Errand  ..........................................  622 

Gold,  Discovery  of,  in  California  ..........  ,  .............  572 

Golden  Rule  in  Dress  .........................................     27 

Golden  Street,  The  ............................................  638 

Goldfinch,  The  American...  ................................  530 

Good,  The  ........................................................  618 

Good  Animals  ...................................................  292 

Good  Great  Man.  The  .......................................  623 

Good  Humor,  Always  be  in  .................................    21 

Good  Humor,  What  it  is  ....................................     21 

Good  Little  Idiots  .............................................  189 

Good  Manners,  Importance  of  .............................     17 

Good  Manners,  Fruits  of  a  Refined  Nature  ...........    30 

Good  Society,  Livery  of  .....................................    33 

Gooseberry  Jam  ................................................  253 

Gooseberry  Jelly  ...............................................  253 

Gooseberry  Wine  ..............................................  258 

Grady,  Henry  W  ...............................................  128 

Graham  Bread  ..................................................  248 

Graham  Gems  ..................................................  251 

Grain  Measure..  ...............................................  567 

Grain,  Shrinkage  of  ..........................................  566 

Grammar,  General  Principles  of  .........................  479 

Grape  Wine  ......................................................  258 

Gravel  for  Birds  ................................................  540 

Great  Britain,  Exports  of  ....................................  560 

Greatest  City  in  the  World  ...................................  546 

Greatest  on  Earth  .............................................  544 

Great  Wall  of  China  ..........................................  552 

Greely  Expedition  .............................................  552 

Green  Corn,  To  Cook  .........................................  246 

Green-eyed  Monster  ..........................................  176 

Greenland,  Exports  of  .........................................  560 

Green  Linnet,  The  ..............................................  532 

Green  Pea  Soup  ...............  ..  .................................  228 

Green  Peas,  Stewed  ............................................  247 

Greenwald,  Miss  Clara  .........................................  165 

Griddle  Cakes,  Corn-meal  .....................................  252 

Groomsmen  .......................................................    64 

Grouse,  Roast  ......................................................  238 

Grumble  Corner  and  Thanksgiving  Street  ............  620 

Guarantee  Account  .............................................  396 

Guests,  Announcing  the  ......................................    51 

Guests,  How  to  Entertain  ..................................    45 

Guests,  How  to  Seat  at  Dinner  ............................  459 

Guests,  Receiving  them  ......................................    59 

Gun,  Largest  ...................................................  ..  545 

Gymnastics,  Benefit  of.  .......................................  297 

Gymnastics  for  Girls  .....................................  311-316 

Gymnastics  with  Use  of  Chair  .............................  308 


Hair,  Every,  has  its  Shadow  ..............................     afe 

Halibut,  Boiled  .................................................  233 

Halls,  Largest  ......................  .  .........................  ...  548 


712 


INDEX. 


Hand-writing,  How  to  Acquire  Good 461 

Hand-writing,  Indies' 468 

Harland,  Marion 154 

Hash,  Beef 241 

Hash,  Vegetable . 247 

Haste  Not!  Rest  Not! 609 

Hay  Measure 566 

HeadCheese 243 

Heads  of  Governments,  Salaries  of 560 

"Header,"  The,  in  Swimming 350 

Health,  Plain  Rules  for 187 

Health,  Treatise  on 283-364 

Healthy  Dwellings 283 

Heart,  The  Organ  of  Blood  Circulation 303 

Helps  for  the  Household 227-268 

Hen-pecked  Husbands .... 170 

Hens,  How  to  Take  Care  of 574 

Hills  in  an  Acre  of  Ground 566 

Hindoostan,  Exports  of 560 

Holland,  Exports  of. 560 

Holmes,  Dr.,  Pithy  Saying  of 300 

Home  and  School,  Useful  Information  for 461 

Home  Decorations 205 

Home  Occupations ...195-210 

Home  Pastimes  and  Amusements 211-226 

Home,  Sunshine  in 158 

Horehound,  Candied 265 

Horse,  Bill  of  Sale  of. 416 

Horses,  How  to  Tell  Ages  of 565 

Horses,  Fastest 551 

Horse  Power  of  Locomotive 572 

Horses,  To  Keep  Flies  from 564 

Hot-Cross  Bunns 250 

House,  a.  Contract  for  Building 410 

House-Building 269-282 

House,  How  to  Ventilate 284 

Household  Pets,  Care  of. 526 

House,  Where  to  Locate. 290 

Housekeepers,  Hints  to 282 

Housekeeper,  The  Tidy 156 

Hovels  Turned  to  Palaces 172 

How  do  you  Like  it?    Game  of. 215 

How  Sleep  the  Brave ! 610 

How  Three  Were  Made  One 611 

Human  Life,  Eight  Periods  of. 375 

Human  Life,  How  Spent 561 

Human  Procupines 171 

Human  Nature,  Knowledge  of. 19 

Huntsman,  Game  of  the 212 

Husband,  A  Brutal 176 

Husband,  Coarse 140 

Husbands,  Hen-pecked 170 

Husband  and  Wife  Comprise  One 173 

Husbands,  Old 126 

Husband,  The  Model 163-178 


Husband,  The  Stingy 134 

Husbands  who  are  Occasional  Callers 175 

Hyacinth,  The 518 

Hydrophobia,  How  to  Treat 363 


Idiot,  Aa 140 

Idiots,  Good  Little 189 

If  Our  Old  Clock  Could  Speak 612 

Ignoramus,  An 147 

"I  Live  for  Thee" ..  617 

Imperfection  of  Human  Sympathy 608 

Important  Trifles 118 

Indian  Clubs... 316 

Indigo  Bird,  The 531 

Industry  a  Commendable  Trait 153 

Information,  Encyclopedia  of. 542 

Ink,  Black,  To  Make 265 

Ink,  Red,  To  Make 265 

Ink.  Red,  Used  in  Book-keeping 398 

Ink-stains,  How  to  Remove 255-256 

Ink,  Violet,  To  Make 265 

Instincts  of  the  Sexes 125 

Interest,  How  to  Calculate 568 

Interest  Period  of  Heavy , 568 

Interest  Rules 568 

Interest  Rules,  Excellent 567 

Interest  Tables 568  565 

Interrogation  Marks 473 

Introductions 35 

Introductions  at  Ball 57 

Introductions,  Indiscriminate 36 

Introduction,  Letter  Requesting 402 

Introductions,  Responsibility  for 37 

Inventory  Account 392 

Invitation,  Letters  of. 91 

Invitation,  Notes  of 92 

Invitations,  Wedding,  Forms  for 107-109 

Invoice  Book,  The 378 

Ireland,  Exports  of. 560 

Iron,  Value  of. „ 544 

Italy,  Exports  of. 560 


"Jack  " 633 

Jackals,  Story  of „ 33 

Jail-Bird,  A 148 

January,  Derivation  of. 559 

Japan,  Exports  of. 560 

Japanese  Robin,  The 533 

Java  Sparrow,  The 532 

Jealousy  to  be  Avoided 74 

Jealousy,  Cure  for 177 

Jewelry,  what  to  Wear 27 

Johnnie  Cake 250 


INDEX. 


715 


Judgment,  To  Confess  .....  .  .................................  418 

July,  Derivation  of.  ......................................  *....  559 

June,  Derivation  of.  .......................  M  ..................  559 


Keeping  Books,  Methods  of.  ...................  ....  .........  376 

Kid  Boots,  Ladies',  to  Clean  ................  ..  .............  257 

Kid  Gloves,  French  Mode  of  Cleaning  ...............  ..  253 

Kindergarten,  The  ............................................  294 

Kindness,  a  Mark  of  High  Breeding..  ...  ...............     31 

Kindness  to  Children  .........................................  183 

Kissing  .............................................................     39 

Kitchen,  The  Queen  of.  .....................................  157 

Knitting  ..................................  ..  ...........  ..  ............  197 

Knives,  to  Clean  ..............................  ..  ................  257 


Lace 206 

Lace  Curtains,  To  Clean 261 

Ladies,  Attentions  to 52 

Lady's  Chance  of  Marrying .. 562 

Lady  Street-sweepers 41 

Lady,  the  Married 26 

Lady,  The  True 23 

Lake,  Deepest  in  the  World 549 

Lakes,  Size  of 550 

Lamb,  Charles,  Letter  of. 95 

Lamb  Stew 241 

Lame  Man  and  Blind  One,  The 635 

Land,  Conveying  by  Deed 421 

Landlord's  Certificate 431 

Landlord's  Notices 433 

Landlords,  Rights  and  Duties  of. 427 

Land  Measure.. 567 

Land  Taken  on  Shares 409 

Language  of  Flowers „...  500 

language,  Plain  English 71 

.datin  Words  and  Phrases , 594 

Lawn  Tennis 327 

Lawn  Tennis  Court 327 

Lawn  Tennis,  Odds 331 

Lawn  Tennis,  Rules  of. 327 

Lawn  Tennis,    Three-handed    and    Four-handed 

Games  of. 330 

Lawrence,  Amos,  Letters  of. 85 

Laws  Governing  Likes  and  Dislikes „  136 

Laws  of  Partnership 411 

Lawyer,  the,  Game  of. 225 

Lease,  Form  for 429 

Lease,  Form  of  Farm  and  Buildings 430 

Leases,  Written 427 

Leather,  how  to  Make  Waterproof. 255 

Leaves,  Phantom,  how  to  Make 205 

Ledger,  Closing,  the 398 

Ledger,  Double-entry 383 


Ledger,  The „...:....... 38* 

Legislators,  Instructions  to 455, 

Legs,  Crooked 187 

Legs,  How  to  Strengthen.. 306 

Lemon  Drops,  to  Make , «.  266 

Lemon  Short-cake «. 252 

Letter  Accepting  Goods 405 

Letter  Answering  Inquiries.... 405 

Letter  to  Country  Merchant , 40^ 

Letter  Demanding  Payment 406 

Letter  of  Inquiry 405 

Letter  of  Introduction ,  What  it  Should  Contain...    36 

Letter,  A  Lover's ...........  116 

Letter,  Merchant's,  to  Store-keeper 402- 

Letter  Requesting  Payment 406 

Letter,  Store-keeper's,  Declining  Goods 404 

Letters  Accompanying  Gifts 100-101 

Letters  to  Express  Co.... 403% 

Letters,  Forms  for Si 

Letters  of  Introduction 35 

Letters  of  Introduction,  How  to  Treat 36 

Letters  of  Love 102-107 

Letters,  Replying  to 77 

Letter-writing,  Faults  of. 73 

Levy  and  Property 437 

Lies  Told  to  Children 185 

Life ~  6iS 

Light  and  Sunshine 181 

Lightning  Conductors 558 

Lightning,  Persons  Struck  by 358 

Likes  and  Dislikes 132 

Lily,  The 510 

Lily,  Varieties  of  the 511 

Lines  to  an  Indian  Air.. 635 

Liniment  for  Bruises 266 

Linnet,  The 531 

Lion's  Ride,  The 630. 

Liquids,  Measures  of 57? 

Little  Dora's  Soliloquy ~ 637 

Little  Worries 62$ 

Little  Nell's  Funeral 645 

Lives,  Two  in  One 172 

Loaf  Cake,  Indian ,. ~.  249 

Lobster  3calloped.~ -.« 235 

Lobster  Soup »•.  231 

I^ockwood,  Lieut.  J.  B 177 

Locomotion  of  Animals 562 

Locomotive,  Fastest  Ever  Built 553 

Locomotive,  to  Find  Horse  Power  of 572 

London,  Size  of. ; 54^ 

Looking-Glasses,  to  Clean 26.] 

Loom  of  Life • ••••  623 

Loreys,  The > 534 

Loss  and  Gain  Account 393 

Losses  and  Gains,  Schedule  of. ., 393 


714 


INDEX. 


Love,  Excessive  Animal  ....................................  152 

Love  Feeds  Love  ...............................................  119 

Love-fever,  The  ................................................  126 

Love  Letters  ................................................  102-107 

Loveliness,  Female  ..........................................  159 

'Love  Laughs  at  Locksmiths  "  ........  ..................  114 

Love-making,  Art  of..  ...............  ,  .......................  112 

Love,  Power  of  ................................................  184 

Love  to  All  Men  Our  Duty  .  ................................     21 

Love,  Reciprocal  ...............................................  119 

Lave-spats  ...................  ..  ...........................  .  .......  169 

Love  Sweetens  Life  ........  ...............................  ...  166 

Lover,  Story  of.  .................  ,  ..............................  153 

Lovers,  Portuguese  .......  ,  .......  ...  .........................  156 

Lozenges,  Lemon  ...............................................  253 

Lungs  and  Skin  .....................  .  ..........................  289 

Lungs,  Bleeding  from  .......................................  361 

Lungs,  How  to  Strengthen  ...............................  307 

Lyceums,  Constitution  for  ......................  ,  ..........  445 


Macaroni  a  la  Crerne  ......................  ....  .....  ,  ..........  247 

Macaroni  Soup  ....................  ,  .........  ..  ................  229 

Macaws,  The  ........  .........................................  „.  534 

Mackerel,  Salt,  Boiled  .......................................  234 

Mad  Dogs  ........................................................  363 

Mdden  Missionary  ............................................  623 

Man  for  The  Hour,  The  ........................  .  ............  632 

Manner,  A  Winning  ..........................................     19 

Manners  and  Morals  Allied  ................................    31 

Planners,  Graceful  and  Easy  ..............................     19 

<l  Manners  Make  the  Man  "  ...............................     17 

Manners,  What  Emerson  Says  ...........................     31 

Mantles,  To  Clean  .......................  ...................  „  260 

Map  of  Center  of  Population  ..............................  510 

Marble,  To  Polish  ................  ,  ............................  265 

March,  Derivation  of  ........................................  559 

Marriage  .........................................................     63 

Marriage  Among  Relations  ................................  130 

Marriages  and  Divorces,  Game  of.  .....................  ..  219 

Marriage,  Spoiled  .............  .  ........  ,  ......................  115 

Marriage,  Treatise  on  ....................................  111-282 

Marriage  Vow.  ..................................................  116 

Marriage  Vow,  Sealed  .....  „  .................................  117 

Marrying,  Chances  of.  .......................................  562 

Marrying  in  Haste  ......................  „  .......  .  ...........  „  115 

Mating,  Nature's  Time  for  .................................  125 

Mating,  Best  Sizes  for  .......................................  141 

Matrimonial  Swindlers  ....................................  ..  164 

Maude  and  Madge  .............................................  639 

May,  Derivation  of.  ...........................................  559 

Meaning  of  Business  Terms..  ..............................  365 

Measures,  Box  ..................................................  564 

Measure,  Cubic  ....  .......................  .  ....................  572 

Circles  ............  «,         ............  .  ........  ~  567 


Measure,  Ear-Corn 567 

Measure,  Grain 567 

Measure,  Hay 566 

Measure,  Land 567 

Measure  of  Globes 567 

Measure,  Surface  or  Square 572 

Measure,  Solid 572 

Measure,  Wood 566 

Measurement  of  Cattle...  564 

Meat,  To  Keep  from  Flies 238 

Meats,  Roast 60 

Medicine,  Overdoses  of. 354 

Meetings,  Casual 39 

Melville,  Engineer 174 

Men  Born  of  Mature  Parents 124 

Men  of  the  Feminine  Gender 149 

Men  who  do  not  Lift 635 

Mental  Traits  that  Harmonize 148 

Merchandise  Account.... 384 

Merchandise  Company 395 

Merchandise,  Purchases  and  Sales  of. 384 

Merriment,  Good  Breeding  Does  not  Always  Re 
quire  22 

Metals,  Value  of 543 

Mexico,  Exports  of. 560 

Mignonette 515 

Milk,  To  Preserve 256 

Miller's  Daughter,  The 645 

Milton  Versus  his  Wife 137 

Mimicry  to  be  Avoided 72 

Mind,  Well-stored 18 

Mines,  Great 544 

Mining  in  the  United  States 544 

Mint,  Philadelphia 569 

Miser,  Mean  Old 134 

Mismated 141 

Miss  Edith  Helps  Things  Along 634 

Mocking  Bird,  The 528 

Mocking  Birds,  Food  for 529 

Mock  Turtle  Soup ., 231 

Modesty ~ 17 

Monday,  Derivation  of 559 

Money ., 542 

Money,  Marrying  for 164 

Money  at  Mint 569 

Monkeys 54^ 

Monterey 626 

Months,  Derivation  of  Names  of. 559 

Monuments,  Height  of *  548 

Morals  in  Married  Life 129 

Mormons  for  Mormons ~ 137 

Mortality,  Increase  of 288 

Mortality,  Tables  of. 5^1 

Mortgages. 423 

Mortgages,  Chattel 425 


INDEX. 


Mortgages,  Real  Estate 424 

Moss  Rose 525 

Motions,  How  to  Make 451 

Motions,  Undebatable '. 453 

Moths,  To  Keep  from  Woolens  and  Furs 263 

Mountains,  Highest 548 

Muffins;  Corn-meal 251 

Muffins,  Hominy 251 

Muffins,  Raised 251 

Mule-Bird. 528 

Multiplication  Table,  Instantaneous 570 

Muscle,  Feminine 163 

Muscles,  Contraction  of. 304 

Muscles,  the,  How  to  Strengthen.... 301 

Muscular  Movements  for  Neck  and  Chest 303 

Music  for  Parties 48 

Musician,  Fickle,  Game  of. 213 

Mushrooms,  Baked , 247 

Muslins,  White,  To  Clean 261 

Mutton,  Leg  of,  &  la  Venison „ 241 

Mutton  Pudding 241 

My  Love 613 

N 

Napoleon  and  Josephine 173 

Nares,  Sir  George 164 

Nature,  her  Work  done  Well 143 

Neat's  foot  Oil,  To  Purify 254 

Neckties,  Gentlemen's 50 

Nervousness,  a  Common  Ailment 162 

New  Granada,  Exports  of. 560 

Nicknames,  Should  be  Avoided 40 

Nightingale,  The „. 531 

Nile,  The..... „ 625 

Nonpariel,  The 531 

Noodles  for  Soup 229 

Nose  bleed,  How  to  Treat 361 

Note,  Days  of,  to  Run 569 

Note  payable  at  Bank,  Form  of. 400 

Note,  Promissory 386 

Notice  to  Tenant  to  Quit 428 

Notices,  Landlord's 433 

Norse  Sea-King 139 

Norway,  Exports  of 560 

November,  Derivation  of. 559 

Nuisance,  Remonstrance  Against 454 

Nursery,  The  All-Important 179-194 

Nursery,  Ventilation  of. 179 

Nurse,  The  Good 182 

Nurses  and  Old  Grannies 355 

Nursing  the  Sick 35 1-356 

Nutrition  of  Various  Kinds  of  Food _  563 

O 

Obstinacy 149 

Ocean,  Greatest  Depth  of. 549 

Oceans,  Size  of. 550 


October,  Derivation  of. J 559 

Oil  for  Delicate  Machinery 253 

Old  Barn,  The 614 

Old  Boys  and  Girls 123 

Old  Friends 621 

Old  Grimes 643 

Old  Hearthstone,  The 641 

Old  Husbands 126 

Old  Maid 135 

Old  World  and  the  New,  The . 614 

Onions  Baked 244 

Onions  Boiled 244 

Onions  Fried 244 

Onion  Soup 229 

Onions  Stewed 244 

On  Recrossing  the  Rocky  Mountains 641 

Opodeldoc 266 

Opposites,  Certain,  should  Combine 146 

Orange  Short-cake 252 

Orange  Wine 259 

Organs,  Respiratory 306 

Original  Entry,  Books  of. 377 

Origin  of  Vegetation 554 

Our  Baby 636 

Out  at  Sea 628 

Over  the  River 637 

Ox-tail  Soup 227 

Oxygen 306 

Oysters,  Fried 235 

Oysters  Fried  in  Butter 235 

Oyster  Fritters 236 

Oyster  Pies,  Small 236 

Oyster  Soup 231 

Oyster  Stew,  Dry ...  235 


Paints  for  Colors,  How  to  Mix 567 

Paint,  To  Clean 263 

Pall-bearers,  How  Chosen 68 

Pan-gymuastikon,  Description  of. 319 

Pan-gymnastikon,  German 317-326 

Pan-gymnastikon,  Uses  of. 320 

Pansies 513 

Paper  for  Embroidery  Patterns 254 

Paper-hangings,  Green 180 

Parakeet,  The  Shell 534 

Parallel  Bars,  How  to  Make 291 

Parenthesis,  Bracket,  Hyphen 475 

Parents  and  Children 124 

Parents,  What  Transmitted  by 144 

Park,  Largest  in  the  World 547 

Parson  Kelly 629 

Parliamentary  Rules 450 

Parrots 533 

Parrot,  The  Double  Yellow-Head.. 533 


71G 


INDEX. 


Parrot,  The  Gray 533 

Parties,  Evening 47 

Partners  Mutually  Liable 412 

Partner,  Silent 413 

Partnership  Agreements - 4J4>  4*5 

Partnership,  Dissolution  of 4J3 

Partnership,  Laws  of 412 

Partnerships,  Special 4*3 

Partridges,  Roast 238 

Paste  for  Moulding 265 

Pastimes  for  the  Home 211 

Patch-work 197 

Patience  Taught  by  Nature 625 

Patterns  for  Embroidery 196-203 

Pauses 49^ 

Pavement,  Cost  of  Vanderbilt's 544 

Peas,  Green,  To  Cook 247 

Pea  Soup 229 

Pedant,  The 25 

Pen  Flourishing 466,  470,  476 

Pen,  How  to  Hold  the 465 

Penmanship 462 

Penny  Saved,  Penny  Earned 155 

Peppermint  Drops,  To  Make 265 

Perch  for  Birds 539 

Perfumes,  Moderation  in  Use  of. 28 

Periods  of  Digestion 563 

Periods,  Use  of 473 

Perseverance 178 

Versia,  Exports  of. 560 

Personal  Accounts 385 

Personal  Expense  Account 392 

Persons  Polite  and  Impolite,  Difference  between ..     20 

Persons  to  be  Avoided 134 

Peru,  Exports  of 560 

Petitions,  Forms  for 456 

Pets,  Care  and  Management  of. 526 

Petulance  Never  Justifiable 21 

Petunias 512 

Pheasants,  Roast 238 

Philadelphia  Mint 569 

Philadelphia  Pepper  Pot 229 

Philosophical  Facts 555 

Phonograph,  The 556 

Photography 208 

Physical  Training 295 

Pickerel,  Baked 232 

Pigeon  Flies,  The,  Game  of 226 

Pig,  Roast 242 

Pigeons 535 

Play,  Advantages  of. 295 

Play-grounds,  Public 180 

Plants,  Care  and  Culture  of. 510 

Pleasing  Others,  Rules  for 20 

Pleasure,  Duty  of  Bestowing < 17 


PAG5 

Pluck  and  Prayer 633 

Plunge,  the,  in  Swimming 349 

Plymouth  Rock,  History  of. 552 

Poetry,  Art  of  Writing 49^ 

Poetry,  Choice  Selections  of. 606-656 

Poisons,  Antidotes  for 562 

Poisoned,  the,  How  to  Treat 363 

Poison,  Snake 364 

Polish  for  Furniture 2b6 

Politeness,  Effect  of  Genuine 21 

Politeness,  French  Rule  of 2o 

Pomade,  To  Make 257 

Pop-overs 252 

Pork  and  Beans,  Boston.  ,  242 

Pork  Pot-pie 242 

Portugal,  Exports  of. ..    560 

Postscripts 79. 

Potatoes  a  la  Delmonico 243 

Potato  Croquettes 243 

Potatoes,  Fried  with  Eggs 243 

Power  of  Attorney,  Form  of. 434. 

Poultry,  Management  of. 564 

Practical  Knowledge,  Value  of. iS 

Praise,  Value  of. 169 

Present,  The 611 

Presents  for  Weddings 63 

Present,  Letter  Acknowledging 90 

Printing,  Abbreviations  Used  in.. 599 

Printing,  Amateur 209 

Promissory  Note 386 

Promissory  Note,  Assignment  of. 419 

Property,  Personal,  Sale  of. 411 

Proposal,  Marriage 116 

Protest 399 

Proxy,  or  Power  to  Vote 435 

Prude,  The 25 

Pulse,  Natural  Rate  of. 563 

Punctuation,  Correct 77  471 

Punctuation,  Droll  Mistakes  of. 78.    79 

Punctuation  not  Regarded  in  Contracts 408 

Punctuation,  Rules  of. 471 

Push  and  Perseverance 178- 


Quail,  Roast 238 

Question,  Division  of. 452 

Questions,  Equivalent 45* 

Question,  how  to  Put 451 

Questions  of  Order 452 

Question,  Previous 4S2" 

Questions,  Privileged 45^ 

Quiet  Work 625 

Quorum,  what  Constitutes •  45° 


INDEX. 


717 


Rabbits 540 

Raillery 70 

Railroad  Facts 553 

Rainfall  in  the  United  States 559 

Randolph,  James 144 

Raspberry  Wine 259 

Kates  per  cent.,  Divisors  for 568 

Raw  Material,  Purchases  of. 390 

Receipt,  Form  of. 4:0 

Recognition  on  Street 40 

Recommendation,  letters  of. 75 

Red  Bird,  The „  529 

Reed  Birds,  to  Cook 238 

Refreshments  for  Parties 48 

Registry  of  Deeds 421 

Regulations  for  Courtship iiS 

Relations,  Marrying 130 

Religion  Governs  Selection 148 

Remembered  by  what  I  have  Done 625 

Remonstrance,  Form  for 454 

Repairs  on  Property 428 

Replies  to  Letters 77 

Republic,  Smallest  in  Europe 560 

Reserve,  a  Prudent 72 

Resolution,  Lack  of. 150 

Resolutions  of  Thanks 455 

Resolutions,  Forms  for 454 

Resolutions  for  Departing  Clergyman 455 

Resolutions  of  Codolence 454 

Respect,  Tokens  of. 44 

Respiration,  Artificial 360 

River  Path,  The 638 

Robin,  The 530 

Rose,  The 525 

Rules,  Business 365 

Rules,  Parliamentary 450 

Ruskin,  Remark  of. 30 

Rusks 251 

Russia,  Exports  of. 560 

Rhubarb  Wine 259 

Riding,  Horseback 299 

Ring,  The  Wedding 64 

Rivers,  Longest  in  the  World 549 

Rolls,  Parker  House 250 

Rose- Water .... 267 

Rowing,  Value  of. 298 

Royalty,  Cost  of,  to  England 560 

Ruth...  ..  612 


Salaries  Paid  to  Heads  of  Governments 560 

Sales  Accounts 395 

Sales  Book , 278 

Sally  Lunn 250 


243 


Salmon,  Boiled  ................................................  332 

Salmon,  Broiled  ............................................  2,, 

Salutations  ...................................................         j- 

Saratoga  Chips 

Saturday,  Derivation  of.  .......  , 

Saving  Small  Sums  ...........................................  543 

School  Episode,  A  .............................................  627 

Scotch  Sconei  ..................................................  251 

Soott,  Sir  Walter,  Saying  of.  ...............................  185; 

Scraping  the  Pan  ..............................................  609 

Screens,  Feather  ...............................................  2io 

Seals,  State  ......................................................  420 

Seas,  Size  of.  ....................................................  $$Q 

Secrets,  Domestic  ..............................................  175 

Sections  and  paragraphs  .....................................  477 

Seeds  Required  per  Acre  ....................................  565 

Seeds,  Vitality  of.  ...................  ..  ..........................  565 

Self  to  be  kept  in  the  Background  ..................  ......     21 

Selfishness.  All  Vulgar  ........................................    31 

Semicolons,  Use  of.  ...........................................  473 

Sentences,  Construction  of.  ................................  481 

Sentiment  of  Flowers  ........................................  500 

September,  Derivation  of.  ...................  ..............  559 

Seventeen  and  Forty-two  ...................................  127 

Seven  Wonders  of  the  World  ...............................  553 

Sexuality  ...............................................  .......  .   122 

Sexual  Depravity  .............................................  112 

Shad,  Baked  ..............  .  .......................................  333 

Shad,  Baked,  Dressing  for  ..................................  233 

Shad  Roe,  To  Cook  ..........................................  233 

Shawls,  To  Clean  ..............................................  26o 

Shad,  To  Broil  ..................................................  233 

Shipment  Accounts  ..........................................  393 

Shipments  in  Company  ......................................  394 

Ships  at  Sea  ......................................................  639 

Shoes  for  Children  ............................................   193 

Shoes  for  Public  Occasions  .................................    50 

Shrinkage  of  Grain  ...........................................  566 

Sick  Room  Made  Pleasant  ..................................  356 

Sickness,  Prevention  of.  .....................................  287 

Sick  Persons,  Rest  for  .......................................  354 

Sick,  the,  How  to  Nurse  ..................  .  ............  35'-356 

Signs  Used  in  Business  ......................................  373 

Sight  Draft,  Form  of.  .........................................  400 

Silent  Partner  ..................................................  413 

Silk,  To  Wash  ....................................................  259 

Silver-Ware,  To  Renew  ......................................  264 

Silver  Wedding,  Form  for  Invitation  to  ..............  no 

Similarity,  The  Cardinal  Requisite  .....................  135 

Simplicity,  Attractive  .......................................     34 

Sincerity  of  Heart  ............................................     17 

Siskin,  The  .......................................................  531 

Skin,  To  Beautify  .......................  .  .....................  267 

Skylark,  The  ...................................................  532 

Sleep,  Importance  of.  .......................  ............  192,  353 


718 


INDEX. 


Sleeping  Sentinel,  The 642 

Sloe  Wine 259 

Small  Inventions 543 

Smoking 40 

Snake  Poison ...  364 

Snow-Drop.  The 517 

Soap  and  Water 352 

Soap,  Substitute  for 257 

Soul  and  Body 626 

Sound,  Facts  as  to 558 

Soups 227-232 

Sorcerer  behind  the  Screen,  Game  of. 226 

Sour  Crout 245 

Southey,  Letter  to,  by  Charles  Lamb 95 

Sovereigns  of  England,  List  of 560 

Spain,  Exports  of 560 

Spanish  Proverb 26 

Spelling,  Rules  for 467 

Split  Pea  Soup 228 

Sports,  Athletic 327-350 

Sports  for  Girls 298 

Sports,  Manly 296 

Springfield  Arsenal 610 

Spring  Vegetable  Soup 230 

Squash,  Winter,  Baked 247 

Squash,  Winter,  Boiled 247 

Stables,  to  Keep  Flies  from 564 

Stammering,  How  to  Cure 186 

Staring,  Odious 23 

Statements  of  Accounts 385 

Statue,  Bartholdi's 552 

Steam  Hammer,  Largest 545 

Stingy  Husbands... 134 

Stitches  in  Needle  Work 196 

Stone  Steps,  to  Clean 264 

Stones,  Precious 27 

Store  Fixtures  Account 388 

Store-keeper's  Letter  to  Merchant 403 

Stock,  Food  of 565 

Story,  A  Sad 119 

Strife,  Cause  of. 138 

St.  Paul,  Saying  of , 136 

Strawberry,  Short-cake 252 

Strawberry  Wine 259 

Strength  should  Marry  Weakness 143 

String  Beans,  To  Cook 245 

Style  in  Correspondence 74 

Style,  The  Best 4^3 

Subjects  for  Discussion 447 

Sub-letting  Property 427 

Substitution,  Power  of. 435 

Succotash 246 

Sumner  Charles,  Letters  of. 87,  95 

Summons,  To  Obtain 436 

Sunbeam's  Mission 615 


Sunday,  Derivation  of. 

Sun's  Dimensions,  The  ..........................  .. 

Sun,  Facts  about  the  ...................  ,  .................... 

Sun's  Heat,  The  ............................................... 

Sunshine,  Value  of  .................................... 

Sunstroke,  How  to  Treat  ................................... 

Supper  at  Receptions  ......................................... 

Surface  Measure  ........................................... 

Sweden,  Exports  of  .......................................... 

Sweet  Pea  ........................................................ 

Sweet  Potatoes,  Baked  ....................................... 

Swift,  Saying  of.  ............................................... 

Swimming  ....................................................... 

Swimming  on  the  Back  ..................................... 

Swimming,  Great  Feats  of.  ................................ 

Swimming,  How  Learned  ................................. 

Swing  and  Stirrups  ........................................... 

Switzerland,  Exports  of.  .................................... 

Sympathy,  Letters  of  ....................................  97 

Synonyms  of  the  English  Language  .................... 


,,-., 

359 

r2 

cj2 
560 
t^e 

243 
™ 
346 
349 
347 
348 
317 
560 
100 
574 


Table,  Furnishings  for  57 

Table   Multiplication,  Instantaneous 570 

Table,  Scratched  or  Defaced 257 

Table  Ware,  Placing 58 

Talkers,  Loud,  Disagreeable 23 

Tastes,  Diversity  of. 132 

Taste,  Good 27 

Tea  and  Coffee  at  Dinners 61 

Telephone,  The 556 

Temper,  A  Pleasant 74 

Temperaments,  Forms,  Noses,  etc 1^5 

Temperament,  Strong  Masculine 139 

Temperance  Resolutions 455 

Temperature,  Average  Annual 559 

Tenant's  Certificate 431,  439 

Tenants,  Rights  and  Duties  of. 427 

Tenderness,  Offices  of. 21 

Terms  Used  in  Business 365 

Third  Person,  Use  of  in  Writing 76 

Thomas,  Theodore 137 

Three  Kingdoms,  Game  of. ; 216 

Throat,  Foreign  Bodies  in 360 

Thursday,    Derivation  of. 559 

Timber,  Seasoning  and  Preserving 567 

Time  and  Love 627 

Time  to  Choose  and  Wed 122 

Tissue  Paper 196 

Titles,  Professional 46 

Toasts,  Regular 459 

Toasts,  Volunteer 463 

To-day  and  To-morrow 616 

Toilette,  Ladies' 49 

-omaf-es,  Scalloped , ....  245 


INDEX. 


719 


PAGE 

Tomato  Soup,  i,^and3  ....................................  230 

Tombola,  Game  of.  ...........  .  ...............................  220 

Tom  Thumb  .....................................................  141 

Tongue,  a  Wife's  Long  ......................................  174 

Tour,  Wedding  ................................................     66 

Toys,  Dangerous.  ..............................................  181 

(Trades,  the,  Game  of.  ........................................  213 

Trance,  A  .....................................................  ....  357 

Travelers'  Tour,  Game  of.  ..................................  223 

Treasure  Diggers,  The  .......................................  637 

Treatment,  Cold  ...............................................  168 

Trees,  Largest  in  the  World  ...............................  547 

Trial  Balances  ..................................................  396 

Trial  Balance  of  Ledger  ......................................  397 

Trifles  for  Fancy  Work  ......................................  206 

Tripe,  Fricasseed  ..............................................  240 

Troopial.The  ...................................................  533 

Tuesday,  Derivation  of.  .....................  ,  ..............  559 

Tulips  ..............................................................  519 

Tunnels,  Longest  ..............................................  545 

Turf,  Most  Noted  Facts  of  the  ............................  551 

Turkey,  Exports  of.  ..........................................  560 

Turkey,  Roast  ....................................  .............  236 

Turkey  Soup  ...................................................  229 

Turn  of  Summer,  The  .......................................  615 

Turtle  Soup  from  Beans  ....................................  228 

Twenty  Questions,  Game  of.  ...............................  216 

Twirl  the  Trencher,  Game  of.  .............................  215 

Two  Glasses,  The  .............................................  636 

Type-writers  ....................................................  558 

\J 

Umpire.  Base-Ball  .............................................  346 

Underscoring  ...................................................  479 

Under-skirts,  to  Clean  .......................................  260 

Understanding,  An  Enlightened  ........................     18 

United  States,  Exports  of.  ..................................  560 

Untruthfulness  ................................................    30 

Unveiling  Burns'  Statue  ....................................  607 


Vagabonds,  The  .......................  .  ........................  644 

Value  of  Metals  ................................................  543 

Vanderbilts,  Wealth  of.  ......................................  543 

Vanity,  Many  Controlled  by  ..............................     22 

Veal  Cutlets.  Broiled  .........................................  240 

Veal  Soup  ........................................................  227 

Vegetables,  Yield  of  per  Acre  .....  .  .......................  566 

Vegetation,  Origin  of.  ........................................  554 

Velocities  of  Various  Bodies  ..............................  562 

Venezuela,  Exports  of  .....................................  560 

Venison  Steak,  Broiled  ......................................  238 

Verbenas  ..........................................................  512 

Vermicelli  Soup  ................................................  230 

Vermin  ou  Birds  .....  «  ........................................  539 


Ventilation,  Necessity  of. 284 

Verse,  Anapaestic 496 

Verse,  Dactylic 496 

Verse.  Different  Kinds  of 493 

Verse,  Iambic 495 

Verse,  Trochaic 495 

Views  of  Farmer  Brown 626 

Violets 513 

Virtues,  Substantial 25 

Visits,  Protracted 44 

Visitors,  Reception  of 43 

Visits 41 

Vitality  of  Seeds 565 

Vocabulary  of  Flower  Language 501 

Volcanoes,  Loftiest 549 

Volubility  to  be  Avoided 23 

Vulgarities  at  the  Table 55 

Vulgarity,  Marks  of 31 

382 

Waddingitam,  Land  Proprietor : 544 

Waffles,  Continental  Hotel 251 

Waffles,  Ge^  Jian  Rice 252 

Wages,  Table  of. 570 

Wall-paper,  Poisonous 180 

Wall-pockets 206 

Walpole,  Saying  of 33 

Walls,  Broken,  to  Repair „. 264 

Walls,  Damp,  to  Dry 263 

Wand,  the,  how  Girls  should  use..  311-316 

Warranty  Deed 421 

Washington  Monument ^47 

Watches,  Oil  for 253 

Water,  Deadly 286 

Wax  Flowers 203 

Wax  Plant,  The 515 

Wax  for  Flowers,"  How  to  Preserve 204 

Weakness  should  Marry  Strength.  143 

We  are  Growing  Old.. 609 

Webster,  Preference  of  for  Little  Women 146 

Wedding  Anniversaries 109 

Wedding  Cards,  Forms  for 107-109 

Weddings,  Etiquette  of. 63 

Weddings,  Time  for 63 

Wedding  Tour 66 

Wednesday,  Derivation  of. 559 

Week-Days,  Derivation  of. 559 

Weights  and  Measures 572 

Weight  of  a  Million  Dollars 54? 

Weight  of  Eggs 563 

Weight  of  Men  and  Animals 566 

Wells,  To  Find  Quantity  of  Water  in 567 

West  Indies,  Exports  of. 560 

Whisperin'  Bill 616  I 

White  Fish,  Baked 233  \ 


720 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

Wmte  Mice...... - 54° 

White  Rats 54O 

Who  are  Adapted  to  Each  Other 121 

Who  are  not  Adapted  to  Each  Other 121 

Wife,   an  Untidy 151 

Wife,  How  to  Spoil 166 

Wife,  The  Lazy 153 

Wife,  The  Model I53-162 

Wife,  Rights  of. 44° 

Wild  Beast  Show,  Game  of. 219 

Wills  and  Testaments 439 

Wills,  Executors  of. ° 44° 

Will,  General  Form  of. 44*~444 

Will,  Weakness  of. 15° 

Wills,  Witnesses  to 44° 

Wine,  Currant,  Grape,  Gooseberry 258 

Wine  Stains,  To  Remove 257 

Wine,  Strawberry,    Raspberry,    Damson  Cherry, 

Sloe,  Rhubarb,  Apple,  Ginger,  Orange 259 

Witticisms  at  the  Expense  of  Others 69 

Wives,  Healthy lfil 

Writing  and  Printing,  Abbreviations  Used  in 599 

Woman,  a  Well-dressed 27 

Woman,  the  Stylish I28 

,  the  World's  Prize "o 


Women,  Married  should  Discountenance  Coquetry    26 

Women  of  Wax  and  Wood 160 

Wonders  of  the  New  World 5^3 

Wonders  of  the  World 553 

Wood-Carving 209 

Wood  Measure 566 

Wood,  Value  of  for  Fuel 566 

Woolen  Dresses,  To  Remove  Stains  from 256 

Woolens,  To  Clean .' 262 

World's  Best  Authors,  Choice  Selections  from..6o6- 656 

Words,  Pleasant 185 

Worn  Wedding  Ring,  The 646 

Writer,  Correct  Position  of  the.... 463 

Writing,  Instructions  for 461 

Writing  Materials 462 


Yeast,  Unrivalled 248 

Yellowstone  Park 547 

Yellow,  the  most  Trying  Color 28 

Yield  of  Grains  per  Acre 566 

Yorkshire  Pudding 240 

Young  America,  Miss 163 

Young  Lady,  "Loud" 24 

Young,  Poet,  Quotation  from «    S3 


:MrS 


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